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diff --git a/16152-8.txt b/16152-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e10782 --- /dev/null +++ b/16152-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1954 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 158, +February 4, 1920, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 158, February 4, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 30, 2005 [EBook #16152] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Keith Edkins and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 158. + + + +February 4th, 1920. + + + + +CHARIVARIA. + +A rumour is going about that martial law may be declared in Ireland at any +moment. By which of the armies of occupation does not seem clear. + +* * * + +To make money, says a London magistrate, one must work hard. This is a +great improvement on the present method of entering a post-office and +helping yourself. + +* * * + +Cat skins are advertised for in Essex. A suburban resident writes to say he +has a few brace on his garden wall each night, if the advertiser is +prepared to entice the cats from inside them. + +* * * + +Much alarm has been caused in foreign countries by the report that British +scientists are experimenting with a machine that makes a noise like Lord +FISHER. + +* * * + +According to a witness at a police court in London nearly two hundred +people stood and watched a fight between dockers in City Road last week. +The way some people take advantage of Mr. COCHRAN'S absence in America +seems most unsportsmanlike. + +* * * + +Horse-radish from Germany is being sold in Manchester at six shillings a +bundle. Even during the War, thanks to the efforts of the local Press, the +Mancunian has never wanted for his little bit of German hot stuff. + +* * * + +Asked how old he was by the magistrate a railway-worker is said to have +replied, "Thirty-nine last strike." + +* * * + +The House of Representatives at Washington have offered one hundred +thousand pounds to fight the influenza germ. It is said that, if they will +make it two hundred thousand, DEMPSEY'S manager will consider it. + +* * * + +An American millionaire, says a gossip, has decided to stay at one London +hotel for three months. There was no need to tell us he was a millionaire. + +* * * + +A way is said to have been found for washing linen by electricity. In +future patrons will have to tear the button-holes themselves. + +* * * + +It is all very well asking Germany to hand over her war criminals, but the +trouble is to find enough innocent men to round them up. + +* * * + +The rumour current in France, to the effect that our PREMIER has been seen +in London, is believed by Parisians to have been spread by political +rivals. + +* * * + +The Bolshevists recently deported from America were welcomed on the Finnish +frontier by the Red Army and eleven brass bands playing "The +International." That ought to teach them to get deported again. + +* * * + +A Thames bargee has summoned a colleague for throwing a huge piece of coal +at him. Quite right too. The coal might have fallen into the river. + +* * * + +One Scottish M.P., says a weekly paper, has not made a speech in the House +of Commons for twenty years. This is probably due to the fact that a +Scotsman rarely butts in when a fellow-countryman is speaking. + +* * * + +The so-called "pneumonia" blouse is conducive to health, declares the +Medical Research Committee. On the other hand the sunstroke cravat +continues to prove fatal in a great number of cases. + +* * * + +A Swansea man who went to his allotment to dig up some parsnips and ended +by taking three cabbages from a neighbour's plot has been fined ten pounds. +We approve of the sentence. A man who deliberately associates with parsnips +should be shown no mercy. + +* * * + +A news message states that passports enabling Mr. RAMSAY MACDONALD to +proceed to Russia have been refused. As a result we understand that the +well-known Socialist has threatened to remain in this country. + +* * * + +Greenwich Council has refused a war trophy, consisting of a hundred +bayonets. It appears that in those parts they still adhere to the fantastic +theory that the chronometer won the War. + +* * * + +A novel idea is reported from a small town in Norfolk. It appears that at +the annual fancy-dress ball all the inhabitants clubbed together and went +as a Brontosaurus. + +* * * + +The Hotel Métropole has now been vacated by the Government, and it is +thought that, as soon as the extra sleeping accommodation has been cleared +away, it will be used as an hotel once again. + +* * * + +We understand there is no truth in the rumour that Mr. ALBERT DE COURVILLE +has offered the ex-Kaiser a leading part in his revue, _Come Over Here_. + +* * * + +A correspondent points out in _The Daily Express_ that there are five +Sundays in the present month. We understand however that Mr. WINSTON +CHURCHILL is not to blame this time. + + * * * * * + +OUR CYNICS. + + "It is stated that the management of the Isle of Man Steam Packet Co. + intend to change the name of the newly-acquired steamer Onward to + something more in keeping with the traditions of the Company."--_Ramsey + Courier_. + + * * * * * + + "Serious complaint is being made at another recurrence of the failure + of the electric light in ----. It is no light matter."--_Local Paper_. + +It wouldn't be. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Benevolent deck-hand_ (_to solitary small boy_). "'ULLO, +BEATTY! WHERE'S YER PA?" + +_Small boy_. "UP AT THE SHARP END, LEANING OVER THE PALINGS."] + + * * * * * + +OF CERTAIN BRUTUSES WHO MISSED THEIR MARK. + +["COALITION DOOMED."--_Poster of "Evening News."_ + +"COALITION DEATH SENTENCE."--_"Times'" Headline on Mr. ASQUITH at Paisley._ + +"BLOW TO THE COALITION."--_"Times'" Headline on Mr. BARNES'S resignation_.] + + Have you heard of the coming of Nemesis, + How she glides through the ambient gloom + That envelops the Downing-Street premises + Where GEORGE is awaiting his doom? + For the hour of his utter discredit + Has struck and the blighter must go + If the Carmelite organs have said it + It's bound to be so. + + The Cabinet's daily imbroglio + Amounts to a permanent brawl; + Mr. BARNES has resigned a portfolio + Which never existed at all; + It is true he was, anyhow, going, + Yet it serves (in _The Times_) for a sign + Of the symptoms, perceptibly growing, + Of GEORGE'S decline. + + Mr. ASQUITH (of Paisley) endorses + The sentence of violent death, + Though he leaves him alternative courses + For yielding his ultimate breath; + He allows him an optional charter-- + To swing by his neck from a tree, + Or to perish a piteous martyr + To _felo-de-se_. + + And what of poor Damocles under + This horror that hangs by a thread? + Does he wilt in a palsy and wonder + How soon it will sever his head? + Are his lips and his cheeks of a blank hue? + Does he toy with his victuals and drink? + Not at all; on the contrary, thankyou, + His health's in the pink. + + He'll be bashed to the semblance of suet, + So say the familiars of Fate; + But they don't tell us who is to do it + Or mention the actual date; + Though the lords of the Circus assure us + His voice will be presently mute, + Yet the victim, pronounced _moriturus_, + Declines to salute. + + All colours, from purple to yellow, + The oracles kill him in print, + But he turns not a hair, for the fellow + Is hopeless at taking a hint; + Apparently free from suspicion + And mindless of what it all means, + He careers on the road to perdition, + Ebullient with beans. + + O.S. + + * * * * * + +"OUR INVINCIBLE NAVY." + +In the article which appeared under the above title in the issue of _Punch_ +for January 14th, the setting of the nautical episode, in which the subject +of the story conducted himself with so much aplomb and resourcefulness, was +derived from a personal experience related to the author; but Mr. Punch has +his assurance that _Reginald McTaggart_ was not intended even remotely to +represent any actual individual. + + * * * * * + +HIS FUTURE. + +PART I.--THE PROPOSAL, 1920. + +"About this boy of ours, my dear," said Gerald. + +"Well, what about it?" said Margaret. "He weighed fourteen pounds and an +eighth this morning, and he's only four months and ten days old, you know." + +"Is he? I mean, does he? Splendid. But what I was going to say was this: in +view of the present social and economic disturbances and the price of coal +and butter--" + +"He doesn't need either of those yet, dear." + +"--and the price of coal and butter, it behoves us, don't you think, to +very seriously consider (yes, I meant to split it)--to very seriously +consider Nat's future?" + +"Oh, I've been doing that for ever so long, Gerald. Probably in a year or +two we shan't be able to get even a general or a char, so I'm going to +teach him all sorts of household jobs--as a great treat, of course. Washing +up the plates and dishes and laying fires--oh, and darning as well. He must +certainly mend his own socks, and yours too." + +"Well, perhaps, if he has time. But I have a much better proposal to make +than that. My idea is that we should bring him up to be a miner." + +"I thought children under twenty-one always were." + +"Not minor, silly--miner." + +"Well, what's the difference? Saying it twice doesn't help. And neither +does shouting," she added. + +Gerald wrote it down. + +"Oh, I _see_. But why?" + +"Because then he can earn enough money to keep us all comfortably--us in +idle dependence at Chelsea, him in idle independence at Merthyr-Tydfil or +wherever one mines." + +"He might send us diamonds now and then too. Or perhaps it isn't allowed." + +"No, no. He'll be a coal-miner, naturally." + +Margaret pondered this for some minutes. + +"No, I don't think much of your idea," she said finally. "Very likely coal +will have gone out of fashion by then and we shall all be warming ourselves +with Cape gooseberries or pine-kernels or something. I think he ought to be +taught _all_ kinds of mining--diamond-mining, salt-mining, gold-mining and +undermining at Lloyd's. Then be could take up whatever was most profitable +at the moment." + +"He has a busy youth ahead of him, I see. Have you thought of anything +else?" + +"Not at present. Don't you think, though, that this little talk of ours has +been rather instructive, Gerald? Shall we open a correspondence in _The +Literary Supplement_ on 'The Boy: What Will He Become'?" + +"Not quite the sort of thing for their readers, I should say." + +"But surely some of them must be quite human. It isn't as if I'd said +_Notes and Queries_. One can't imagine the readers of that ever--" + +"Listen!" said Gerald. "I think I hear--" + +But Margaret had vanished. Nat's already pessimistic views on his future +were being published for the benefit of the Man in the Street. + +PART II.--THE DISPOSAL, 1945. + +The President and Committee of the British Lepidopterists' Association +request the pleasure of your company on January the 15th, at 5 P.M., when +Mr. Nathaniel Prendergast will give an illustrated address on The Haunts +and Habits of the minor Copperwing, together with a few Notes on Gnats. + + * * * * * + + "Linen collars at 3s. 6d. each sounds incredible."--_Daily News._ + +A bit stiff, no doubt. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A DOWNING STREET MELODRAMA. + +THE PREMIER. "COME ON IN, BONAR; I LOVE THESE FANCY BLOOD-CURDLERS. BEST +TONIC IN THE WORLD."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Disgusted Parent._ "NAH THEN, 'ORACE, SET ABAHT 'IM! ANYONE +CAN SEE THE 'ORSE 'AS LOST ALL RESPECT FOR YER."] + + * * * * * + +SPORTING GOLF. + +(_With the British Army in France._) + +"I noticed the old sapper instinct asserting itself in Mac when he tried to +tunnel out of that bunker at the seventh," said Denny after tea in the golf +club-house. "He'd have found some opportunities on a really sporting course +like ours at Villers-Vereux. Remember Villers, Ponting?" + +"It wasn't a golf links as I remember it," said Ponting grimly. + +"Bless you, I'm not speaking of those far-away days. I'm talking of a month +or two back, when I was there with a Chinese Salvage Company trying to +clear up the mess you made. Beastly quiet it was, too. The only excitement +was a playful habit the Chink had contracted of picking up a rusty rifle +and a salvaged clip of cartridges, pointing the gun anywhere and pulling +the trigger to make it say _Bang!_ I often found myself doin' the old +B.E.F. tummy-wriggle when the _Chinois_ was really happy. + +"One Sunday--a non-working day--when all was drab and dreary and existence +seemed a double-blank, my orderly mentioned that he had discovered some old +'golfing bats' in one of the hutments. Evidently they were the remains of +the spoils of a lightning foray on the Base. A further search revealed a +couple of elliptical balls, quite good in places. So I tipped my cub, +Laxey, out of his bunk and we proceeded to resurrect our pre-war form. +By-and-by we got adventurous, and Laxey challenged me to play him a match +after lunch for ten francs a side. The details required some arranging, as +there were no greens or holes, but eventually we decided on a cross-country +stroke competition, starting from the hut-door and finishing at a crump +hole, map ref.: B 26c, 08,35. + +"We tossed for clubs, and as I won I picked a driver and a hockey stick, +leaving Laxey a brassie and a putter head tied to a whangee cane that gave +it plenty of whip. Laxey was spot, and broke with a ten-yard drive. Then I +teed up and drove with a good follow-through action that carried me round +several circles before I could stop. + +"I did better the next time, and made my ball rather sorry that it had been +making fun of me. Laxey had a bad lie and, though he lofted his ball with +the putter (as I said, the whangee _did_ give it 'whip'), he didn't clear +the hutments. After he had cannoned off the roof of a 'Nissen' into the +cook-house I took my turn, and to my disgust pulled into a trench that +formed part of our old support line. + +"'Our ways lie apart now, old melon,' I said, 'and I should advise you to +follow my example and get your batman to keep the count. Otherwise your +play will be affected by arithmetical troubles.' + +"Accompanied by my faithful Wilkins I found my ball and reviewed the +situation. The driver and hockey stick were hopeless for mashie shots, but +Wilkins reported a practicable C.T. a few yards to the right, leading to +the front line, and some gently sloping revetting from thence to the level. +Luckily the C.T. had plenty of length to each traverse, and when I emerged +in the open with my sixty-seventh Laxey was only just getting clear of the +huts, having been badly bunkered in the coal dump. He made good progress +from there, but I got into the rough--a regular Gruyère of shell-holes. +While I was attempting to hack my way through I heard a delighted gurgle of +laughter and turned round to see half-a-dozen of the Chinks sitting on +their hams and watching me with undisguised jubilation. + +"'Send them away, Wilkins,' I said irritably. 'Can't you see they're +putting me off my game?' + +"Wilkins shoved them off, and I took the old German line with a rush. While +I was so to speak consolidating, a runner arrived from Laxey asking for the +loan of a pair of wire-cutters. + +"''E's 'ung up on the wire, Sir,' said the runner, 'an' cursing the +artillery somethink awful from force of 'abit.' + +"I sent a pair of nail-scissors with my compliments, and would Mr. Laxey +kindly inform me what was his score to date? Laxey returned the scissors, +saying that he found he could manage better with a tie-clip, and his score +at 15.30 hours was 346, please. Cheered by the knowledge that I was a +matter of twenty to the good, I executed a brilliant dribble along a ditch, +neatly tricked a couple of saplings and finished with a long spinning-jenny +into a camouflaged strong point. By this time Wilkins was in such a maze of +mathematics that he hadn't time to scare off the coolies, who were tumbling +up in large numbers and giving a generous meed of applause. + +"Towards the 400 Laxey, who also had a good gallery of Chinks, was losing +touch, and I advised him by runner to change direction. He thanked me, but +said that, in view of the difficult nature of the terrain, he had decided +to work round from a flank. Feeling that I was nearing the objective I +organised a series of approach-shots with the driver, and sent to ask Laxey +if he would care to accept fifty start. However, having foozled into a +ruined pillbox, I reduced the offer by half, and later on, confident--not +to say insulting--reports from Laxey induced me to withdraw the concession +altogether. + +"At 16.30 hours precisely, amid intense excitement on the part of the +Celestial audience, we arrived at the deciding crump-hole simultaneously. +When I say we arrived, I mean that Laxey had an eight-yard putt from a good +lie--an easy proposition with the whangee putter--and I was ten yards away +in as wicked a little crevice as you could wish to find. + +"'If it doesn't shake your nerve, skipper,' said Laxey, 'I might mention +that my score is 543.' + +"'You'd better give me the game, then,' I answered. 'I'm but a modest 520.' + +"'Not jolly likely. You'll take at least twenty to get out of that burrow. +Besides, I know Wilkins is rotten at figures, and I claim a recount.' + +"An audit and scrutiny showed that we were both 537, and although Laxey +held a distinct advantage in position I decided on a strenuous effort to +halve the game. I took a firm stance and the hockey stick and let drive for +the hole with a tremendous pickaxe stroke. Instantly there was a blinding +flash and an explosion, and, when we had finished picking sand out of our +ears and eyes and allayed the excitement of the Chinks, we discovered my +ball comfortably nestling in the crump-hole. + +"'If assistance with derelict Mills bombs is allowed,' said Laxey, 'we've +halved.' + +"'On the contrary,' I replied, 'as your ball is apparently missing I've +won.' + +"And, if you believe me, we couldn't find Laxey's ball anywhere, though we +had seen it but a minute or two before. So I claimed the ten francs; but I +didn't mention to Laxey that the following morning I was passing a group of +the coolies and saw them with an object that looked suspiciously like +Laxey's ball, hammering it with a stick and trying to make it say _Bang_!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Constable_ (_to dreamy little foreigner_). "I DON'T KNOW +WHERE YOU WERE BORN, TICH, BUT I'LL GIVE ODDS YOU'LL DIE IN ENGLAND."] + + * * * * * + + "Wanted, Second Housemaid of three, Scotchwoman preferred; willing to + wait on table if required; comfortable situation."--_Daily Paper._ + +Possibly; but we always prefer our servants to do their waiting on the +floor. + + * * * * * + +HOME THOUGHTS FROM HIND. + +1920. + + Back in the years of youth, a thoughtless thruster, + I did adventure to the East and spurn + My native land, and foolishly entrust her + To other guardians pending my return; + And now time bears me to the second lustre, + And I am old and weary and I burn + To freshen memories waxing somewhat vague; + But men say, "Shun old England like the plague." + + Lord knoweth Hind is not a place of pleasure + Nor such a land as men forsake with tears; + Lord knoweth how we venerate and treasure + The English memory down the Indian years; + Yet now the mail pours forth in flowing measure + England's un-Englishness, and in our ears + Echo the words of men returned from leave, + Describing Englands one can scarce believe. + + Englands abandoned to the fleeting passions, + Feckless as Fez, hysterical as Gaul, + All nigger-music and fantastic fashions + (And not a house from Leith to London Wall); + Where food and coal are dealt you out in rations + And you can hardly raise a drink at all, + And tailors charge you twenty pounds a touch. + Is that a place for Nabobs? No, not much. + + Better were Hind where troubles more or less stick + To one set style and do not drive you mad + With changes; where a roof and a domestic, + Petrol and usquebagh can still be had; + And one can trust the Taj and the Majestic + (Bombay hotels be these and none too bad) + To stand for culture in the hour of need + And stop one running utterly to seed. + + Hind be it; as for Home--_festina lente_; + Hind be it and a station in the sun, + Wherein if peace abideth not nor plenty + At least you are not ruined and undone. + I am not coming home in 1920, + And maybe not in 1921; + If all the English England's dead and gone, + One can remember; one can carry on. + + H.B. + + * * * * * + +LITTLE TALES FOR YOUNG PLUMBERS. + +THE CONVERSION OF GEORGE. + +George was a plumber by trade and a striker by occupation. He did his +plumbing in his holidays, when he was not busy. He liked plumbing, as it +gave his throat a rest. He was really the Champion Long Distance Plumber of +the World and had gained the R.S.V.P.'s gold medal for doing the back-in-a- +minute-to-get-your-tools in more than two hours. And his heart was as +tender as his feet. If he heard a clock strike he longed to strike in +sympathy, so that hard-hearted employers who knew George's weakness always +kept their time-pieces muffled. + +The bursting of our water-pipe was the means of bringing me into touch with +George. He joined our bathing-party in the front hall, and said simply, "I +am the plumber." Just like that. He then said that he would swim home for +his tools, as he had forgotten the can-opener. When he got back Auntie was +drowned. + +He did not stay long, as he had to go on sympathetic strike with the +graziers. He was not really a grazier as well as a plumber, but his heart +was so tender that he couldn't keep on plumbing so as to give satisfaction, +he said, as long as the graziers were not grazing, so to speak. It didn't +really matter. Nothing matters nowadays. I just went out and sold the house +as it stood for an enormous sum and emigrated on the proceeds to Tooting +Bec. + +But this tract deals with George and his conversion, and has been written +specially to be put into the hands of young plumbers. Let us see then how +George gave up his sinful ways and how his heart was changed. + +It began with his tooth--an old, old tooth. It had done some work in its +time, but it decided to strike. And strike it did. George gave it +beer--Government beer--and it hit George back, good and hard. George then +began to talk to it. He asked if it knew what it was doing of. He +threatened it with more Government beer if it didn't get on with its work +more quiet-like. The tooth sat up then and bit George. + +"All right, young fellow my lad," said George; "you come out along o' me, +and come quiet. You're going to the dentist's, you are, and he'll +Bolshevise you proper, he will." + +The tooth stopped aching at once; it was a wisdom tooth. But George knew it +was only just lying low, to break out into sympathetic strike on Monday +morning. So out he rushed with it and took it to the dentist. I was the +dentist. + +I led George gently by the hand to my nice little chair and told him what +beautiful weather we were having for the time of the year. I said, "Open, +please," and George opened. I then took my nice little steel whangee, +beautifully polished, and tickled the delinquent. A gentle tickle and no +more. I didn't really go far--not farther than his back collar-stud--but +George said things as if I were a capitalist. + +I then said coldly, "It doesn't hurt!" I am what is known in the profession +as a painless dentist and rarely feel much pain. + +I capped his repartee by remarking, "Keep open, please." That always shuts +'em up. George kept open. I then spilt some cotton-wool in his tooth and +put up some scaffolding in the entrance of his mouth, and said nonchalantly +(I always charge extra for this), "I have forgotten my niblick; keep open. +I shall be back anon." I then went out and had lunch. + +When I came back George was still keeping open, but he looked at me very +wicked with his blue eyes and asked me from under the cotton-wool if I ever +intended to finish my ruddy little job. + +I said, "Dear brother and oppressed fellow-striker, I regret that I cannot. +I see by _The Dentists' Daily_ that our Union has declared a sympathetic +strike with the Amalgamated Excavators and Theological Students. You have +my sympathy. I can no more." + +George tried to persuade me as we went downstairs together, bumping our +heads on each step in turn, but it was of no avail. + +I do not however regret my pious invention, as I hear that George is a +changed man. Being intelligent, he thought things over for himself, instead +of letting a man in a red tie do it for him, and after six weeks came to +the conclusion that a strike is a game that more than one can play at. He +strikes now only in his holidays. He never now forgets his tools or leaves +taps running. He does a good day's plumb for a good day's pay. And he sings +while he works. Strange to say that little tooth of his has given up +striking too. + +But yet it is not strange, for, as I told you, it was a wisdom tooth. + + * * * * * + + "£3 10s. HUSBANDS. + + WIFE WHO HOUSEKEEPS FOR THREE ON £2 A WEEK."--_Daily Paper._ + +But isn't this rather trigamous? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MANNERS AND MODES. + +TYPICAL VOTARIES OF TERPSICHORE, MOST GRACEFUL OF THE MUSES.] + + * * * * * + +BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND. + +[Illustration: THE FILM ACTRESS HAS A LIFE OF CONSTANT CHANGE. AS SOON AS +SHE HAS FINISHED BEING "DARE-DEVIL DAISY"--] + +[Illustration: SHE IS EXHORTED TO PLAY THE NAME PART IN "VIOLET, THE MASCOT +OF BUTTERCUP FARM," FEATURING A PENSIVE SMILE.] + + * * * * * + +FIXES THE HARE. + +I found Andy Devenish, of Castle Devenish, Co. Cork, in Piccadilly. He was +wearing an old frieze overcoat, the bottom of which had suffered from a +puppy's teeth, and a bowler hat with a guard-ring dangling from its flat +brim. His freckled nose was squashed against Fore's window as he gazed +wistfully at the sporting prints within. I led him gently westwards, pushed +him into the club's best arm-chair, placed the wine of our mutual country +at his elbow and spoke to him severely. + +"Tell me," said I, "how is it I find you thus, got up in the height of +fashion, loitering with intent to lady-kill in this colossal rabbit-warren +which knows no hound but the sleuth, no horse but the towel? How is it, +man, when there's a Peace on and the month is February and there's no frost +south of the Liffey? Why aren't you dressed in a coat that is pink in spots +and a cap that is velvet in places, flipping over your stone-faced banks on +a rampageous four-year-old that you bought for ten pounds down, ten pounds +some time, a sack of seed oats and an old saddle, and will eventually palm +off on an Englishman at Ballsbridge for two hundred cash? What about the +hounds? The Ballinknock Versatiles? What are they doing without their +master? Going for improving country walks with Patsey Mike, two and two +like young ladies from a seminary, or sitting up on their benches, a tear +in every eye, wailing, 'Oh, where is our wandering boy tonight?' + +"And what about the Ballinknock foxes, eh? Aren't they entitled to some +consideration? Didn't they carry on patiently for four dull years while you +were in France, learning to walk in the cavalry, on the understanding that +you'd make up for it when you got back by hunting them every day of the +week? Have you no love or sympathy for dumb animals? Why are you here? What +are you flying from? Tell me your dread secret. Is it debt, arson, +murder--or is some woman threatening to marry you?" + +Andy growled into his whiskey-and-soda, then suddenly pointed out of the +window. "See the advertisement on that bus?" + +"'MIND THE WIDOW'," I read, "'shrieking comedy by Cosmo--'" + +"No, not that one," Andy grumbled; "t'other." + +It was a picture of a smiling gentleman with a head that gleamed like +patent leather. The gentleman attributed his happiness to the fact that he +mixed "Florazora" cream with his scalp. "Florazora Cream," I read, "fixes +the hair. Subtly perfumed with honey and flowers. Imparts a lustre and--" +The bus resumed its journey. + +I studied Andy's head. Normally it looks as though he had been mopping out +a rusty drain with it. It was quite normal, every hair on end and pointing +in a different direction. + +"Well, what of Florazora?" I asked. "It's evident she has never entered +into your life, at any rate." + +"That's all you know about it," said Andy. "They're sitting up for me with +blunderbusses and brickbats at home, and 'Florazora' is the cause." + +"But how?" I asked. + +"Ye'll discover if ye'll let me speak for a half a minute. I may admit to +you I was very sweet on a little girl that was staying with the MacManuses +a while back, so I bought a bottle of that stuff to keep my hair down while +I was pitching her the yarn. I cornered the lass alone in the MacManus' +drawing-room, went down on my knees and threw off a dandy proposal I had +learnt by heart out of a book. The girl curled about all over the sofa with +emotion, and for a bit I thought my eloquence was doing it. Then I +perceived she was near shaken to pieces with laughter. Couldn't think why +till I happened to catch sight of myself in a mirror and saw that my darned +old hair had come unstuck again and was bobbing up all over my head, not +singly as it is now, but a cockatoo tuft at a time, thanks to 'Florazora.' +I rose up off the MacManus carpet and ran all the way home." + +"Still I don't see--" I began. + +"Ye never will if ye don't give me a chance to tell ye," said Andy. + +"Do ye remember that greasy divil Peter Flynn that owns a draper's shop in +Ballinknock main street? A fat man he is with the flowing locks of a stump +orator, given to fancy waistcoats and a frock-coat--very dressy. Ye'd see +him standing at the shop-door on fair-days, bobbing to the women and +how-dy-doin' the country boys the way he'd tout a vote or two, he being the +leading Sinn Fein organiser down our way now. Anyhow he and his raparees +got after me and the hunt, on account of me evicting a tenant that hadn't +paid a penny of rent for seven years and didn't ever intend to. They hinted +to the decent poor farmers round about that there'd be ricks fired and cows +ripped if they allowed me to hunt their lands, so I got stopped everywhere. +I had land enough of my own to carry on with, so I hunted there till the +foxes and hares gave out, which they precious soon did, seeing that half +the neighbourhood was out shooting, trapping, poisoning and lurching them. + +"I bought a stag from a feller in Limerick and chased that for a bit; then +on a 'tween day, when I was away and the deer out grazing in the demesne, +somebody slipped a brace of Mauser bullets into it, and that form of +diversion was likewise at an end. As far as I could see an animal wouldn't +stand a ten minutes' chance in my country unless it were an armadillo. + +"I wrote to the War Office, asking them could they kindly oblige me with +the loan of a lively little tank for pursuing purposes, but got no answer. +I guess WINSTON had a liver on him that morning. So there was nothing for +it but to give up the hounds. I went and broke the sad news to Patsey Mike, +who was mixing stirabout at the time. 'Oh, God save us, don't be doing +that, Sor,' says he. 'Hoult hard a day or so and I'll be afther findin' +some little object to hunt, that them dirthy blagyards won't shoot at all.' + +"Two mornings later he turned up, dragging something in an oat-sack. + +"I have it here that'll course out before the houn's like a shootin'-star,' +says he. + +"'What is it?' says I. + +"The rogue put his hand in the sack and drew out a yellow mongrel dog. + +"'Where did ye get that?' says I. + +"'Shure didn't I borry it?' says he. + +"'And who did ye borrow it from?' says I. + +"'From Misther Flynn, no less,' says he. ''Tis his little foxey pet dog.' + +"'Does Mr. Flynn know you borrowed it from him?' says I. + +"'Begob that he does not,' says he. 'Mr. Flynn is beyond in Youghal and I +borryed it in the dark dead of night over the yard wall. Faith, he'll run +home like a flick of lightning, he's that scared, the same dog.' + +"'Ye did well,' said I; 'but will the hounds chase him?' + +"'That they will, Sor. What with foxes one day, stags the next and hares +the next, there's sorra a born thing they wouldn't hunt given there's smell +enough in it,' says the lad. 'Have ye the laste little trace of aniseed in +the house that you could drench the crature with the way the houn's would +folly him?' + +"Divil a drop of aniseed or anything else had I on the place, and I stood +there scratching my ear with my crop wondering what to do, when suddenly I +remembered that relic of my courting days, 'Florazora.' 'I have it,' I +said; 'I've got something that'll fix _that_ hare all right.' + +"I fetched the bottle and rubbed a handful or so of the stuff well into Mr. +Flynn's pet dog and let him go with a flip of my whip lash to help him on +his way. He lit out for home as though the devil had kicked him, yelling +blue murder and laying a trail of flowers and honey across the country so +thick you could pretty nigh eat it. I gave him a fair start, then laid the +hounds on and we had a five-mile point, going like a steeplechase all the +way. Flynn lives in a lonely house about half a mile out of Ballinknock, +and the 'bag-man' got home to it and through the wee dog-hole into the yard +with just six inches to spare. + +"Patsey went over the wall and borrowed the dog three times after that. It +was no trouble at all. Flynn was still away in Youghal, and his housekeeper +was that deaf Gabriel would have to announce the Crack of Doom to her on +his fingers. But it was too good to last. On the fourth day we were nearing +Flynn's house, the dog leading the pack by not fifty yards, when I saw him +cut across a field to the left, while the hounds tumbled into a little +boreen that runs up from the railway-station and went streaking down it +singing out as if they were on a breast-high scent and in view. + +"'Begob,' says I to Patsey, 'they've changed; they're running a hare, I +believe.' + +"'Tis a hare in a frock-coat then, Sor,' says he, pointing with his whip. + +"Sure enough it was a man they were after. I saw him then galloping down +the boreen for dear life, coat-tails flying, hair streaming, terror in his +big white face. Flynn! I did my damdest, but I had no hope of stopping +them, not in that little lane. When I came out on the high-road I found +what was left of the politician half-way up a telegraph post, like a treed +cat, screeching and scrambling and calling on the Saints, with old Actress +swinging by her teeth to the tails of his shirt, Cruiskeen ripping the +trousers off him a leg at a time, and the rest of the pack leaping under +him like the surf of the sea. + +"I nearly rolled off my mare with laughter, though well I knew the +screeching scarecrow up the pole would have me drawn and quartered for that +day's work. I whipped the hounds off in the end, took 'em by road to Fermoy +that same evening and boxed 'em to my brother-in-law in Carlow. 'Twas +fortunate I did, for my kennels were burnt to the ground that night." + +Andy sighed, drained his glass and gazed regretfully at the bottom. + +"H-m, ye-es, but there's still a point I would like cleared up," said I. +"What made the pack change and chase Flynn?" + +"Appears he was strongly addicted to 'Florazora' too," said Andy. + +PATLANDER. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Odd Job Man_ (_to Gardener, discussing dinner which has +been sent them from the house_). "NASTY BIT O' MUTTON THIS, AIN'T IT?" + +_Gardener._ "'TAIN'T MUTTON--IT'S PORK." + +_Odd Job Man._ "IS IT? I 'OPE IT IS. I'M VERY FOND OF A BIT O' PORK."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Rosamund_ (_who has had a restless night_). "NOW I THINK OF +IT, NURSE, IF YOU SHOULD FIND A FLEA IN MY BED I DON'T WANT IT KEPT."] + + * * * * * + +ANOTHER IMPENDING APOLOGY. + +From the account of a farewell meeting in honour of a retiring Minister:-- + + "It was altogether a notable gathering, and perhaps the congregational + repetition of the General Thanksgiving at the opening of the meeting + gave the keynote to the whole proceedings."--_Christian World._ + + * * * * * + + "An immediate advance of 10s. a week for adult workers and 5s. for + juniors is being made to employers by the National Transport Workers' + Federation."--_Evening Paper._ + +We have always contended that the motto "For others" is the guiding +principle of Labour. + + * * * * * + + "There are Germans still in the Baltic Provinces--which is full of + uuuuuuuuuuuuuu eaoi aoa."--_Daily Paper._ + +Very suspicious. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A WOMAN OF SOME IMPORTANCE + +(_Mr. ASQUITH and the Paisley Mill-hand_). + +"HOW ARE YOU VOTING, MY PRETTY MAID?" + +"WAIT AND YOU'LL SEE, KIND SIR," SHE SAID.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: SCENE.--_Local Hall._ DRAMA, "_The Alaskan Tiger Cat_." + +_Hero_ (_after unsuccessful proposal_). "THEN, MARGARET, AM I TO TAKE IT +THAT YOU REFUSE ME?"] + + * * * * * + +LABOUR AND ART; + +OR, THE CONVERSION OF BINKS. + + You have stood at some time, I suppose, with a sense of disaster + And gazed at a picture resembling an egg on a mat, + Or a sideslip of squares in the mode of a Pimlico master?-- + Well, Binks's "Rebellion" and "Afternoon Tea in my Flat" + Were extremely like that. + + He was nuts upon Beauty was Binks, and from boyhood acquainted + With Art, and so bound to her side with such delicate links + That I doubt if the soul of her, much as we've written and painted, + Had ever been fathomed (for is she not strange as the Sphinx?) + Till she got to know Binks. + + He had hundreds of phases, and all of them highly sensational, + A Cubist unbending, a Vorticist equally stout; + Scorned one thing, he said, and one only, the Representational, + Meaning, I take it, a school where there isn't much doubt + What the whole thing's about. + + And at times he would say, as I stared at his riotous scrimmages + And asked what on earth was the meaning, "You must have regard + To the mind of the artist, for Art is a matter of images," + And it seemed that he thought all these things when he gazed very hard + At a tub in a yard. + + But at times he would tell me that Art was a mere interweaving + Of hues and designs; he had done what he could to expel + All thoughts and all visual objects, for these were deceiving, + And I told him, so far as an ignorant layman could tell, + He had done that quite well. + + But I think that of all of his phases the last was most funny; + He was vestured in white when I met him by chance in the town; + He had shaved off his beard, his beard, like Apollo's, of honey; + His hair was quite short, he had lost his habitual frown, + He was looking quite brown. + + He told me he never exhibited now in a gallery; + Commissions were filling his time and engaging his heart; + What was more, he observed, he was making a regular salary, + So I asked him to tell me the worst and explain from the start + What had happened to Art. + + "I have banished Design," he informed me, "and thoughts are all duller + Than Beauty, and Beauty is Art; but no critic can grouse + At the notion of Absolute Pure Indivisible Colour + As calm as Eternity, smooth as omnipotent _nous_-- + I am painting a house." + + EVOE. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Visitor._ "YOUR FATHER SEEMS TO BE HAVING A STIFF TIME WITH +THE ROLLER?" + +_Daughter of the House._ "OH, MUMMY ONLY SETS HIM ON TO IT WHEN HE'S BEEN +NAUGHTY."] + + * * * * * + +THE BEST OF THINGS. + +"The New Poor?" said Holder, like myself, one of them. "Nonsense. There are +none. There are people who will not use their imaginations, of course. They +are poor, but not newly so. This so-called new poverty doesn't touch me. +True, the money I make will not go so far as it used to, but my imagination +goes very much farther. I have trained it, encouraged it, my wife's and +boy's too. We have cast off the absurd restraints imposed by the law of +probability. In the old days, when I used to think, say, of motors, I was +invariably badgered by the spectre of improbability. I used to think of a +four-hundred-pound car, or perhaps, in a daring moment, my thoughts would +creep timidly, like mice out into a still kitchen, on to the six-hundred- +pound plane, only to scurry back to the lower plane almost instantly. _Now_ +I've thrown all that overboard. Rubbish! When I think of motors I think in +terms of Rolls-Royces. Why think cheaply? It's a poor imagination that +won't run to a six-cylinder car at least. Strictly, I shall never own a +real motor scooter. What of it? In my mind I use Rolls-Royces. We've rather +worked the thing up at home. Come and dine with us and see for yourself." + +We had sausages and mashed potatoes, with water. And I may say that never +have I enjoyed a meal more. You see, Holder kept on telling us all the time +about the famous dinner which now, owing to the War, we should never really +eat, but which we were at perfect liberty to imagine we were eating. I am +sorry you were not there. The _hors d'oeuvres_! Holder describes _hors +d'oeuvres_ better than any man I know. Oh, masterly, the colour ... RUSKIN, +perhaps. Anyhow, he carried us quite away. + +His wife chose oysters. His description of oysters, instantly furnished, +was a little gem--a pearl, silver-grey, so much so that I too chose +oysters. His little boy, Dickie, chose caviare; but he really did not care +for it. He bit on a piece of button in his sausage, poor child. That was +why he did not appreciate the caviare. But Holder distracted his mind with +some very remarkable mushroom soup--_potage de champignons_--a brilliant +word-sketch. We all chose it. + +For fish there was saus--pardon me, sole. The little lad, Dickie, chose +salmon; but Holder reminded him that he had had salmon the previous +evening; it was out of season in any case, and he described how the sole +tasted that probably Dickie will never touch. The boy appeared to enjoy it +immensely. + +I think it was the game, simple roast partridges, exquisitely cooked, which +Mrs. Holder enjoyed most. Her eyes were frankly shining as she pensively +chewed the third quarter of her sausage, and she thrilled to the juices of +the partridge of the dinner she could no longer hope really to eat, but +which Holder, thank God, would often describe, at any rate until a tax is +put on conversation. Even then something might be done--deaf and dumb +language, possibly--an evasion, I admit, but even the New Poor must eat +occasionally. + +We all enjoyed the game course most, with the exception of Dickie. The lad +had finished his sausage, and mashed potato alone is not inspiring. But +that great man, Holder, noticed it in time, and he satisfied the child with +a word-painting of the brown crisp skin of cooked goose. Then we drank some +magnificent wine. Holder ransacked the English language for it. A vivifying +champagne. + +But enough of food, or you will think we were gourmands. None of us cared +for any sweets after such a meal. And that is what I like about the +Holders: with them enough is as good as the feast they will never have. + +After dinner we smoked a very fine cigar in the imaginary conservatory +which Holder has just run up, and I have rarely, if ever, heard a better +description of men smoking cigars in a conservatory. Next, Holder played me +a fast game of billiards. He allowed me to choose my own table, and I +picked the most expensive in the catalogue. Dickie marked for us. Then he +went to bed. I heard his father whisper a most convincing description of +eiderdowns and real wool blankets when he kissed him. He is only a very +little boy--big blue eyes, you know, like a girl's; they watered a little. +Excitement.... + +It was a clear moonlit night with a touch of frost in the air, so Mrs. +Holder rang for the visionary footman, a good-looking, most willing, +sensible man, according to Holder's quick portrait of him, who piled up +some great logs on a bank of coals of a positively fantastic size, and we +gathered round to enjoy a run in the brand-new, latest model Rolls-Royce +which is one of the special things which Holder will never possess in this +world. Ah, but she was a queen of cars, and the best of cars always +run better at night. I wonder why. So smoothly silky, so dreamily +sweet-running, a pouring of cream! I wish I could convey to you the satin +sound of her transmission, the low golden purr of her gears, the fanning +of her velvet wings--wheels, that is. I would sooner ride in that verbal +car of Holder's than walk round the real backyard that is my own, unless +I fall behind with the rent, as I begin to fear I shall.... + +Down the dreamy moon-drenched highways, across the magic silver-flecked +moors, we climbed on the wings of the peregrine to the keen, cold uplands, +soared awhile, then dropped to the warm and sheltered valley and so home +again. We felt the radiator, Holder and I, and it was quite cool. _She_ +will never boil on a stiff hill. Mrs. Holder was glowing from her ride; for +an instant she looked pink and pretty; she had lost that wistful pinched +look. + +I went inside for a phrase or so of Holder's admirable idea of what cherry +brandy should be. We chatted for a little about the estate that he will +never purchase, and then I left, having promised to go round there +to-morrow for a little shooting. It will be hot work among the pheasants if +Holder has not lost his voice. + +He and his wife came down the drive to the entrance-gates with me. + +"Good-night," they said; "we're glad you've enjoyed yourself." + +Holder was a little hoarse, for he is a generous host. I think too the +motor run had tired them both, for their faces were again a little haggard; +and the wind had brought tears to the eyes of Mrs. Holder. + +So I said good-bye to them--and to Jack, their elder boy, whom they will +never see again. He lies in France. But, you understand, it was as if he +had been with us all again for a little while that evening. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MORE ADVENTURES OF A POST-WAR SPORTSMAN. + +CHANCING, ON THE WAY HOME, TO COME UPON HOUNDS WHEN THEY HAVE JUST KILLED, +HE PROPOSES TO SECURE THE BRUSH FOR MRS. P.-W.S., BUT CONCLUDES THAT UPON +THE WHOLE IT WOULD BE BETTER TO BUY ONE IN TOWN.] + + * * * * * + +HOPE FOR POSTERITY. + + Full many a year has waxed and waned + And sunk into its shroud + Since that first day that I obtained + A diary and vowed + To keep (as I informed my wife) + "The Records of a Simple Life." + + Within it I resolved to state, + Like Mr. PEPYS of yore, + The things that I, for instance, ate + And she, my Mary, wore, + Facts that would have a curious worth + When I was famed and--under earth. + + And generations yet unborn + Would feel a thrill to note + How I upon an April morn + Left off my overcoat, + Or showed a pardonable spleen + At having missed the 9.16. + + Nine volumes I've commenced at least + To write with eager pen; + The first, I note, abruptly ceased + On January 10, + While yesteryear the break occurred, + I think, upon the 23rd. + + But this year, I am proud to see, + Stands not as others stood; + The prospects of posterity + Are really rather good, + Now that my zeal (not on the ebb) + Has borne me safely into Feb. + + * * * * * + +MUSICAL AMENITIES. + +The connection of occultism with music was recently discussed by Mr. CYRIL +SCOTT in his interesting volume on Modernism in Music. It is satisfactory +to know that the subject is not to be allowed to drop. Grave discontent is +rife in orchestral circles at the monopoly enjoyed at spiritualist +_séances_ by the tambourine, and it is reported that Mr. ERNEST NEWMAN, the +distinguished and outspoken musical critic, will shortly deliver a public +lecture on behalf of the admission of other instruments to these mysteries, +and in particular the tuba. The claim of the tuba, Mr. NEWMAN holds, is not +only based on the profundity of its tones, but upon long literary +tradition. Nothing could be more conclusive than the reference in the old +Latin hymn:-- + + "Tuba mirum spargens sonum + Per sepulcra regionum." + +It is anticipated that the discussion will be attended by Signor MARCONI, +Lord DUNSANY, Mr. YEATS and Lieutenant JONES, the author of _The Road to +En-Dor_. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile the conflicting current of musical materialism is running strong. +_The Daily Mail_, always in the van of artistic progress, has espoused the +cause of the insurgent Georgians with intrepid zeal. Mr. JULIUS HARRISON is +extolled in a leading article for finding a theme for an orchestral work, +not in any of the misty or metaphysical abstractions which appealed to the +effete Victorian composers, but in plums. And, mind you, not Carlsbad, but +honest Worcestershire plums, without any Teutonic taint. Mr. JULIUS +HARRISON'S patriotic example is not likely to be lost on his brother +composers. Indeed it is asserted on credible authority that Mr. GRANVILLE +BANTOCK, who has completely forsworn all Oriental and exotic subjects, is +engaged on a gigantic symphony, with choral interludes, entitled "Yorkshire +Pudding;" and that Mr. JOSEF HOLBROOKE is collaborating with Lord HOWARD DE +WALDEN in a romantic historical opera in fifteen Acts called "From Woad to +Broadcloth." + + * * * * * + +Mr. BERNARD SHAW, who, it may be necessary to remind youthful readers, was +a musical critic on _The Star_ and _The World_ before he achieved fame as a +dramatist, has been causing his friends and admirers serious misgivings by +his article on Sir EDWARD ELGAR in a new musical journal, _Music and +Letters_. Sir EDWARD ELGAR has a great following; he has written oratorios; +he is an O.M.; yet Mr. SHAW salutes him as the greatest English composer, +the true lineal descendant of BEETHOVEN, one of the Immortals and the only +candidate for Westminster Abbey! To find Mr. SHAW taking a majority view is +bad enough; it is a case of proving false to the tradition of a lifetime--a +moral suicide. But why drag in BEETHOVEN? So left-handed a compliment +prompts the suspicion that, after all, what appears to be eulogy is in +reality nothing more than an essay in adroitly dissembled obloquy. _Mutatis +mutandis_, Mr. SHAW would not thank Sir EDWARD ELGAR for calling him, for +example, the Voltaire _de nos jours_. What he does enjoy is the frank +disparagement of Mr. WILFRID BLUNT, who describes him in the second volume +of _My Diary_, just published, as "an ugly fellow, his face a pasty-white, +with a red nose and a rusty red beard, and little slaty-blue eyes." + + * * * * * + +An interesting but, we regret to say, decidedly hostile estimate of +Mr. LLOYD GEORGE as a musician appears in the columns of a leading +anti-Coalition daily. The critic discusses the PREMIER both as vocalist and +instrumentalist, and in both capacities finds him sadly wanting. The volume +of his voice is small, the timbre is unpleasant, the production faulty and +the intonation far from pure. Admitting that Mr. LLOYD GEORGE has a certain +flexibility and facility common to all Welsh singers, the critic condemns +his habit of resorting to an emotional tremolo which frequently degenerates +into a mere "wobble." The PREMIER, he continues, shows agility and spirit +in florid passages, but his declamation lacks dignity and his articulation +is often indistinct. As a pianist he is equally unsatisfactory; his +repertory is extremely limited and he is quite unable to interpret the +complex harmonies of the Russian School. + + * * * * * + +A painful example of Mr. LLOYD GEORGE'S ignorance is forthcoming in the +astounding fact that he is, or was, under the impression that Karsavina was +the name of a town, and that the only musician of the name of Corelli was +the author of _The Sorrows of Satan_. The critic concludes with a masterly +analysis of the results of these short-comings on the vitality of the +Coalition Cabinet, already weakened by the withdrawal of Mr. BALFOUR, a +very sound and accomplished musician of the old school. + + * * * * * + +THE EXILE. + + Now I return to my own land and people, + Old familiar things so to recover, + Hedgerows and little lanes and meadows, + The friendliness of my own land and people. + + I have seen a world-frieze of glowing orange, + Palms painted black on a satin horizon; + Palm-trees in the dusk and the silence standing + Straight and still against a background of orange; + + A gorgeous magical pomp of light and colour, + A dream-world, a sparkling gem in the sunlight, + The minarets and domes of an Eastern city; + And, in the midst of all the pomp of colour, + + My heart cried out for my own land and people, + My heart cried out for the lush meadows of England, + The hedgerows and the little lanes of England, + And for the faces of my own people. + + * * * * * + + "The Viceroy, fishing in the Kabini river yesterday, caught a mahseer + weighing 77 pounds. This is the best fish so far caught in one day."-- + _Weekly Rangoon Times._ + +We gather that the giant would not have allowed any less august angler to +land it except by instalments. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "RATTLING GOOD BOOK THIS, _COURTSHIP AND CRIME_." + +"YES, I'VE READ IT."] + +[Illustration: "SPLENDIDLY WRITTEN." + +"YES, I'VE READ IT."] + +[Illustration: "BY JOVE, IT'S EXCITING!" + +"I'VE READ IT."] + +[Illustration: "THERE'S ONE THRILLING BIT WHERE--" + +"YES, I'VE--"] + +[Illustration: "--THE HERO--" + +"--READ IT."] + +[Illustration: "--BUT I MUST READ IT TO YOU." + +"I'VE READ IT."] + +[Illustration: "I KNOW YOU'LL--" + +"I'VE READ IT."] + +[Illustration: "--ENJOY IT." + +"I'VE READ IT."] + + * * * * * + +GUINEA-PIGS. + +It was with ill-concealed trepidation that I approached the Pontifical +Personage who presides over Messrs. Barkrod and Tomridge's Zoological +Department. The recollection of my previous and only encounter with him +still burned in my memory. I had gone thither with a young nephew on whom +in a rash moment I had urged the satisfaction to be derived from the study +of natural history and he had countered with a birthday and a demand that I +should convert precept to practice by providing him with a pet. + +The P.P. greeted us with benignant expectancy. His white apron merely +accentuated the obvious fact that he had come in a limousine. I have since +decided that he mistook me for an eccentric peer. It seems that eccentric +peers and struggling journalists are apt to provide the same air of +sartorial abandon to the eye of the uninitiated. + +It was the young nephew, however, who made the running. The entire +menagerie whistled, barked, sat up on its hind legs, performed acrobatic +feats and said, "Scratch poor Polly," at his discriminating behest. Finally +he reached a point where he simply could not decide between a Goliath +cockatoo at £22 10_s_. and a white-faced Douroucouli at twenty-seven +guineas. + +At this juncture I insinuated myself into the discussion, and by the +exercise of subtle pressure got him to compromise on a pair of white rats +at half-a-crown. Never shall I forget the look of majestic contempt with +which the Personage withered me as he extracted two torpid rodents from a +congeries of their kith and, holding them by their pink tails, dropped them +into a paper bag with the air of a Marchese depositing alms in the palm of +a lazzarone. + +Not lightly indeed did I again enter into the Presence. But on this +occasion duty called. The troubadour with lady's glove in helm never showed +a bolder front than the journalist in search of copy. And boldness, it +seemed, was to be rewarded. As I approached the Pontifical Personage it +appeared certain that he did not remember me. And why, I asked myself, +should he? Had I been the Duke of BEDFORD or the President of the Ladies' +Kennel Club I might have expected a place in his august memory. But an +insignificant uncle buying white rats--it was absurd, of course, to fear +recognition. + +I plunged straightway _in medias res_. "I have here," I said, "a journal of +unimpeachable veracity which declares that the Pasteur Institute in Paris +is suffering from a guinea-pig shortage. Please oblige me with your expert +opinion on this momentous matter." + +The P.P. smiled slightly, cleared his throat and, waving me to the further +end of the menagerie, proceeded to answer my question. "The common or +Sicilian guinea-pig," he began, "the _Porculus Auriferus Excubitor_ of +BUFFON, is still fairly common, though I may say that it is many a day +since they could be purchased for a guinea. An allied species, the Chinese +or edible guinea-pig, the Sing Fat Soo of the Cantonese restaurateur, is +indeed quite plentiful, but for some reason or other has never found favour +with the leading English fanciers. The fact is that since the War our +customers have become more discerning, and the common guinea-pig, being no +longer called for, is not bred and has therefore ceased to be available for +scientific purposes. A few of the art shades, notably _tête-nègre_ and +_beige_ pigs, are still in request by the furriers; but the public demand +is for something more select. + +"Now here"--and reaching into an adjoining cage the Pontifical Personage +extracted between finger and thumb a pinch of twitching fluff--"is the most +highly-prized of the race, the blue Himalayan pig. Only five specimens have +so far reached this country. The first pair were presented to the Duchess +of Snoblands by the Maharajah of Khidmutgar about three years ago, but the +sow met with an unfortunate accident in her ladyship's absence, being +dipped into a box of face-powder by a thoughtless maidservant. The third +specimen, a fine boar, was brought from China as the mascot of H.M.S. +_Colossus_, but just after reaching harbour was accidentally devoured by +the ship's cat. The remaining two I have here. They are expensive, of +course, a hundred-and-five guineas the pair, but quite unique. + +"Of greater zoological interest perhaps is this little fellow, _Porculus +Auriferus Decaudatus_, an arboreal species from the Solomon Islands; or the +striated guinea-pig of Central Nicaragua, which I am happily able to show +you." + +He placed Nicaragua's most valuable product in my hand, and it promptly bit +me. That I did not drop it into a cageful of terrier-pups was wholly due to +the native vigour with which _Striatus_ hung on. + +"The price of that is forty-five guineas," continued the Pontifical Person +smoothly, as he restored it to its cage. I shivered. + +"Now here," he went on, "is a pig of real historic interest. I have a fair +number of them just in from my collectors in the Persian Gulf and can do +them at eighteen pounds the pair." He motioned me towards a larger cage +wherein a bevy of dun-coloured piglets were holding a soviet. "The Sumerian +or Desert Pig," he explained, "of the _Oxyrhynchus Papyri_, erroneously +identified by GRENFELL and HUNT with the Southern form of the Tree Hyrax." + +It was at this point that my intelligence forsook me. I had been getting on +too well. It was the old story of over-confidence. + +"Honestly now, old chap," I said, "and strictly between ourselves, do you +ever sell any of the little beasts?" + +His face lit up in a brilliant smile. "No, Sir," he replied, drawing +himself up majestically and looking me squarely in the eye, "we keep these +to show to inquisitive customers. _We only sell_ WHITE RATS!" + +I fled. As I crossed the interminable length of floor that separated me +from the door I could feel that contemptuous smile rowelling my shrinking +vertebræ. Halfway across, the Blue Himalyan guinea-pig could have given me +three drachms and whipped me by sheer brute strength. As I sped towards the +door an attendant opened it. It was unnecessary. I could easily have crept +underneath it. + +ALGOL. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Magistrate._ "DO YOU WANT A LAWYER TO DEFEND YOU?" + +_Prisoner._ "NOT PARTICULARLY, SIR." + +_Magistrate._ "WELL, WHAT DO YOU PROPOSE TO DO ABOUT THE CASE?" + +_Prisoner._ "OH, I'M QUITE WILLING TO DROP IT AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED."] + + * * * * * + + "VACUUM for Sale, good condition. After 6 o'clock."--_Provincial + Paper._ + +Our own is generally at its best about an hour and a-half later. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Mistress_ (_returned from shopping_). "HAS ANYONE CALLED, +LAURA, WHILE I'VE BEEN OUT?" + +_Laura_ (_newly from the country and eager to display her progress in urban +manners_). "NO, MA'AM, ONLY THE TELEPHONE RANG, MA'AM, AND I DID PUT ON MY +CLEAN CAP AND APRON TO ANSWER IT, MA'AM."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +"A tough hide and some facility of expression"--to quote the author's +modest estimate of his qualifications--have enabled Rear-Admiral Sir +DOUGLAS BROWNRIGG to make his _Indiscretions of the Naval Censor_ (CASSELL) +the liveliest book of the War that has come my way. Thanks to the first +element in his make-up he managed to retain his difficult and delicate post +throughout the War, and only once came into serious collision with any of +his official superiors. As these included First Lords of such diverse +temperament as Mr. CHURCHILL and Lord FISHER, and First Sea Lords with such +diametrically opposite views regarding publicity as Lord FISHER and Sir +HENRY JACKSON, this was no small achievement. Thanks to the second element +he has written a book which scarcely contains a dull page. Whether he is +giving us a pen-picture of Mr. CHURCHILL conducting Admiralty business from +a sick-bed, with his head swathed in flannel and an immense cigar +protruding from the bandage; or explaining how the legend of Lord +KITCHENER'S survival arose from a trivial error that caused the news of the +_Hampshire_ disaster to reach Berlin a few minutes before it was published +in London, he always writes with directness and _verve_. Admiral BROWNRIGG +tells a good deal about the censorship, and illustrates his theme with some +excellent reproductions of naval photographs before and after the Censor +had "re-touched" them. He tells us even more about his work in a less +familiar _rôle_, that of Publicity Agent to the Silent Service. It was he +who arranged visits to the Fleet by more or less distinguished personages-- +"BROWNRIGG'S circus parties," as they were dubbed in the gun-room--and who +engaged authors like Mr. KIPLING and artists like Sir JOHN LAVERY to +describe and portray the doings of the Fleet and its auxiliaries. It pains +me to learn, however, that "Passed by Censor" was only a guarantee for the +harmlessness and not for the veracity of the stories narrated; and in +particular that the famous "Q"-boat ruse of the demented female with the +explosive baby was a pure work of imagination. + + * * * * * + +Without any special heralding, Mr. ERIC LEADBITTER seems to have stepped +into the front rank, perhaps even to the leadership, of those active +novelists whose theme is English rural life. I emphasize the word "active," +with of course a thought for the master of them all, the wizard of +Dorchester, at whose feet it would probably be fair to suppose Mr. +LEADBITTER to have learnt some at least of his craft. His new story, +_Shepherd's Warning_ (ALLEN AND UNWIN), is a quiet tale of life in a not +specially attractive village--a tale that conquers by its direct humanity +and by an art so delicate and so deftly concealed that the book has a +deceptive appearance of having written itself without effort on the part of +its author. It concerns a group of peasants, agricultural labourers, +inhabitants of Fidding, a village gradually yielding to the encroachments +by tram and villa of the neighbouring town. The simple annals of these +folk, and especially of one family, old _Bob Garrett_ and his grandsons, +provide the matter of a tale gentle as the passage of time itself, never +dull, instinct with quality in every line of it. Mr. LEADBITTER has a +method of concentration so pronounced that, once let his characters, even +his heroine, step outside the beam that he has focussed upon Fidding, and +they vanish utterly, till the working (apparently) of fate brings them back +again. Even the murder in his early chapters is so lightly touched upon as +to produce hardly any effect of violence. His sympathy with the life of the +soil, and the human lives that are so near to it, is clearly absorbing; the +result is that, to all save the confirmed sensationalist (piqued possibly +by the waste of good homicide), _Shepherd's Warning_ will also, I think, +prove Reader's Delight. + + * * * * * + +Mr. H. COLLINSON OWEN, formerly Editor of the soldiers' paper, _The Balkan +News_, would just love to trap you into an argument on the value of our +Macedonian campaign as compared with certain other war efforts. His book, +_Salonika and After_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON), shows him thirsting to accept +battle for the cause he champions; and in the sub-title, _The Side-Show +that Ended the War_, he fairly throws down the gauntlet. But take my advice +and don't be drawn. He has a foreword from General MILNE to support him, +and an extract from LUDENDORFF'S _Memoirs_, and a quotation from _The +Times_. He has a very lively and convincing way of putting things too, and +once he gets his enthusiasm fairly in hand becomes an uncommonly powerful +advocate. Not that this volume is by any means just a piece of special +pleading; only the author is honourably concerned to show both the +importance and the severity of the war against the Bulgars, which he thinks +people at home were a little inclined to disparage. I certainly cannot +remember doing so, but, putting controversy aside, this book remains an +adequate first-hand account of an adventure so great as to demand an heroic +literature all its own, where it can be seen in true perspective. Mr. OWEN +deals delightfully with nights in Salonika clubland or the vagaries of King +"TINO", or with the more warlike matters culminating in the terrific +actions that held the enemy's left wing tight while our allies smashed his +centre. An excellent book, with illustrations above the average and a good +map handily placed. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. HENRY DUDENEY'S _Spade Work_ (HURST AND BLACKETT) is a queer story +queerly told. A musician and an art-and-crafty girl, both poor and both +dull, are engaged. The musician, visiting his _fiancée_, now well off and +installed in a comfortable village farm-house, lets the strong air of the +place get into his head and falls deep in love with a yeoman's daughter, +who in turn, stimulated by this experience, straightway succumbs (at her +first dance in real society, into which the great lady of the village, her +patron, has introduced her) to the suggestion that she shall spend an +unchaperoned night on a young blood's yacht, with results usual in +distressful fiction. However, after many tribulations she and her musician, +now duller than ever, are united, while the jilted craftswoman is left +"full of ideas, sumptious (_sic_), a little feverish" for village +industries which from my impression of her mentality I should judge would +be of a devastating order. Lovers of that charming little West-country +village in which the author sets her scene will not easily forgive her for +naming it and baldly cataloguing its houses and sundry points of its +environment, leaving out most that is the essential of its charm. It's +simply not done by authentic writers of fiction--barring house-agents. + + * * * * * + +Those who experienced the rapture of discovery in an exhibition last May of +caricatures by EDMUND X. KAPP may now rejoice (supposing them to command +the needful guinea) that they can recapture this pleasure through a volume +of twenty-four representative drawings collected under the apt title of +_Personalities_ (SECKER). Not for me to attempt detailed consideration, +even if it were not the duty of every amateur to fall a victim at first +hand to Mr. KAPP'S amazing art. But one can hardly pass without tribute +such things as the head of the Japanese poet on page 1 ("Seer of Visions"), +a really wonderful example of much meaning in few lines, or the WYNDHAM +LEWIS, the only drawing in the book in which a suggestion of cruelty tinges +the satire. Perhaps the most directly laughter-moving pages are those +devoted to the brilliant series of musical conductors; is this because we +have all stared our two hours into expert familiarity with these +variously-tailored backs? But indeed here is a volume of twenty-four +joys, or rather twenty-five, the last being anticipation of Mr. KAPP'S +further activities, which I for one shall await with very genuine +interest. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: SQUEEZED IN AND SQUEEZED OUT. + +REGRETTABLE RESULT OF OVER-PRESSURE ON THE UNDERGROUND.] + + * * * * * + + "Miss ----, the well-known lady golfer, was married yesterday. Several + well-known golfers formed a guard of honour, and made an arch of golf + clubs for the bridal couple to pass under. The bride and bridegroom + were pelted with wooden golf balls."--_Provincial Paper._ + +Rubber-cores might have been less painful, but were perhaps too expensive. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume +158, February 4, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON *** + +***** This file should be named 16152-8.txt or 16152-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/1/5/16152/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Keith Edkins and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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