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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:48:47 -0700 |
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diff --git a/16401-h/16401-h.htm b/16401-h/16401-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..16cd557 --- /dev/null +++ b/16401-h/16401-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2352 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + + <title>Punch, February 18th, 1920.</title> + + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + p.center {text-align: center;} + p.author {text-align: right; margin-top: -1em; margin-right: 5%;} + p.right {text-align: right; margin-right: 5%;} + .i16 {margin-left: 8em;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .note + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + .poem p.i12 {margin-left: 6em;} + .poem p.i16 {margin-left: 8em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figure p.in, .figcenter p.in, .figright p.in, .figleft p.in + {margin: 0; text-indent: 8em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + --> + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, +February 18th, 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, Vol. 158, February 18th, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: July 31, 2005 [EBook #16401] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Keith Edkins and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 158.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>February 18th, 1920.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page121" id="page121"></a>[pg 121]</span> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + + <p>Writing in the <i>Echo de Paris</i> "<font class="sc">Pertinax</font>" + asks Mr. <font class="sc">Lloyd George</font> to make some quite clear + statement regarding his advice to electors. There is more innocence in + Paris than you might suppose.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Professor <font class="sc">Waller</font> has demonstrated by + experiment that emotion can be measured. At the same time he discouraged + the man who asked for a couple of yards of Mr. <font + class="sc">Churchill's</font> feelings when reading <i>The Morning + Post</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Thomas Lipton's</font> challenge for the America + Cup has been accepted by the New York Yacht Club. It appears that neither + Mr. Secretary <font class="sc">Daniels</font> nor "President" <font + class="sc">de Valera</font> was consulted.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Widespread alarm has been caused in London by the report that a + certain famous artist has threatened to paint a Futurist picture of a + typical O.B.E.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A Dutch paper reminds us that the ex-<font + class="sc">Crown-Prince</font> has taken a Berlin University degree. We + can only suppose that nobody saw him take it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>In the case of a will recently admitted to probate it was stated that + the testator had disposed of over seven hundred thousand pounds in less + than a hundred words. It is not expected that the Ministry of Munitions + will take this lying down.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>It is said that unless the new Unemployment Insurance is an + improvement on the present rates quite a number of deserving people will + be thrown into work.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Much sympathy is felt for the burglars who broke into a house at Herne + Hill last week. Unfortunately for them the grocer's bill had been paid + the previous day.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>We gather that, if <font class="sc">Dempsey</font> still refuses to + come to London to fight <font class="sc">Carpentier</font>, Mr. <font + class="sc">Cochran</font> will arrange to take London out to him.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>The Lobby Correspondent of <i>The Daily Express</i> states that it has + been suggested that the <font class="sc">Premier</font> should take a + long voyage round the world. It would be interesting to know whether the + proposal comes from England or the world.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"The honest man in Germany," says Herr <font class="sc">Haase</font>, + "will not agree to hand over the German officers to the British." We + think it would be only fair if Germany would send us the name and address + of this honest man.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Leather is being used in the new Spring suits, says a daily newspaper. + Smith Minor informs us that he always derives greater protection from the + use of a piece of stout tin.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>The collecting of moleskins has been forbidden by the Belgian + Government except in gardens. Lure the beast into the strawberry bed by + imitating the bark of the wild slug and the rest is mere spade-work.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>We understand that there is some talk of Lord <font + class="sc">Fisher</font> giving up work and retiring into politics.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/115.png"><img width="100%" src="images/115.png" + alt="" /></a> + <h3>THE CRIME WAVE.</h3> + + <p class="center"><i>ALI BABA</i> REPEATING ITSELF. FORTY THIEVES + DISCOVERED AT A LONDON RAILWAY STATION.</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h4>Matrimonial Economy.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Travelling in a becoming suit of Copenhagen blue with hat to match + the newly weds left on the Duluth train."—<i>Canadian + Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"She looked as Eurydice when her captor-King carried her away from + earth and gave her instead the queenship of Hell."—<i>"Daily Mail" + Feuilleton.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>Presumably Persephone had secured a decree <i>nisi</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"These cowardly murders and attempted assassinations are abhorrent to + the national mind, whatever its political views may be, and it will not + seek to exterminate in any way the position of those who have any share + in them."—<i>Provincial Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>We still think extermination is the best thing for them.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page122" id="page122"></a>[pg 122]</span> + +<h3>A SELFLESS PARTY.</h3> + + <blockquote> + <p>["They (the electorate) know that we (the Labour Party) are not, and + never will be, merely concerned in the interests of one particular + class."—<i>Mr. <font class="sc">Thomas</font> in "The Sunday + Times."</i></p> + + <p>"Nationalization was proposed not to gain increased wages for workers, + but in the national interest.... They were prepared to produce to the + last ounce of their capacity to give to the nation and to humanity all + the coal they required. If he thought that this scheme was intended to or + would give the miners an advantage at the expense of the State he would + oppose it."—<i>Mr. <font class="sc">Brace</font>, in the House of + Commons.</i>]</p> + + </blockquote> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Though Comrade <font class="sc">Smillie</font> keeps a private passion</p> + <p class="i2">That yearns to see Sinn Fein upon its own,</p> + <p>Clearly we cannot put our Unions' cash on</p> + <p class="i2">Men with a motto like "<font class="sc">Ourselves Alone</font>;"</p> + <p class="i8">To us all folk are brothers</p> + <p>And on our bunting runs the rede, "<font class="sc">For Others</font>."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Our hearts are ever with the poor consumer;</p> + <p class="i2">We long to give his sky a touch of blue;</p> + <p>To doubt this fact is to commit a bloomer,</p> + <p class="i2">To falsify our record, misconstrue</p> + <p class="i8">The ends we struggle for,</p> + <p>As illustrated in the recent War.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We struck from time to time, but not at Cæsar,</p> + <p class="i2">Not to secure the highest pay we could;</p> + <p>Our loyalty kept gushing like a geyser;</p> + <p class="i2">We had for single aim the common good;</p> + <p class="i8">Who treads the path of duty</p> + <p>May well ignore the cry of "<i>Et tu, Brute!</i>"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Humanity's the cause for which we labour;</p> + <p class="i2">The hope that spurs us on to do our best</p> + <p>Is "O that I may truly serve my neighbour,</p> + <p class="i2">And prove the love that burns within my breast,</p> + <p class="i8">And save his precious soul</p> + <p>By a reduction in the cost of coal!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Nationalize the mines, and there will follow</p> + <p class="i2">More zeal (if possible) in him that delves;</p> + <p>Our eager altruists will simply wallow</p> + <p class="i2">In work pursued for others (not themselves),</p> + <p class="i8">Thrilled with the noble thought—</p> + <p>"My Country's all to me and Class is naught!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i16">O.S.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A STORY WITH A POINT.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>With Mr. Punch's apologies for not having sent it on to +"The Spectator."</i>)</p> + + <p>Geoffrey has an Irish terrier that he swears by. I don't mean by this + that he invokes it when he becomes portentous, but he is always annoying + me with tales, usually untruthful, of the wonderful things this dog has + done.</p> + + <p>Now I have a pointer, Leopold, who really is a marvellous animal, and + I work off tales of his doings on Geoffrey when he is more than usually + unbearable.</p> + + <p>Until a day or two ago we were about level.</p> + + <p>Although Geoffrey knows far more dog stories than I do, and has what + must be a unique memory, I have a very fair power of invention, and by + working this gift to its utmost capacity I have usually been able to keep + pace with him.</p> + + <p>As I said, the score up to a few days ago was about even; yesterday, + however, was a red-letter day and I scored an overwhelming victory. Bear + with me while I tell you the whole story.</p> + + <p>I was struggling through the porridge of a late breakfast when + Geoffrey strolled in. I gave him a cigarette and went on eating. He + wandered round the room in a restless sort of way and I could see he was + thinking out an ending for his latest lie. I was well away with the toast + and marmalade when he started.</p> + + <p>"You know that dog of mine, Rupert? Well, yesterday—"</p> + + <p>I let him talk; I could afford to be generous this morning. He had + hashed up an old story of how this regrettable hound of his had saved the + household from being burnt to death in their beds the night before.</p> + + <p>I did not listen very attentively, but I gathered it had smelt smoke, + and, going into the dining-room, had found the place on fire and had + promptly gone round to the police-station.</p> + + <p>When he had finished I got up and lit a pipe.</p> + + <p>"Not one of your best, Geoffrey, I'm afraid—not so good, for + instance, as that one about the coastguard and the sea-gulls; still, I + could see you were trying. Now I'll tell you about Leopold's + extraordinary acuteness yesterday afternoon.</p> + + <p>"We—he and I—were out on the parade, taking a little + gentle after-luncheon exercise, when I saw him suddenly stop and start to + point at a man sitting on one of the benches a hundred yards in front of + us; but not in his usual rigid fashion; he seemed to be puzzled and + uncertain whether, after all, he wasn't making a mistake."</p> + + <p>Here Geoffrey was unable to contain himself, as I knew he would + be.</p> + + <p>"Lord! That chestnut! You went and asked the man his name and he told + you that it was Partridge."</p> + + <p>"No," I said, "you are wrong, Geoffrey; his name, on inquiry, proved + to be Quail. But that was only half the problem solved. Why, I thought, + should Leopold have been so puzzled? And then an idea struck me. I went + back to the man on the bench and, with renewed apologies, asked him if he + would mind telling me how he spelt his name. He put his hand into his + pocket and produced a card. On it was engraved, '<font class="sc">J.M. + Quayle</font>.' Then I understood. It was the spelling that puzzled + Leopold."</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE NEW APPEAL.</h3> + + <p>We observe with interest the latest development in the London + Press—the appearance of the new Labour journal, <i>The Daily + Nail</i>.</p> + + <p>In the past, attempts to found a daily newspaper for the propagation + of Labour views have not always met with success. Possibly the fault has + been that they made their appeal too exclusively to the Labour public. We + understand that every care will be taken that our contemporary shall + under no circumstances be a financial failure.</p> + + <p><i>The Daily Nail</i> is a bright little sheet, giving well-selected + news, popular "magazine" and "home" features, and, on the back page, a + number of pictures. It has a strong financial section, a well-informed + Society column, and a catholic and plentiful display of advertisements, + including announcements of many of those costly luxuries which Labour + to-day is able to afford.</p> + + <p>While in its editorial comments it suggests emphatically that the + Government of the day is not and never can be satisfactory, it refrains + from embarrassing our statesmen with too many concrete proposals for + alternative methods.</p> + + <p>We learn that the new Labour daily is substantially backed by a + nobleman of pronounced democratic ideals. From his Lordship down to the + humblest employee there exists among the staff a beautiful spirit of + fellowship unmarked by social distinction.</p> + + <p>"Good morning, comrade," is the daily greeting of his Lordship to the + lift-boy, who replies with the same greeting, untarnished by + servility.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page123" id="page123"></a>[pg 123]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/117.png"><img width="100%" src="images/117.png" + alt="" /></a> + <h3>THE NEW COALITION.</h3> + + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">Asquith</font> (<i>to Viscount <font + class="sc">Chaplin</font> and Lord <font class="sc">Robert + Cecil</font></i>). "THANKS, MY FRIENDS—THANKS FOR YOUR LOYAL + SUPPORT. DO MY EYES DECEIVE ME, OR DO I SEE BIG BEN?"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page124" id="page124"></a>[pg 124]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/118.png"><img width="100%" src="images/118.png" + alt="" /></a> + <p><i>Son of House</i> (<i>entertaining famous explorer and + distinguished professor</i>). "<font class="sc">It would astonish you + fellows if I told you some of the things I've seen and heard— + though I'm, comparatively speaking, a young man—twenty-two, to be + exact.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>THE INSOMNIAC.</h2> + + <p>Miss Brown announced her intention of retiring to roost. Not that she + was likely to sleep a blink, she said; but she thought all + early-Victorian old ladies should act accordingly.</p> + + <p>She asked Aunt Angela what she took for her insomnia. Aunt Angela said + she fed it exclusively on bromides. Edward said he gave his veronal and + <font class="sc">Schopenhauer</font>, five grains of the former or a + chapter of the latter.</p> + + <p>They prattled of the dietary and idiosyncrasies of their several + insomnias as though they had been so many exacting pet animals. Miss + Brown then asked me what I did for mine.</p> + + <p>Edward spluttered merrily. "He rises with the nightingale, comes + bounding downstairs some time after tea and wants to know why breakfast + isn't ready. Only last week I heard him exhorting Harriet to call him + early next day as he was going to a dance."</p> + + <p>They all looked reproachfully at me because I didn't keep a pet + insomnia too. I spoke up for myself. I admitted I hadn't got one, and + what was more was proud of it. All healthy massive thinkers are heavy + sleepers, I insisted. They must sleep heavily to recuperate the enormous + amount of vitality expended by them in their waking hours. Sleep, I + informed my audience, is Nature's reward to the blameless and energetic + liver. If they could not sleep now they were but paying for past years of + idleness and excess, and they had only themselves to blame. I was going + on to tell them that an easy conscience is the best anodyne, etc., but + they snatched up their candles and went to bed. I went thither myself + shortly afterwards.</p> + + <p>I was awakened in the dead of night by a rapping at my door.</p> + + <p>"Who's there?" I growled.</p> + + <p>"I—Jane Brown," said a hollow voice.</p> + + <p>"What's the matter?"</p> + + <p>"Hush, there are men in the house."</p> + + <p>"If they're burglars tell 'em the silver's in the sideboard."</p> + + <p>"It's the police."</p> + + <p>I sat up in bed. "The police!—why?—what?"</p> + + <p>"Shissh! come quickly and don't make a noise," breathed Miss + Brown.</p> + + <p>I hurried into a shooting-jacket and slippers and joined the lady on + the landing. She carried a candle and was adequately if somewhat + grotesquely clad in a dressing-gown and an eider-down quilt secured about + her waist by a knotted bath-towel. On her head she wore a large black + hat. She put her finger to her lips and led the way downstairs. The hall + was empty.</p> + + <p>"That's curious," said Miss Brown. "There were eighteen mounted + policemen in here just now. I was talking to the Inspector—such a + nice young man, an intimate friend of the late Sir <font + class="sc">Christopher Wren</font>, who, he informs me privately, did + <i>not</i> kill Cock Robin."</p> + + <p>She paused, winked and then suddenly dealt me three hearty + smacks—one on the shoulder, one on the arm and one in the small of + the back. I removed myself hastily out of range.</p> + + <p>"Tarantulas, or Peruvian ant-bears, crawling all over you," Miss Brown + explained. "Fortunate I saw them in time, as their suck is fatal in + ninety-nine cases out of a million, or so <font + class="sc">Garibaldi</font> says in the <i>Origin of Species</i>." She + sniffed. "Tell me, do you smell blood?"</p> + + <p>I told her that I did not.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page125" id="page125"></a>[pg 125]</span> + + <p>"I do," she said, "quite close at hand too. Yum-yum, I like warm + blood." She looked at me through half-closed eyelids. "I should think + you'd bleed very prettily, very prettily."</p> + + <p>I removed myself still further out of range, assuring her that in + spite of my complexion I was in reality anæmic.</p> + + <p>She pointed a finger at me. "I know where those policemen are. They're + in the garden digging for the body."</p> + + <p>"What body?" I gasped.</p> + + <p>"Why, <font class="sc">Einstein's</font>, of course," said Miss Brown. + "Edward murdered him last night for his theory. Didn't you suspect?"</p> + + <p>I confessed that I had not.</p> + + <p>"Oh, yes," she said; "smothered him with a pen-wiper. I saw him do it, + but I said nothing for Angela's sake, she's so refined."</p> + + <p>She darted from me into the drawing-room. I followed and found her + standing before the fireplace waving the candle wildly in one hand, a + poker in the other and sniffing loudly.</p> + + <p>"We must save Edward," she said; "we must find the body and hide it + before they can bring in a writ of <i>Habeas Corpus</i>. It is here. I + can smell blood. Look under the sofa."</p> + + <p>She made a flourish at me with her weapon and I at once dived under + the sofa. I am a brave man, but I know better than to withstand people in + Miss Brown's state of mind.</p> + + <p>"Is it there?" she inquired.</p> + + <p>"No."</p> + + <p>"Then search under the carpet—quickly!"</p> + + <p>She swung the poker round her head and I searched quickly under the + carpet. During the next hour, at the dictates of her and her poker, I + burrowed under a score of carpets, swarmed numerous book-cases, explored + a host of cupboards, dived under a multitude of furniture and even + climbed into the open chimney-place of the study, because Miss Brown's + nose imagined it smelt roasting flesh up there. These people must be + humoured. When I came down (accompanied by a heavy fall of soot) the lady + had vanished. I rushed into the hall. She was mounting the stairs.</p> + + <p>"Where are you going now?" I demanded.</p> + + <p>She leaned over the balustrade and nodded to me, yawning broadly: "To + Edward's room. He must have taken the corpse to bed with him."</p> + + <p>"Stop! Hold on! Come back," I implored, panic-stricken. Miss Brown + held imperviously on. I sped after her, but mercifully she had got the + rooms mixed in her decomposed brain and, instead of turning into + Edward's, walked straight into her own and shut the door behind her. I + wedged a chair against the handle to prevent any further excursions for + the night and crept softly away.</p> + + <p>As I went I heard a soft chuckle from within, the senseless laughter, + as I diagnosed it, of a raving maniac.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>I got down to breakfast early next morning, determined to tell the + whole sad story and have Miss Brown put under restraint without further + ado.</p> + + <p>Before I could get a word out, however, the lunatic herself appeared, + looking, I thought, absolutely full of beans. She and Aunt Angela + exchanged salutations.</p> + + <p>"I hope you slept better last night, Jane."</p> + + <p>"Splendidly, thank you, Angela, except for an hour or so; but I got up + and walked it off."</p> + + <p>"Walked it off! Where?"</p> + + <p>"All over the house. Most exciting."</p> + + <p>"Do you mean to say you were walking about the house last night all by + yourself?" Aunt Angela exclaimed in horror.</p> + + <p>Miss Brown shook her grey head. "Oh, no, not by myself. Our + sympathetic young friend had a touch of insomnia himself for once and was + good enough to keep me company." She smiled sweetly in my direction. "He + was <i>most</i> entertaining. I've been chuckling ever since."</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Patlander.</font></p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:66%;"> + <a href="images/119.png"><img width="100%" src="images/119.png" + alt="" /></a> + <p><i>Urchin</i> (<i>who has been "moved on" by emaciated + policeman</i>). "<font class="sc">Ain't yer got a cook on your + beat</font>?"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h4>Our Spartan Editors.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"<font class="sc">Wanted: The Cat.</font> By Horatio + Bottomley."—<i>John Bull.</i></p> + + </blockquote> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page126" id="page126"></a>[pg 126]</span> + +<h2>MARDI GRAS.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>With the British Army in France.</i>)</p> + + <p>"Have you reflected, <i>mon chou</i>," said M'sieur Bonneton, + complacently regarding the green carnations on his carpet-slippers, "that + to-morrow is Mardi Gras?"</p> + + <p>"I have," replied Madame shortly.</p> + + <p>"One may expect then, <i>ma petite,</i> that there will be + <i>crêpes</i> for dinner?"</p> + + <p>"With eggs at twelve francs the dozen?" said Madame decidedly. "One + may not."</p> + + <p>On any other matter M'sieur would probably have taken his wife's + decision as final, but he had a consuming passion for <i>crêpes</i>, and + was moreover a diplomat.</p> + + <p>"<i>La vie chère!</i>" he said sadly; "it cuts at the very vitals of + hospitality. With what pleasure I could have presented myself to our + amiable neighbours, the Sergeant-Major Coghlan and his estimable wife, + and said, 'It is the custom in France for all the world to eat + <i>crêpes</i> on Mardi Gras. Accept these, then, made by Madame Bonneton + herself, who in the making of this national delicacy is an incomparable + artist.' But when eggs are twelve francs the dozen"—he shook his + head gloomily—"generous sentiments must perish."</p> + + <p>Madame perceptibly softened.</p> + + <p>"Perhaps, after all, I might persuade that miser Dobelle to sell me a + few at ten francs the dozen," she murmured; and M'sieur knew that + diplomacy had won another notable victory.</p> + + <p>Curiously enough, at this precise moment the tenants of the <i>premier + étage</i> of 10 <i>bis</i>, rue de la République, were also engaged in a + gastronomic discussion.</p> + + <p>"If almanacs in France count as they do in Aldershot," said Mrs. + Coghlan, "to-morrow will be Shrove Tuesday."</p> + + <p>"An' what av it?" demanded Sergeant-Major Coghlan of the British + Army.</p> + + <p>"What of it? As though ye'd not been dreaming of pancakes this + fortnight an' more past—fearful to mention thim an' fearful lest I + should forget. Well, well, if ye'll bring a good flour ration in the + marning I'll do me best."</p> + + <p>"I've been thinking, Peggy lass," said the gratified Sergeant-Major, + "it wud be the polite thing to make a few for thim dacent people on the + ground-flure. I'll wager they've niver seen th' taste av' a pancake in + this country."</p> + + <p>Thus it was that when Hippolyte Larivière, the cornet-player of the + Palais de Cinéma, ascended the stairs to his eerie on the top-floor of 10 + <i>bis</i> the following evening the appetising odour of frying batter + enveloped him as a garment. He sniffed appreciatively.</p> + + <p>"<i>Le gros</i> Bonneton can eat <i>crêpes</i> freely without + considering the effect on his temperament," he said. "One sometimes + regrets the demands of Art."</p> + + <p>Outside the Coghlans' door another idea struck him. "The essence of a + present lies not in its value but its appropriateness. A few + <i>crêpes</i> on Mardi Gras would be a novel acknowledgment to the + Sergeant-Major of his liberality in the way of cigarettes. At present my + case is empty."</p> + + <p>Retracing his steps he went to the Café aux Gourmets and persuaded the + <i>propriétaire</i> to prepare half-a-dozen <i>crêpes</i> with all + possible speed and send them piping-hot to his room in exchange for a + promise of his influence in getting her on the free list of the Cinema. + Then, in a glow of virtue, he returned to prepare his toilette for the + evening performance.</p> + + <p>It was while Hippolyte was dabbing his cheeks with a damp towel that + M'sieur Bonneton and Sergeant-Major Coghlan, having comfortably satisfied + their respective appetites with <i>crêpes</i> and pancakes, proceeded to + call upon each other, bearing gifts. The dignity of the presentations was + impaired by the fact that they almost collided on the stairs.</p> + + <p>"Mrs. Coghlan wud like your opinion on these pancakes," said the + Sergeant-Major, dexterously fielding one that was sliding from the + plate.</p> + + <p>"And permit me to beg your acceptance of these <i>crêpes</i>, a dish + peculiar to France and eaten as a matter of custom on Mardi Gras," said + M'sieur in his most correct English, producing his plate with a flourish + worthy of a head-waiter.</p> + + <p>"'Tis with all the pleasure in life we'll be tasting thim—" + commenced Coghlan. Then his eye fell on the dish and his voice dropped. + M'sieur was also showing signs of embarrassment.</p> + + <p>"It seems <i>crêpes</i> is but another name for pancakes," said the + Sergeant-Major heavily, after a pause.</p> + + <p>"But yes—and I am already filled to repletion."</p> + + <p>"We've aiten our fill too, Peggy an' me, an' they're spoilt whin + they're cowld. It's severely disappointed Peggy will be to find thim + wasted."</p> + + <p>"And Madame will be desolated to despair."</p> + + <p>They stared blankly at each other for a few minutes. Then M'sieur took + a heroic resolve.</p> + + <p>"We must not hurt the feelings of those excellent women," he said + firmly. "There is but one course open to us."</p> + + <p>Coghlan nodded assent. Solemnly and without enthusiasm they sat on the + stairs and consumed the pancakes to the last crumb. Then, leaden-eyed and + breathing hard, they took their empty plates and entered their respective + flats.</p> + + <p>A few minutes later they again encountered on the stairs. Once more + they were laden with comestibles.</p> + + <p>"For Monsieur Larivière," explained M'sieur. "Madame insisted. She has + a heart of gold, that woman."</p> + + <p>"Peggy's sending these up too," said the Sergeant-Major. "I towld her + thim pancakes was the greatest surprise you iver tasted."</p> + + <p>M'sieur nodded. In response to Hippolyte's invitation they entered the + room, and M'sieur took command of the conversation. The Sergeant-Major + stood stiffly to attention, feeling that the occasion demanded it.</p> + + <p>"Two little gifts," said M'sieur, "of epicurean distinction. The + <i>crêpes</i> of Madame Bonneton are an achievement, but the pancakes of + Madame Coghlan are irresistible."</p> + + <p>"I thank you from the recesses of my heart," said Hippolyte with + emotion; "but—you understand me—as the slave of Art I am + compelled to forgo such pleasures."</p> + + <p>"My friend," said M'sieur sternly, to refuse them would be an affront + to the cooking of these excellent ladies. A true housewife esteems her + cooking only next to her virtue. You must <i>eat</i> them—while + they are hot."</p> + + <p>"But my <i>tremolo</i>—my <i>sostenuto</i> will be ruined," said + Hippolyte wildly.</p> + + <p>"What is your <i>tremolo</i> to a woman's tears?" said M'sieur, with + an elegance born of a fear that he might be compelled to eat the pancakes + himself. "The laws of hospitality—chivalry—<i>l'entente + cordiale</i> itself—demand that you finish them."</p> + + <p>When Hippolyte finally yielded, his rapid and efficient despatch of + the dainties excited the admiration of his hosts. They had collected + their plates and were taking their departure, with expressions of regard, + when a knock announced the arrival of a <i>garçon</i> from the Café aux + Gourmets, bearing a dish of crisp hot <i>crêpes</i>.</p> + + <p>"One moment, Messieurs," said Hippolyte dramatically to his departing + visitors. "It must not be said that Hippolyte Larivière lacks in + neighbourly feeling. Behold my seasonable gift!"</p> + + <p>M'sieur groaned. The Sergeant-Major, being a soldier, concealed his + apprehensions. Wild thoughts of surreptitiously disposing of them in a + coal-bin whirled through their minds, but Hippolyte apparently divined + their thoughts.</p> + + <p>"I regret that I must forgo the pleasure I promised myself of asking + the ladies to take <i>crêpes</i> with me," he said. "To offer these would + be a poor compliment to their superlative efforts. But there is no reason + why <i>you</i> should not eat them here."</p> + + <p>"I have an excellent reason," said M'sieur, stroking his waistcoat. + "And the gallant Sergeant-Major, I imagine, has another."</p> + + <p>"Bah! what is a little digestive inconvenience to a breach of + courtesy?" cried Hippolyte maliciously. "You must eat them. <i>The law of + hospitality demands it.</i>"</p> + + <p>When M'sieur and the Sergeant-Major stumbled unsteadily downstairs ten + minutes later their eyes bulged with the expression of those whose cup of + suffering is filled to overflowing.</p> + + <p>"But after all," as M'sieur remarked, placing his hand on his heart, + whence it insensibly wandered to a point lower down, "it is some + satisfaction to know that the feelings of our excellent wives remain + unlacerated."</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page127" id="page127"></a>[pg 127]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/121.png"><img width="100%" src="images/121.png" + alt="" /></a> + <h3>MANNERS AND MODES.</h3> + + <p class="center">THE NEW POOR MAKE GOOD.</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page128" id="page128"></a>[pg 128]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/122.png"><img width="100%" src="images/122.png" + alt="" /></a> + <h3>BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND.</h3> + + <p>HE SWORE TO BECOME A CINEMA-ACTOR.</p> + + <p class="author">AND HE DID.</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h3>SHATTERED ROMANCES.</h3> + + <p><font class="sc">Dear Mr. Punch</font>,—I read in a weekly paper + that "plans are well in hand for putting up other Government Department + buildings at Acton, which looks to have a future of its own, that of a + sort of suburban Whitehall."</p> + + <p>Have you considered what this new departure means for those who, like + myself, are the writers of political romance? To all intents we have lost + the Ball-platz; we have lost the Wilhelmstrasse, and now here is + Whitehall going out into the suburbs.... No doubt our leading Ministers, + attracted by the more salubrious air, will establish themselves in the + environs of the Metropolis, leaving behind them only the lower class of + civil servant. Have you considered the devastating effect of this + change?</p> + + <p>Think what we used to give our readers: "A heavy mist lay over + Whitehall. High above the seething traffic the busy wires hummed with the + fate of Empires." How, I ask you, will it look when they read: "The busy + wires above Lewisham High Street hummed with the fate of Empires"?</p> + + <p>Or think of the thrill that was conveyed by this (it comes in three of + my most recent books): "He looked, with a little catch in the throat, and + read the number, 'Ten'—No. 10, Downing Street, where the finger of + fate writes its decrees while a trembling continent waits, where empires + are made and unmade—the hub of the universe...." Doesn't that make + even <i>your</i> heart beat faster? But who will thrill at this: "He + waited for a moment before the bijou semi-detached villa (bath h. and + c.), known as Bella Vista, in Rule Britannia Road, Willesden Junction; + then with a swift glance up and down he stealthily approached. When the + neat maid opened the door, 'Is the Prime Minister in?' he asked?" (He did + not hiss. Who could hiss in that atmosphere?)</p> + + <p>Or take this from my last book (shall I ever write its like again?): + "Men, bent with the weight of secrets which, if known, would send a + shiver through the Chancelleries of Europe, could be seen hurrying across + the Mall in the pale light and going towards the great building in which + England's foreign policy is shaped and formulated." But the Foreign + Office at Swiss Cottage, or Wandsworth—I could not write of it. And + there will be the India Office at Tooting, or Ponder's End, or + at—But how can your "dusky Sphinx-like faces, wrapt in the mystery + of the East, be seen passing the purlieus of"—the Ilford + Cinema?</p> + +<p class="center">But enough, Sir. Let me subscribe myself</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">A Ruined Man</font>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page129" id="page129"></a>[pg 129]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/123.png"><img width="100%" src="images/123.png" + alt="" /></a> + <div class="i16"> + <p><i>Teacher.</i> "<font class="sc">What are elephants tusks made + of?</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Smart Boy.</i> "<font class="sc">Please, teacher, it used to be + ivory; but now it's generally bonzoline.</font>"</p> + </div> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>A STORM IN A TEA-SHOP.</h2> + +<p class="center"><font class="sc">A New Tale of a Grandfather.</font></p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>You ask me, Tommy, to tell you the really bravest deed</p> + <p>That was ever yet accomplished by one of the bull-dog breed,</p> + <p>And, although the hero was never so much as an O.B.E.,</p> + <p>I think I can safely pronounce it the bravest known to me.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It was not done in the trenches, nor yet in a submarine,</p> + <p>Mine-sweeper or battle-cruiser; it was not filmed on the screen;</p> + <p>For, though the man who performed it had three gold stripes on his sleeve,</p> + <p>It happened in Nineteen-Twenty, when he was in town on leave.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He was strolling along the pavement, a pavement packed to the kerb,</p> + <p>When he felt a sudden craving for China's fragrant herb,</p> + <p>So he turned into a tea-shop—as he said, "like a silly fool"—</p> + <p>Which was patronised by the leaders of the ultra-Georgian school.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He ordered his tea and muffin, and, as he munched and sipped,</p> + <p>Strange scraps of conversation his errant fancy gripped,</p> + <p>Strange talk of form and metre, of "Wheels" and of <font class="sc">Sherard Vines</font>,</p> + <p>And scorn of <font class="sc">Tennyson</font>, <font class="sc">Browning</font> and <font class="sc">Swinburne</font> (of The Pines).</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He listened awhile in silence, but at last the fire grew hot,</p> + <p>When he heard "The Lotus-Eaters" described as "luscious rot";</p> + <p>And he shouted out in the madness that is one of Truth's allies,</p> + <p>"Old <font class="sc">Tennyson's</font> little finger is thicker than all your thighs."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A hush fell on the tea-shop, and then the storm arose</p> + <p>As a chunk of old dry seed-cake took him plumb upon the nose,</p> + <p>And a cup, a generous jorum, of boiling cocoa nibs,</p> + <p>Hurled by a brawny Georgian, struck squarely on his ribs.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For several hectic minutes the air was thick with buns,</p> + <p>It was almost as bad, so he told me, as the shelling of the Huns,</p> + <p>But our gallant Tennysonian held on until a clout</p> + <p>In the eye from a metal teapot knocked him ultimately out.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A sympathetic waitress fled off to fetch the police,</p> + <p>Whose opportune arrival caused hostilities to cease,</p> + <p>And they carefully conveyed him to a hospital hard by</p> + <p>Where a skilful surgeon managed to preserve his wounded eye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It was from the self-same surgeon that I subsequently learned</p> + <p>The first remark of the victim when his consciousness returned:—</p> + <p>"The Georgians may shine at shying the crumpet and the scone,</p> + <p>But as poets they're just No Earthly compared with <font class="sc">Tennyson</font>."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He never got a medal for his exploit, or a star,</p> + <p>And his only decoration was an ugly frontal scar;</p> + <p>But still I hold him highest among heroic men,</p> + <p>This lone Victorian champion in the Georgian lions' den.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page130" id="page130"></a>[pg 130]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/124.png"><img width="100%" src="images/124.png" + alt="" /></a> + <p>"<font class="sc">Bed, Sir? Here is a genuine Jacobean, for which we + are asking only two hundred and fifty guineas.</font>"</p> + + <p>"<font class="sc">Well, to tell you the truth I wasn't wanting to + <i>buy</i> one. But I can't get a bed anywhere in London, and I was + just wondering if you could let me sleep in it to-night.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h3>DOMESTIC STRATEGY.</h3> + + <p>I will admit that it was I who gave Mrs. Brackett the idea. But to + blame me for the very unfortunate <i>dénouement</i> is ridiculous.</p> + + <p>I met Mrs. Blackett in Sloane Street.</p> + + <p>"I'm on my way to a registry-office," she said. "No, not that kind of + registry-office; I'm not about to commit bigamy. I mean the kind where + domestic assistants are sought, but mostly in vain. I suppose you don't + know of a cook, a kitchenmaid, a housemaid, a parlourmaid and a + tweeny?"</p> + + <p>I confessed that I did not. But I told her the story of some friends + of mine who had been in a similar position and had succeeded in + reorganising their establishment by an ingenious strategy.</p> + + <p>"The wife went away to stay with friends in the country," I said, "and + the husband went to the registry-office, representing himself to be a + bachelor, a rather easy-going bachelor. It seems that such establishments + are popular with the few domestic servants still at large. After a short + time he let it be known that he was really married, but separated from + his wife; and after a further interval he called his household together + and with tears in his voice informed them that he and his wife had + composed their differences and that she was returning to him on the + morrow. I understand that it was a complete success."</p> + + <p>Mrs. Brackett was very much impressed by this story.</p> + + <p>"If I don't find anyone to-day I shall try it," she said as we + parted.</p> + + <p>She did not find anyone, and, she did try it. She left home the + following day, as I learnt from Brackett when I met him a week later.</p> + + <p>"Your tip's come off absolutely A 1," he said, "and I'm most awfully + obliged. The worry was getting on my wife's nerves. As it is I filled up + my establishment a couple of days ago and, as everything is going well, + I've wired my wife to come home to-morrow."</p> + + <p>"Have you broken it to the maids?" I asked doubtfully.</p> + + <p>"Oh, no; but I shall just tell 'em in the morning," said Brackett. + "That'll be all right."</p> + + <p>I felt at the time that he was being far too precipitate, but he + seemed so confident that I didn't interfere. The sequel was + disastrous.</p> + + <p>In the first place Brackett, in his casual way, omitted to say + anything about his being married until Mrs. Brackett was actually in the + house. Even then he seems to have been rather ambiguous in his + explanations. Anyway the new maids were, or affected to be, profoundly + shocked. They intimated that they would never have entered so irregular + an establishment had they known, and departed <i>en masse</i> after + spreading a scandal among the tradespeople which will take the Bracketts + twenty years to live down.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>The Arresting Power of Beauty.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"You dreamed of someone with whiskers who made your heart stop beating + in your tiny waist every time he looked at you."—<i>Home + Notes.</i></p> + + </blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"General, good plain cook; £45; flat, Maida Vale; constant hot + water."—<i>Times.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>But why tell the poor woman beforehand?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"It recalls the distressing aphorism:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>'Life is real, life is earnest,</p> + <p>And things are not what they seem.'"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><i>Liverpool Post and Mercury.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>For example, this may seem like a quotation from the "Psalm of Life," + but it isn't.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page131" id="page131"></a>[pg 131]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/125.png"><img width="100%" src="images/125.png" + alt="" /></a> + <h3>A TEST OF SAGACITY.</h3> + + <p><font class="sc">Mr. Lloyd George.</font> "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, + WITH THE LETTERS I HAVE PLACED BEFORE HIM OUR LEARNED FRIEND WILL NOW + SPELL OUT SOMETHING THAT SIGNIFIES THE GREATEST HAPPINESS FOR + IRELAND."</p> + + <p><font class="sc">The Pig.</font> "<i>I</i> CAN'T MAKE THE BEASTLY + THING SPELL 'REPUBLIC.'"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page133" id="page133"></a>[pg 133]</span> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + + <p><i>Tuesday, February 10th.</i>—As <font class="sc">His + Majesty</font> read his gracious speech to the assembled Lords and + Commons did his thoughts flow back for a moment to the last time he + opened Parliament in person? It was on another February 10th, in 1914, + and so little was the coming storm foreseen that the customary + announcement, "My relations with Foreign Powers continue to be friendly," + was followed by a special reference to the satisfactory progress of "my + negotiations with the German Government and the Ottoman Government" + regarding—Mesopotamia, of all places.</p> + + <div class="figright" style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/126-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/126-1.png" + alt="" /></a> + <font class="sc">I am afraid I am getting controversial</font>."— + <i>Mr. Lloyd George.</i> + </div> + <p>Since then everything has changed—save one. Ireland remains the + skeleton at the feast. The condition of that unhappy country still causes + <font class="sc">His Majesty</font> "grave concern," to be removed, let + us piously hope, by the promised Home Rule Bill. It is true that, as Lord + <font class="sc">Dufferin</font> said when moving the Address in the + Lords, no one in Ireland appears to want the Bill; but then, as Colonel + <font class="sc">Sidney Peel</font>, the Mover in the Commons, remarked + with equal truth, the ordinary rules of thought do not apply to the Irish + Question.</p> + + <p>The <font class="sc">Prime Minister</font> has lately been advised by + a candid friend to take a six months' holiday "to recover his + resilience." Mr. <font class="sc">Adamson</font> and Sir <font + class="sc">Donald Maclean</font> found him nowise lacking in that quality + when he came to reply to their criticisms of the King's Speech. The + Labour leader, convinced by a fortnight in Ireland that the present + Administration was all wrong, and that the Government's Bill would do + nothing to improve it, was bluntly asked, "Are we to withdraw the troops + and leave the assassins in charge?" while the "Wee Free" champion, who + had interpreted the recent by-elections as a sign that the time for the + Coalition was past, was unkindly reminded that, at any rate, the results + of these contests had furnished no encouragement to the party that he + adorns. "But I am afraid I am getting controversial," said Mr. <font + class="sc">Llloyd George</font>, to the amusement of the House, which had + enjoyed his sword-play for half-an-hour; and with that he turned to the + task of defending the new policy in Russia. Having failed to subdue the + Bolshevists by force, we are now going to try the effect of + commerce—a modern reading of "Trade Follows the Flag." The Labour + Party cheered the new departure vociferously, but the rest of the House + seemed a little chilly, and Mr. <font class="sc">Churchill</font>, at the + <font class="sc">Prime Minister's</font> elbow, looked about as happy as + <font class="sc">Napoleon</font> on the return from Moscow.</p> + + <div class="figleft" style="width:33%;"> + <a href="images/126-2.png"><img width="100%" src="images/126-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + <p>HILARITY OF MR. CHURCHILL ON HEARING HIS CHIEF'S VIEWS ABOUT + RUSSIA.</p> + </div> + <p>Lord <font class="sc">Hugh Cecil</font> raised the standard of + economy, and complained that the legislative programme was extravagantly + long. "A large number of Bills generally meant a large amount of + expenditure." I have myself observed this phenomenon.</p> + + <p><i>Wednesday, February 11th.</i>—The Lords, having disposed of + the Address with their usual celerity, welcomed Baron <font + class="sc">Riddell</font> of Walton Heath (and, perhaps I may add, + Bouverie Street) to their ranks, and then adjourned for a week.</p> + + <p>If all Labour Members possessed the sweet reasonableness of Mr. <font + class="sc">Brace</font> we should view the advent of a Labour Government + without any of Mr. <font class="sc">Churchill's</font> misgivings. The + Member for Abertillery argued the case for the nationalisation of mines + so gently and genially that before he sat down I am sure that a good half + of his hearers began to think that, after all, there was "something in + it." Visions of a carboniferous millennium, when there would be no more + strikes and hardly any accidents, and altruistic colliers would hew their + hardest to get cheap and abundant coal for the community, floated before + the mind's eye as Mr. <font class="sc">Brace</font> purred persuasively + along.</p> + + <div class="figright" style="width:33%;"> + <a href="images/126-3.png"><img width="100%" src="images/126-3.png" + alt="" /></a> + THE PIED PIPER OF ABERTILLERY + + <p class="center">(<font class="sc">Mr. W. Brace</font>).</p> + + <p>"<font class="sc">For he led us, he said, to a joyous + land</font></p> + + <p><font class="sc">Where waters gushed and fruit-trees + grew,</font></p> + + <p><font class="sc">And flowers put forth a fairer hue,</font></p> + + <p><font class="sc">And everything was strange and new.</font>"</p> + </div> + <p>Unfortunately for the Nationalisers Mr. <font class="sc">Lunn</font> + thought it necessary later to make a blood-and-thunder oration, + threatening all sorts of dreadful things (including a boycott of the + newspapers) if the Miners' demands were refused. Moreover, he made it + clear that coal was only a beginning and that the Labour Party's ultimate + objective was nationalisation <span class="pagenum"><a name="page134" + id="page134"></a>[pg 134]</span> all round, and wound up by reminding the + House that "we are many and ye are few."</p> + + <p>The <font class="sc">Prime Minister</font> is not the man either to + miss a chance or refuse a challenge. The tone of his reply was set by Mr. + <font class="sc">Lunn</font>, not by Mr. <font class="sc">Brace</font>; + and though he had plenty of solid arguments to advance against the motion + the most telling passage in his speech was a quotation from "Comrade + <font class="sc">Trotsky</font>," showing what Nationalisation had spelt + in Soviet Russia—labour conscription in its most drastic shape. The + nation, he declared, that had fought for liberty throughout the world + would stand to the death against this new bondage.</p> + + <p>Result: Amendment defeated by 329 to 64.</p> + + <p><i>Thursday, February 12th.</i>—This was the first Question-day + of the new Session, and the House was flattered to see Mr. <font + class="sc">Lloyd George</font> in his place, despite the counter-claims + of the Peace Conference at St. James's Palace. Evidently he means this + year to "stick to the shop" more closely, in view, perhaps, of the + possible return from Paisley of the old proprietor.</p> + + <p>To a Labour Member's complaint that several ex-Generals had been + appointed as divisional Food officers, Mr. <font + class="sc">McCurdy</font> replied that no preference was given to + military candidates. But why not? Where will you find more competent + judges of alimentary questions than in the higher ranks of His Majesty's + Forces?</p> + + <p>In attacking the provisions of the Peace Treaty with Germany as + "impracticable," Sir <font class="sc">Donald Maclean</font> revealed + himself as a diligent student of a recent notorious book. Most of his + observations—excepting, perhaps, the statement that he had "no + sentimental tenderness for the Germans"—were marked with the brand + of <font class="sc">Keynes</font>, and his assertion that the utmost + Germany could pay was two thousand millions came bodily from that eminent + statistician. To the same inspiration was possibly due the unhappy + suggestion that our chief Ally was pursuing a policy of revenge.</p> + + <p>For this he was promptly pulled up by Lord <font class="sc">Robert + Cecil</font>, who warned him not to judge the policy of France by the + utterances of certain French newspapers. Lord <font + class="sc">Robert</font> had, however, his own quarrel with the + Government, who, according to his account, had done nothing to set + Central Europe on its legs again, except to send it a certain amount of + food—not, one would would have thought, an altogether bad + preliminary.</p> + + <p>It was a pity that Mr. <font class="sc">Balfour</font> had not a + stronger indictment to answer, for he was dialectically at his best. + After complimenting the Opposition leader on his "charming tones and + anodyne temper" he proceeded to take up his challenge—"if I may + call it a challenge." If Germany was in doubt as to the amount she might + be called upon to pay, she had her remedy, for the Peace Treaty + especially provided that she might offer a "lump sum." The list of + war-criminals was long, no doubt, but we had limited our own demands to + those who were guilty of gratuitous brutality. As for the condition of + Central Europe, that was not the fault of the Peace Treaty, it was the + fault of the War, and this country had done all it reasonably could to + remedy it.</p> + + <p>The Opposition insisted on taking a division, and were beaten by 254 + to 60. So far the "doomed Coalition" seems to be doing rather well.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A SINGLE HOUND.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>When the opal lights in the West had died</p> + <p class="i2">And night was wrapping the red ferns round,</p> + <p>As I came home by the woodland side</p> + <p class="i2">I heard the cry of a single hound.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The huntsman had gathered his pack and gone;</p> + <p class="i2">The last late hoof had echoed away;</p> + <p>The horn was twanging a long way on</p> + <p class="i2">For the only hound that was still astray.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>While, heedless of all but the work in hand,</p> + <p class="i2">Up through the brake where the brambles twine,</p> + <p>Crying his joy to the drowsy land</p> + <p class="i2">Javelin drove on a burning line.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The air was sharp with a touch of frost;</p> + <p class="i2">The moon came up like a wheel of gold;</p> + <p>The wall at the end of the woods he crossed</p> + <p class="i2">And flung away on the open wold.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And long as I listened beside the stile</p> + <p class="i2">The larches echoed that eerie sound,</p> + <p>Steady and tireless, mile on mile,</p> + <p class="i2">The hunting cry of a single hound.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i16">W.H.O.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>"Families Supplied."</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Village General Stores Wanted for dis. soldier: also widow and + daughter; price no object if genuine."—<i>Daily Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"H.B. Playford is 6 feet 5 inches, or thereabouts, in height, has a + fabulous reach, and weighs 13½ stone. He rowed No. 8 in the Jesus four, + beaten by Leander at Henley."—<i>Times.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>A fabulous reach indeed! So fabulous that it made the four look as + long as an eight.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE AMALGAMATED SOCIETY +OF PASSENGERS.</h2> + + <p>"I've hit on something at last," cried Charles exultantly, throwing + himself down on my second-best armchair.</p> + + <p>"I wish you wouldn't hit on it so hard," I complained; "the springs + are half-broken already. What's the trouble?"</p> + + <p>"Have you ever heard," he inquired, "of the black-coated + salariat?"</p> + + <p>"The egg of the greater green-backed woodpecker—"</p> + + <p>"It isn't a bird," he said; "it's a class of people that works with + its brains. And the hand of Labour, according to my evening paper, is + being held out to it."</p> + + <p>"But suppose one wears a pepper-and-salt suit," I said, "and writes + 'Society Gossip.' What about that?"</p> + + <p>"That's just my point. All these accepted lines of distinction are + absolutely wrong. It isn't what people work at that divides them, it's + the way they travel to their work. Sir <font class="sc">Thomas + Malory</font> knew that. When <i>Lancelot</i> was going to rescue + <i>Guinevere</i> he had his white horse badly punctured by a bushment of + archers and had to finish the journey in a woodcutter's cart. And that + was a great disgrace to him and made the <i>Queen's</i> ladies laugh. It + would be just the same with the typists of a rich employer if his + motor-car broke down and he had to arrive in a bus. How do you get to + town in the morning yourself?"</p> + + <p>"I am a Tuber," I said sadly. "Every bright morning I say I will go by + bus, but when I reach the Tube station the draught sucks me in through + the door, the man grabs me by the collar, throws me into the sink, lifts + up the plug and down we go into the drain-pipe together. I think I have + the brand of Tubal Cain on my brow. It is a kind of perpetual + crease—"</p> + + <p>"I too Tube," said Charles; "but I know many eminently respectable bus + people as well. Especially bus-women. They ride about, they tell me, on + the most fantastically labelled vehicles and are always seeing new + suburbs swim into their ken, and gazing—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>'Out over London with a wild surmise,</p> + <p>Silent upon a seat of No. 10,'</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>or whatever the bally thing may be. But I never join their rash + adventures. I belong to a different <i>milieu</i>. I move in a sort of + social underworld. Not that I can deny, of course, that there is a + certain amount of overlapping."</p> + + <p>"I overlapped twice to-day myself," I said, "and as the second one was + knitting a jumper—"</p> + + <p>"And then there are the Tram-ites," he went on. "I don't understand + their <span class="pagenum"><a name="page135" id="page135"></a>[pg + 135]</span> world either. The tram, I am told, suddenly plunges with a + loud roar like a walrus under the streets of Holborn and emerges on the + Embankment. The hansom cabs were called the gondolas of London. The + trams, I suppose, are the submarines. But they are not of my life. I do + not mingle with them."</p> + + <p>"I mingled with a tram once," I said. "I clasped it warmly by the rail + as it was going by, but I missed the step with my foot. It spurned me + rather badly. But kindly explain what you're driving at."</p> + + <p>"All these classes," said Charles, "have their own friendships, their + own jolts and jars, their own way of being bullied by conductors and + thrown into the mud and squeezed into cages and arranged upon straps. But + they have one great thing in common, distinct though they may be. They + are all passengers, all takers of tickets. There is going to be a Bus + Union, a Tube Union, and a Tram Union, and when necessary they will + combine."</p> + + <p>"Against what?"</p> + + <p>"Against the motorists, first and foremost," said Charles. "The + opulent people who ride a-wallop to their offices in cars. Suppose that + Ethelinda Bellairs, who is a trifle absent-minded, has got the sack for + typing a letter like this: 'I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your + communication of the 25th ult., and ask you to note that a sudden sense + of indefinable yearning seized Hephzibah. She closed her eyes and slowly + swayed towards him. Awaiting the favour of an early reply, + etc.'—what happens? There is an immediate strike of the Bus Union + until she is reinstated. If necessary the two other branches of the + Amalgamated Society of Passengers are called out. No case of hardship + will be too insignificant for the A.S.P. We shall all carry a symbol in + the shape of a secret season ticket. When the strike occurs nobody will + go to work in the morning. All the stations and starting-places will be + picketed; business will be paralysed."</p> + + <p>"Except for the stout fellows who walk," I suggested.</p> + + <p>"They will find it very lonely at their offices," said Charles. + "Nobody wants to work if there's any excuse to avoid it, and the beauty + of the thing is that we can strike not only against ordinary employers, + but against the raising of fares, and against the N.U.R. or the Vehicle + and Transport Workers Union itself. That will be the quickest strike that + has ever been struck. You can't go on banging lifts and gates and rushing + about in empty buses without anybody to shove into the dirt or any thumbs + to snip bits out of. It takes all the enjoyment out of life."</p> + + <p>"And where exactly do you come in?" I asked.</p> + + <p>"I intend to be the Organising Secretary of the A.S.P.," he said. "It + will be hard work, but very meritorious."</p> + + <p>"Rather a nuisance won't it be on strike days," I inquired, "going + round and visiting a few thousand pickets on foot in your black coat, + with the brain waves working on top?"</p> + + <p>"The O.S. of the A.S.P.," answered Charles magnificently, "will not + move about on foot. He will be provided with a handsome motor-car."</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Evoe.</font></p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/128.png"><img width="100%" src="images/128.png" + alt="" /></a> + <div class="i16"> + <p><i>Constable.</i> "<font class="sc">Now then, what are you doin' up + here?</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Burglar.</i> "<font class="sc">Wotcher s'pose I'm doin'? Feedin' + the pussy-cats?</font>"</p> + </div> + </div> +<hr /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"A van containing £3,000 worth of woollen goods has been stolen from + Broad-street, Bloomsbury. It was left unattended by the driver, who went + into a restaurant for dinner and later was found empty at + Holloway."—<i>Provincial Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>We know that kind of restaurant.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"<font class="sc">Accounting for Women.</font>"—<i>American + Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>We had always been told there was no accounting for them.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page136" id="page136"></a>[pg 136]</span> + +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> + +<p class="center">"<font class="sc">Carnival.</font>"</p> + + <p>Those who imagined that they were to be given a dramatic version of + Mr. <font class="sc">Compton Mackenzie's</font> romance must have been + shocked to find that the entertainment provided at the New Theatre was + just a variation, from an Italian source, of the general idea of + <i>Pagliacci</i>. But it was the only palpable shock they sustained, for + never did a play run a more obvious course from start to finish. When you + have for your leading character an actor-manager, who plays the part of + <i>Othello</i>, with his wife as <i>Desdemona</i> (how well we know to + our cost this conjugal form of nepotism), and discusses in private life + the character of the Moor—whether a man would be likely to indulge + his jealousy on grounds so inadequate—speaking with the detached + air of one who is absolutely confident of his own wife's fidelity, you + don't need much intelligence to foresee what the envy of the gods is + preparing for him. The remainder is only a matter of detail—what + particular excuse, for instance, the lady will find for a diversion, and + to what lengths she will go.</p> + + <div class="figright" style="width:33%;"> + <a href="images/129.png"><img width="100%" src="images/129.png" + alt="" /></a> + <p><i>Simonetta</i> (<i>Miss <font class="sc">Hilda Bayley</font></i>). + "<font class="sc">Are you pleased with my fancy dress? It was to be a + great surprise.</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Count Andrea</i> (<i>Mr. <font + class="sc">Neilson-Terry</font></i>). "<font class="sc">Nothing + surprises me in this play.</font>"</p> + </div> + <p>In the present case her only excuse was the old one, that she was + "treated like a child." Certainly she deserved to be, for her behaviour + was of the most wilful and wayward; but she was the mother of a strapping + boy, and a woman who is thought old enough to play, in the premier + Italian company, the part of <i>Desdemona</i> (with the accent, too, on + the second syllable) could hardly justify her complaint that she was + regarded as a juvenile.</p> + + <p>The choice of the Alfieri Theatre for the scene of the culmination of + the domestic drama seemed to touch the extreme of improbability. The + actors were not a poor travelling company of mummers, as in + <i>Pagliacci</i>, with no decent private accommodation for this kind of + thing. The protagonist of <i>Carnival</i> was lodged in a perfectly good + Venetian palace, where there was every convenience for having the matter + out with his wife and her lover. For the rest the plot was commonplace to + the verge of banality.</p> + + <p>As <i>Silvio Steno</i>, in his home life, Mr. <font + class="sc">Matheson Lang</font> was excellently natural, but as + <i>Othello</i> his make-up spoilt his nice face and tended to alienate + me. As <i>Simonetta</i> (I got very sick of the name) Miss <font + class="sc">Hilda Bayley</font> had a difficult part, and failed, from no + great fault of her own, to attach our sympathies, till in the end she + explained her rather inscrutable conduct in a defence which gave us for + the first time a sense of sincerity in her character. There was too much + play with her Carnival dress of a Bacchante, which, perhaps, was less + intriguing than we were given to understand. Mr. <font class="sc">Dennis + Neilson-Terry</font> has a certain distinction, but he did not make a + very perfect military paramour. His intonation seemed to lack control, + and he has a curious habit of baring his upper teeth when he is getting + ready to make a forcible remark.</p> + + <p>As for the scenes, they were alleged to be Venice (where the Doges + wedded the sea), but there was no visible sign of water. You called for a + gondola, which always sounds better than a taxi, but it never appeared. + Perhaps, however, for one has not always been very happy in one's + experiences of stage navigation, this was just as well.</p> + +<p class="author">O.S.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">"<font class="sc">Peter Ibbetson.</font>"</p> + + <p>That incorrigible romanticist, <font class="sc">George du + Maurier</font> of happy memory, was so transparently sincere as to be + disarming. No use telling him "life's not like that." "That's just it," + he'd say, and get on with his pleasant illusions. <i>Peter Ibbetson</i> + is certainly not tuned to the moods of this decade, but it would be a + pity if we all became too sophisticated to enjoy such occasional + excursions into the land of almost-grown-up make-believe.</p> + + <p>If life doesn't give you what you want, then "cross your legs, put + your hands behind your head," go to sleep and live a dream-life of your + own devising—that is the theme. The bare essentials of the story + are that the beloved <i>Mimsy</i> of <i>Peter's</i> happy childhood + becomes the wife of a distinctly unfaithful duke; while <i>Peter</i> + finds himself in prison for killing his quite gratuitously wicked uncle, + and for forty years reprieved convict and deceived duchess meet in dreams + till her death divides and his again unites them.</p> + + <p>It is a considerable tribute to both author and adapter (the late + <font class="sc">John Raphael</font>) that their work should, at the + height of the barking season, hold an audience silent and apparently + enthralled, in spite of the handicap that, in order to make the story in + any degree intelligible, much time had to be given to more or less + tedious explanations.</p> + + <p>I will not pretend that the motives of the characters were clear or + that (for me) the phantasy quite passed the test of being translated from + the medium of the written word into that of canvas, gauze and costumed + players, with those scufflings of dim figures in the semi-darkness and + that furtive and by no means noiseless zeal of scene-shifters; or, again, + that I was much attracted by a picture of the life after death, in which + opera-going (please <i>cf.</i> Mr. <font class="sc">Vale Owen</font>) + figured so prominently. Indeed I think that the play would be better if + it ended with the death of the dreamers and did not attempt that + hazardous last passage.</p> + + <p>But certainly there were quite admirable tableaux and some very + intelligent individual playing—in contrast with the team-work of + (particularly) the First Act, which was ragged and amateurish.</p> + + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">Basil Rathbone's</font> <i>Peter</i> was an + effective study, avoiding Scylla of the commonplace and Charybdis of the + mawkish—no mean feat. A young man with a future, I dare hazard; + with a gift of clear utterance, and sensibility and a useful figure.</p> + + <p>It is a good deal to say that Miss <font class="sc">Constance + Collier</font> so contrived her <i>Duchess of Towers</i> as to make us + understand <i>Peter's</i> worship.</p> + + <p>Miss <font class="sc">Jessie Bateman's</font> <i>Mrs. Deane</i> seemed + to me an exceedingly competent piece of work, and Mr. <font + class="sc">Gilbert Hare</font> thoroughly enjoyed every mouthful of + <i>Colonel Ibbetson's</i> wickedness, and made us share his appreciation. + And you couldn't accuse him of over-playing, though he certainly looked + too bad to be true.</p> + + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">William Burchill's</font> little sketch of an old + French officer was almost too poignant.</p> + + <p>Why the landlord of the <i>Tête Noir</i> was got up to resemble Mr. + <font class="sc">Will Evans</font> so closely is a deep matter I could + not fathom, and, if ever I kill my uncle, may Fate send me a less + rhetorical chaplain than Mr. <font class="sc">Cyril Sworder</font>!</p> + +<p class="author">T.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page137" id="page137"></a>[pg 137]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/130.png"><img width="100%" src="images/130.png" + alt="" /></a> + <h3>THE INTRUDER.</h3> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page138" id="page138"></a>[pg 138]</span> + +<h2>THE ORDER OF THE B.S.O.</h2> + + <p>One of the oldest of Mr. Punch's young men thought he would like to + hear some orchestral music on Monday week last, so he dropped in at the + Queen's Hall to assist at a concert of the new British Symphony + Orchestra. The name of the founder and conductor, Mr. <font + class="sc">Raymond Roze</font>, was already familiar, for Mr. Punch's + young man was old enough to remember Mr. <font class="sc">Roze's</font> + mother, <font class="sc">Marie Roze</font>, in her brilliant prime as + <i>prima donna</i> of the Carl Rosa Company; and he is glad to know that + she is still living in her beloved Paris, where she was decorated by + <font class="sc">M. Thiers</font> for her gallant conduct during the + siege of 1870. So it is pleasant to find her son so actively associated + in the good work of finding permanent musical engagements for demobilised + soldiers in the British Symphony Orchestra.</p> + + <p>The B.S.O. men are not home-keeping soldiers. Every one of them has + served over-seas, and it was a pity that their names and the record of + their services were not printed in the programme, for it is a fine and + inspiriting list, and a striking disproof of the old tradition that + musicians must needs be long-haired, sallow and unathletic. Alert and + young and vigorous they appealed to the eye as well as to the ear, and + they played, as they fought, gloriously, these minstrel boys who had all + gone to the War. Strings and woodwind, brass and percussion, all are up + to the best professional level.</p> + + <p>There is no movement which has a stronger claim on all men and women + of goodwill than that for providing employment for demobilized soldiers, + and the British Symphony Orchestra is a first-rate contribution to that + desirable end. The <i>personnel</i> of the orchestra is all that can be + desired. It was bad luck that Mr. <font class="sc">Raymond Roze</font> + was prevented by illness from conducting last week, but the band was + fortunate in securing an admirable substitute in Mr. <font + class="sc">Frank Bridge</font>. Mr. Punch gives the scheme his blessing + without reserve, but with a word of advice. To win for the B.S.O. the + success it deserves will need good judgment as well as energy and + efficiency. The art of programme-framing has to be studied with especial + care in view of the powerful but, we believe, perfectly friendly + competition of other established organizations. Last week's programme had + its <i>beaux moments</i>, but it had also at least two <i>mauvais quarts + d'heure</i>. The men, however, were splendid.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/131.png"><img width="100%" src="images/131.png" + alt="" /></a> + <h3>MORE ADVENTURES OF A POST-WAR SPORTSMAN.</h3> + + <p class="center"><i>P.W.S.</i> (<i>who has taken a Spring + fishing</i>). "<font class="sc">And this is what I've paid three + 'undred quid for!</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h4>The New Colour: Asquithian Rose.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"To-day everything Asquithian has a rosy hue. To begin with, there + arrived a horseshoe of white chrysanthemums with the words 'Good luck' + worked in green."—<i>Daily Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Shakespeare's 'Otehllo' has fallen upon evil days."—<i>Evening + Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>It certainly seems to be having a bad spell.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"The vexed question, 'What is a new-laid egg?' is at present + confronting a committee of poultry experts."—<i>Daily + Telegraph.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>The Committee should invite a hen to sit on it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>An "under-cut":—</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Earl Beatty is setting an example in hustle at the Admiralty. + Photographed yesterday hurrying to lunch."—<i>Daily Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>His Lordship's example is superfluous. The Admiralty has nothing to + learn about hurrying to lunch.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page139" id="page139"></a>[pg 139]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/132.png"><img width="100%" src="images/132.png" + alt="" /></a> + <p><i>Mistress.</i> "<font class="sc">Can you explain how it is, Jane, + that whenever I come into the kitchen I always find you + reading?</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Jane.</i> "<font class="sc">I think it must be them rubber 'eels + you wears, Ma'am.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</p> + + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">John Hastings Turner</font>, who had already to + his credit a play, a novel and various successful revues, has now + produced, in <i>A Place in the World</i> (<font + class="sc">Cassell</font>), what is, I understand, to some extent a + fictional version of his play. How far this may be so I am uncertain (not + having seen the play), but I am by no means uncertain that it makes here + a wholly admirable story, one moreover that shows a notable advance in + Mr. <font class="sc">Turner's</font> art as novelist, being firmer in + touch and generally more matured than anything he has yet written. The + plot concerns the adventures, spiritual and other, of <i>Madame Iris + Iranovna</i>, pampered cosmopolitan beauty, when fate or her own + egotistical whim had dumped her as a temporary dweller in the + semi-detached villas of suburbia. The theme, you observe, is one that + might excuse the wildest farce, since the effect of <i>Iris</i> upon her + unfamiliar surroundings was naturally devastating. Mr. <font + class="sc">Turner</font> however has chosen the more ambitious path of + high comedy. In <i>Iris</i> herself, and even more in the kindly old + vicar who so unexpectedly confronts her with her own weapons of wit and + worldly wisdom, he has drawn two characters of genuine and moving + humanity. I shall not tell you how the conflict (essential to real + comedy) works itself out, nor after what fashion the empty brilliance of + <i>Iris</i> is humiliated and transformed. If I have a criticism of Mr. + <font class="sc">Turner's</font> method, it is that, as with + <i>Bunthorne</i>, a "tendency to soliloquy" is growing upon him which + will need watching. But he clothes his reflections pleasantly enough. + Already known as what the old lady called "an agreeable rattlesnake," he + has now proved himself a story-teller of conspicuous promise.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p><font class="sc">Von Falkenhayn's</font> <i>General Headquarters + 1914-1916 and its Critical Decisions</i> (<font + class="sc">Hutchinson</font>) seems an honester book than <font + class="sc">Ludendorff's</font>; less political, less querulous, less + egoistic. <font class="sc">Von Falkenhayn</font>, who was War Minister + when the War began and retained his office after he had superseded <font + class="sc">Von Moltke</font> as Chief of the General Staff, shows himself + incurably Prussian, refusing even to consider the possibility that any + State which could wage war effectively would hesitate to do so from any + ethical or humanitarian scruple. "Don't bother about a just cause, but + see that it appears just before men," he seems to say. "The surprise + effect of gas (at Ypres) was very great," is all the comment that tragic + episode draws from him. He was a submarine campaign whole-hogger. But he + has his own soldierly virtues of modesty and loyalty, and refuses to air + his personal grievances in the matter of his supersession by the <font + class="sc">Hindenburg-Ludendorff</font> syndicate. If, as seems likely, + he speaks the truth, as he had opportunity to see it, we must revise our + too flattering estimates of the German superiority in numbers and + attribute a good deal of the stubbornness of their defence to their + quicker appreciation of the character of siege war. The holding of + front-line trenches with few men and consequent immense saving of life + was, according to the General, practised by the German Command long + before we discovered its value. He gives a reasoned criticism, which has + to the layman a plausible air, to the effect that <span + class="pagenum"><a name="page140" id="page140"></a>[pg 140]</span> the + relative failure of Joffre's great combined Champagne-Flanders offensive + of 1915 was due to the overcrowding of the attacking armies. General + <font class="sc">von Falkenhayn</font>, though he has a prejudice for the + German soldier, can bring himself to testify to the valour of his British + and French opponent. A readable and conscientious account of a difficult + stewardship.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>I wish I could feel as enthusiastic about <i>The Booming of Bunkie</i> + (<font class="sc">Jenkins</font>) as <i>Mr. Peter McMunn</i>, who, + falling off a motor-cycle, landed in that quiet Scots village and + proceeded to turn it, by a series of stunts, into a well-known + watering-place. He undertook the job, I gather, partly for a joke and + partly for the bright eyes of <i>Evelyn Kirbet</i>, whose father put up + the money for the purposes of publicity and propaganda. The + transformation of a hamlet into a seaside resort has been treated as a + sort of psychological romance by Mr. <font class="sc">Oliver + Onions</font> in <i>Mushroom Town</i>, where the human beings are a + background as it were for the bricks and mortar; Mr. <font + class="sc">A.S. Neill</font>, having chosen to make a farce of it, has + provided a hero who believes in humorous advertisements, and has + evidently persuaded the author to take him at his own valuation. This is + hardly to be wondered at, since <i>Mr. McMunn</i> seems always keener on + popping his puns than on selling his goods. Specimens are given of + speeches, press articles, posters and cinema productions, but the fun + rages with the most furious intensity round the golf links, where + eighteen holes have been compressed into the usual space of one and the + winner stands to lose drinks. There are also some parodies of <font + class="sc">Robert Burns</font>, some jokes about bathing-machines and + some digs at the Kirk. One has been, of course, before to seaside places + that were a bit too bracing, and I am afraid that the air of Bunkie + leaves me cold.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>I really think that <i>The World of Wonderful Reality</i> (<font + class="sc">Hodder and Stoughton</font>) may come to be something of a + test for your true follower of Mr. <font class="sc">E. Temple + Thurston</font>. You recall the ingredients that went towards the first, + or <i>Beautiful Nonsense</i>, book? Sentiment in the slums, Venice with a + very big V and poverty <i>passim</i> might be regarded as its + composition. Well, here you have <i>John</i> and <i>Jill</i> home again; + no more Venice, a palpably decreasing sentiment and only poverty to fill + up with. I am bound to confess that I found <i>John's</i> protracted + preparation for his nuptials rather less than enough as subject-matter + for a whole book. Of course all this time there remained <i>Amber</i> + (you recollect her; she "also ran" for the <i>John</i> stakes), and at + the back of your mind a comfortable conviction that two strings are still + better than one. Having censured the book for insufficient plot, I had + better not proceed to give away what there is. I will content myself with + a personal doubt as to whether <i>John</i> and <i>Jill</i> will quite + reduplicate their former triumph—and that for various reasons, not + least because (for purposes of sequel, I suppose) even <i>Jill</i> + herself has been permitted so grave a lapse from the attitude of + stand-anything-so-long-as-it's-slummy-enough that so endeared her to her + former public. Touch that and the bloom is indeed gone.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p><i>With the Chinks</i> (<font class="sc">Lane</font>), a volume of the + "Active Service Series," treats of the training of Chinese coolies for + work with the Labour Corps in the B.E.F. The special interest of the + racial type was, for me, exhausted by the charming photographs; the task + remaining for Mr. <font class="sc">Daryl Klein</font>, Lieutenant in the + Chinese Labour Corps, of so conveying the atmosphere as to absorb the + reader's attention, was not achieved. On the two main aspects of the + topic, the origin in China and the result in France, he makes no serious + attempt. I got no clear impression of the coolie at home or of why he + took to being an ally, and I was left with but the vaguest conception of + the unit in France, since the narrative ended at the disembarcation. + Lastly, I have with regret to complain of one sentence in particular, + where he tells us: "It is high time I said something about the officers." + He had, from the general reader's point of view, already said too much. + It is a pity to have to speak thus moderately of a war-book obviously + written with care and treating of an enterprise which must have cost much + labour in the achieving and, in the achievement, must have duly + contributed to our victory. For those personally involved it will be a + welcome memento. For the conscientious historian it will have a certain + unique value. And in fairness it must be added that in the latter half + there are touches of humour and humanity which make the reading easy and + pleasant.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>It has been my lot, and I am far from complaining about it, to read + many war-books, but never has my luck been more completely in than when + <i>With the Persian Expedition</i> (<font class="sc">Arnold</font>) fell + into my hands. Major <font class="sc">Donohoe</font>, while never losing + sight of his main object, finds time to tell us a number of entertaining + stories with a sedate humour which is most attractive. Seldom has an + expedition set out on a wilder errand than this of the "Hush-hush" + Brigade, or, as it was officially known, the "Dunsterville" or "Bagdad + Party." It was commanded by General <font class="sc">Dunsterville</font>, + and briefly its objects were to combat Bolshevism, train Persian levies, + prevent the Huns and Turks from threatening India by way of the Caspian + Sea, and a few other little things of the same nature. The men of this + "party" were picked men, and it is enough to say that their courage was + as high as their numbers were few. It is indeed a mystery why any of them + escaped with their lives, for, as experience proved, it was one thing to + train Persian levies and another to get them to fight when they were + wanted to. And without the levies the "Hush-Hush" party was outnumbered + again and again. I could have wished that the excellent map which is + firmly embedded in the binding had been detachable, for the interest of + the chronicle compelled me constantly to refer to it, and I suffered + great distraction.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/133.png"><img width="100%" src="images/133.png" + alt="" /></a> + <div class="i16"> + <p>"<font class="sc">Is he a sailor, Mum?</font>"</p> + + <p>"<font class="sc">Yes, Darling.</font>"</p> + + <p>"<font class="sc">Then where's his parrot?</font>"</p> + </div> + </div> +<hr /> + + <p><i>Sidelights of Song</i> (<font class="sc">Long</font>), by Mr. <font + class="sc">Gilbert Collins</font>, contains a few sets of verse which + have appeared in <i>Punch</i>.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +158, February 18th, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 16401-h.htm or 16401-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/4/0/16401/ + +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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