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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16717-8.txt b/16717-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d52f0f --- /dev/null +++ b/16717-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2164 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159, +September 1st, 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. 159, September 1st, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: September 18, 2005 [EBook #16717] + +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 + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 159. + + + +September 1st, 1920. + + + + +CHARIVARIA. + +A Newcastle miner who was stated to be earning a pound a day has been fined +ten pounds for neglecting his children. The idea of waiting till September +20th and letting Mr. SMILLIE neglect them does not seem to have occurred to +him. + +* * * + +"Beyond gardening," says a gossip writer, "Mr. SMILLIE has few hobbies." At +the same time there is no doubt he is busy getting together a fine +collection of strikes. + +* * * + +It is said that AMUNDSEN will not return to civilisation this year. If he +was thinking of Ireland he isn't missing any civilisation worth mentioning. + +* * * + +"The POET LAUREATE," says a weekly paper, "has not written an ode to +British weather." So that can't be the cause of it. + +* * * + +A Wolverhampton man weighing seventeen stone, in charging another with +assault, said he heard somebody laughing at him, so he looked round. A man +of that weight naturally would. + +* * * + +"There is work for everybody who likes to work," says Mr. N. GRATTAN DOYLE, +M.P. It is this tactless way of rubbing it in which annoys so many people. + +* * * + +A contemporary has a letter from a correspondent who signs himself "Tube +Traveller of Twenty Years' Standing." Somebody ought to offer the poor +fellow a seat. + +* * * + +In connection with the case of a missing railway-porter one railway line +has decided to issue notices warning travellers against touching porters +while they are in motion. + +* * * + +"The United States," declares the proprietor of a leading New York hotel, +"is on the eve of going wet again." A subtle move of this kind, with the +object of depriving drink of its present popularity, is said to be making a +strong appeal to the Prohibitionists. + +* * * + +One London firm is advertising thirty thousand alarum-clocks for sale at +reduced prices. There is now no excuse for any workman being late at a +strike. + +* * * + +A centenarian in the Shetlands, says a news agency, has never heard of Mr. +LLOYD GEORGE. We have no wish to brag, but we have often seen his name +mentioned. + +* * * + +Professor PETRIE'S statement that the world will only last another two +hundred thousand years is a sorry blow to those who thought that _Chu Chin +Chow_ was in for a long run. Otherwise the news has been received quietly. + +* * * + +"Nothing useful is ever done in the House of Commons," says a Labour +speaker. He forgets that the cleaners are at work in the building just now. + +* * * + +We are informed that at the Bricklaying contest at the Olympic Games a +British bricklayer lost easily. + +* * * + +"A dress designer," says a Camomile Street dressmaker in _The Evening +News_, "must be born." We always think this is an advantage. + +* * * + +A gossip-writer points out that Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL'S earliest ambition +was to be an actor. Our contemporary is wise not to disclose the name of +the man who talked him out of it. + +* * * + +"Whatever price is fixed it is impossible to get stone in any quantity," +says a building trade journal. They have evidently not heard of our +coal-dealer. + +* * * + +"Nothing of any value has been gained by the War," complains a daily paper. +This slur on the O.B.E. is in shocking taste. + +* * * + +A Sunday newspaper deplores that there seems to be no means of checking the +crime-wave which is still spreading throughout the country. If only the +Government would publish the amount of American bacon recently purchased by +the Prisons' Department things might tend to improve. + +* * * + +"There is still a great shortage of gold in the country," announces a +weekly paper. It certainly seems as if our profiteers will soon have to be +content with having their teeth stopped with bank-notes. + +* * * + +We regret to learn that the amateur gardener whose marrows were awarded the +second prize for cooking-apples at a horticultural show is still confined +to his bed. + +* * * + +A neck-ruffle originally worn by QUEEN ELIZABETH has been stolen from a +house in Manchester and has not yet been recovered. Any reader noticing a +suspicious-looking person wearing such an article over her _décolleté_ +should immediately communicate with the nearest police-station. + +* * * + +Hair tonic, declares the Washington Chief of Police, is growing in +popularity as a beverage. The danger of this habit has been widely +advertised by the sad case of a Chicago man who drank three shampoo +cocktails and afterwards swallowed a hair in his soup. + +* * * + +The mystery of the City gentleman who has been noticed lately going up to +public telephones and getting immediate answers is now solved. It appears +that he is a well-known ventriloquist with a weakness for practical jokes. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "I NEVER ORDERED IT--AND I WON'T PAY FOR IT."] + + * * * * * + + "According to the latest census returns, the population of New York + City is now £5,621,000."--_Indian Paper._ + +In dollars, of course, it would be considerably more. + + * * * * * + + "The Royal Dutch Mail steamer Stuyvesant will leave on Monday at 5 a.m. + for Havre and Amsterdam. The tender leaves the Lighthouse Jetty at 8 + a.m. punctually with passengers."--_West Indian Paper._ + +Rather a mean trick to play on them. + + * * * * * + + "The Chairman said the Council had never paid one penny for the oiling + and washing of the fire brigade."--_Local Paper._ + +It is understood that while the noble fellows do not object to washing at +reasonable intervals, they strongly deprecate oiling as unnecessarily +adding to the risks of their dangerous calling. + + * * * * * + +MR. SMILLIE'S LITTLE ARMAGEDDON. + + Shall she, the England unafraid, + That came by steady courage through + The toughest war was ever made + And wiped the earth with WILLIAM TWO + (Who, though it strikes us now as odd, + Was, in his way, a sort of little god)-- + + Shall she that stood serene and firm, + Sure of her will to stay and win, + Cry "Comrade!" on her knees and squirm + To lesser gods of cheaper tin, + Spreading herself, a _corpus vile_, + Under the prancing heels of Mr. SMILLIE? + + Humour forbids! And even they + Who toil beneath the so-called sun, + Yet often in an eight-hours' day + Indulge a quiet sense of fun-- + These too can see, however dim, + The joke of starving just for SMILLIE'S whim. + + And here I note what looks to be + A rent in Labour's sacred fane; + The priestly oracles disagree, + And, when a house is split in twain, + Ruin occurs--ay! there's the rub + Alike for Labour and Beelzebub. + + And anyhow I hope that, where + At red of dawn on Rigi's height + He jodels to the astonished air, + LLOYD GEORGE is bent on sitting tight; + Nor, as he did in THOMAS' case, + Nurses a scheme for saving SMILLIE'S face. + + Why should his face be saved? indeed, + Why should he have a face at all? + But, if he _must_ have one to feed + And smell with, let the man install + A better kind, and thank his luck + That _all_ his headpiece hasn't come unstuck. + + O.S. + + * * * * * + +A WHIFF OF THE BRINY. + +As I entered the D.E.F. Company's depôt, Melancholy marked me for her own. +Business reasons--not my own but the more cogent business reasons of an +upperling--had just postponed my summer holiday; postponed it with a lofty +vagueness to "possibly November. We might be able to let you go by then, my +boy." November! What would Shrimpton-on-Sea be like even at the beginning +of November? Lovely sea-bathing, delicious boating, enchanting picnics on +the sand? I didn't think. Melancholy tatooed me all over with anchors and +pierced hearts, to show that I was her very own, not to be taken away. + +I clasped my head in my hands and gazed in dumb agony at the menu card. A +kind waitress listened with one ear. + +"Poached egg and bacon--two rashers," I murmured. + +While I waited I crooned softly to myself:-- + + "Poor disappointed Georgie. Life seems so terribly sad. + All the bacon and eggs in the world, dear, won't make you a happy lad." + +When the dish was brought I eyed it sadly. Sadly I raised a mouthful of +bacon to my lips.... + +Swish!!! The exclamation-marks signify the suddenness with which the train +swept into the station. I leapt down on to the platform and drew a long +breath. The sea! In huge whiffs the ozone rolled into my nostrils. I +gurgled with delight. Everything smelt of the dear old briny: the little +boys running about with spades and pails; the great basketsful of fish; the +blue jerseys of the red-faced men who, at rare intervals, toiled upon the +deep. At the far end of the platform I saw the reddest face of all, that of +my dear old landlord. I rushed to meet him.... + +Ah me, ah me! The incrusted-papered walls of the depôt girt me in again. I +took another mouthful of bacon--a larger one.... + +Bang! Someone was thumping on the door of my bathing-machine. What a +glorious scent of salt rose from the sea-washed floor! "Are you coming +out?" asked a persuasive voice. "No, no, no!" I shouted joyously. "I am +going in." What a dive! I never knew before how superlatively graceful my +dives could be. Away through the breakers with a racing stroke. Over on my +back, kicking fountains at the sun. In this warm water I should stay in for +hours and hours and.... + +Pah! That horrible incrusted paper back again! I bolted the remaining +rasher.... + +The boat rocked gently in a glassy sea. They were almost climbing over the +gunwale in their eagerness to be caught. Lovely wet shining wriggly +fellows; all the varieties of the fishmonger's slab and more. In season or +out, they didn't care; they thought only of doing honour to my line. No +need in future for me to envy the little boys on the river-bank who pulled +in fish after fish when I never got a bite. How delightfully salt the fish +smelt! And the sun drew out the scent of salt from the gently lapping +waves. It was all so quiet and restful. Almost could I have slumbered, even +as I pulled them in and in and.... + +The waitress must have giggled. Once again the incrusted paper leered at me +in ail its horrible pink incrustiness. There was no bacon left on my plate. +But the delicious scent of salt still lingered. Alas, my holiday was over! +I must speed me or I should miss the train to town. + +"Good-bye!" I shouted to the manageress and shook her by the hand. She +seemed surprised. "Such a happy time," I assured her. "I wish I could have +it all over again." + +She said something which I could not hear. Sea-bathing tends to make me a +little deaf. + +"If I have forgotten anything--my pyjamas or my shaving strop--would you be +so kind as to send them on? Good-bye again." + +Something fluttered to the floor. The manageress stooped. I was just +passing through the portals. + +"You have forgotten this," she called. + +It was the dear little square piece of paper which contained my bill. I +looked at it in amazement. + +"What!" I exclaimed--"only one-and-twopence for a poached egg and bacon and +all that salt flavour thrown in?" + + * * * * * + +OUR MODEST ADVERTISERS. + + "European lady (widow), rather lovely, would like to hear from Army + Officer or Civilian in a similar position, with a view to keeping up a + congenial correspondence."--_Indian Paper._ + + * * * * * + + "A correspondent in the Air Force writes from Bangalore:-- + + 'It is rather amusing to notice the number of people in the English + community who have never before seen an aeroplane coming up to the + aerodrome and gazing in wonder at the old buses.'"--_Evening Standard._ + +Even in England this spectacle is still the object of remark. + + * * * * * + + "We really feel inclined to parody Kipling and say-- + + 'One hand stuck in your dress shirt from to show heart is cline, + The other held behind your back, to signal, tax again.'" + +_Singapore Free Press._ + +We can only hope our esteemed contemporary will not feel this way again. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE ROAD TO RUIN. + +LABOUR. "WHAT'S YOUR GAME?" + +MR. SMILLIE. "I'M OUT FOR NATIONALISATION." + +LABOUR. "AH! AND YOU'RE GOING TO BEGIN BY NATIONALISING STARVATION?"] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Mrs. Smithson-Jones_ (_to her husband, who WILL garden in +his pyjamas before breakfast_). "_DO_ COME IN, ADOLPHUS; YOU'RE DELAYING +THE HARVEST."] + + * * * * * + +THE ART OF POETRY. + +IV. + +Good morning, gentlemen. Before I pass to the subject of my lecture today I +must deal briefly with a personal matter of some delicacy. Since I began +this series of lectures on the Art of Poetry I notice that the new +Professor of Poetry at Oxford, Mr. W.P. KER, in what I think is +questionable taste, has delivered an inaugural lecture on the _same_ +subject under the _same_ title. On the question of good taste I do not wish +to say much, except that I should have thought that any colleague of mine, +even an entirely new Professor in a provincial university, would have +recognised the propriety of at least communicating to me his intention +before committing this monstrous plagiarism. + +However, as I say, on that aspect of the matter I do not propose to dwell, +though it does seem to me that decency imposes certain limits to that kind +of academic piracy, and that those limits the Professor has overstepped. In +these fermenting days of licence and indiscipline persons in responsible +positions at our seats of learning have a great burden of example to bear +before the world, and if it were to go forth that actions of this type may +be taken with impunity by highly-paid Professors then indeed we are not far +from Bimetallism and the breaking-up of laws. + +Now let us glance for a moment at the substance of the lecture. I should +have been glad if Professor KER had had the courtesy to show it to me +before it was delivered, instead of my having to wait till it was printed +and buy it in a shop, because I might have induced him to repair the more +serious errors and omissions in his work. For really, when you come to +analyse the lecture, what thin and bodyless stuff it is. Let me at once pay +tribute to my colleague's scholarship and learning, to the variety of his +citations. But, after all, anyone can buy a Quotation Dictionary and quote +bits out of SWINBURNE. That surely--(see FREIDRICH'S _Crime and Quotation_, +pp. 246-9)--is not the whole task of a Professor of Poetry. + +Such a man, if he is to earn his pay, must be able-- + +(_a_) to show how poetry is written; + +(_b_) to write poetry; + +and it is no good his attempting (_a_) in the absence of (_b_). It is no +good teaching a man to slope arms if you are unable to slope arms yourself, +because a moment will come when he says, "Well, how the dickens _do_ you +slope them?" It is no good professing lawn-tennis and saying, "Top-spin is +imparted by drawing the racquet up and over," and so on, if, when you try +to impart top-spin yourself, the ball disappears on to the District +Railway. Still less is it useful if you deliver a long address to the +student, saying, "H.L. DOHERTY was a good player, and so was RENSHAW, and I +well remember the game between MCLOUGHLIN and WILDING, because WILDING hit +the ball over the net more often than MCLOUGHLIN did." + +Those students who have attended my lectures more regularly than others-- +and I am sorry there are not more of them--will do me the justice to +remember that I have put forward no theory of writing which I was not +prepared to illustrate in practice from my own work. My colleague, so far +as I can discover, makes one single attempt at practical assistance; and +even that is a minor plagiarism from one of my own lectures. He makes a +good deal of play with what he calls the principle and influence of the +Italian Canzone, which simply means having a lot of ten-syllable lines and +a few six-syllable ones. Students will remember that in our second lecture +we wrote a poem on that principle, which finished:-- + + Toroodle--umti--oodle--umti--knife (or strife) + Where have they put my hat? + +That lecture was prepared on May 27th; my colleague's lecture was delivered +on June 5th. It is clear to me that in the interval--by what discreditable +means I know not--he obtained access to my manuscript and borrowed the +idea, thinking to cloak his guilt by specious talk about the Italian +_Canzone_. The device of offering stolen goods under a new name is an old +one, and will help him little; the jury will know what to think. + +Apart from this single piece of (second-hand) instruction, what +contribution does he make to the student's knowledge of the Art of Poetry? +He makes no reference to comic poetry at all; apparently he has never +_heard_ of the Limerick, and I have the gravest doubts whether he can write +one, though that, I admit, is a severe test. I am prepared however to give +him a public opportunity of establishing his fitness for his post, and with +that end I propose to put to him the following problems, and if his answers +are satisfactory I shall most willingly modify my criticisms; but he must +write on one side of the paper only and number his pages in the top +right-hand corner. + +_The Problems._ + +(1) What is the metre of:-- + + "And the other grasshopper jumped right over the other grasshopper's + back." + +(2) Finish the uncompleted Limerick given in my Second Lecture, beginning: + + There was a young man who said "_Hell!_ + I don't think I feel very well." + +(3) In your inaugural lecture you ask, "Is it true, or not, that the great +triumphs of poetical art often come suddenly?" The answer you give is most +unsatisfactory; give a better one now, illustrating the answer from your +own works. + +(4) Write a Ballade of which the refrain is either-- + + (_a_) The situation is extremely grave; + or + (_b_) The Empire is not what it was; + or + (_c_) We lived to see Lord Birkenhead. + +NOTE.--Extra marks will be given for an attempt at (_b_) because of the +shortage of rhymes to _was_. + +(5) What would you do in the following circumstances? In May you have sent +a poem to an Editor, ending with the lines-- + + The soldiers cheered and cheered again-- + It was the PRINCE OF WALES. + +On July 20th the Editor writes and says that he likes the poem very much, +and wishes to print it in his August number, but would be glad if you could +make the poem refer to Mr. or Mrs. DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS instead of the PRINCE. +He must have the proof by the first post to-morrow as he is going to press. +Show, how you would reconstruct your last verse. + +(6) Consider the following passages-- + + (i) I love little pussy, + Her coat is so _warm_, + And if I don't hurt her + She'll do me no _harm_. + + (ii) Who put her _in_? + Little Tommy _Green_. + +(_a_) Carefully amend the above so that they rhyme properly. + +(_b_) Do you as a matter of principle approve of these kinds of rhyme? + +(_c_) If not, do you approve of them in (i) SHAKSPEARE, (ii) WORDSWORTH, +(iii) SHELLEY, (iv) Any serious classic? + +A.P.H. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Customer._ "AND I HAD ONE OF THOSE LITTLE ROUND BUN +ARRANGEMENTS." + +_Waitress._ "THAT'LL BE ANOTHER TUPPENCE." + +_Customer._ "ONE OF THOSE THAT ARE HOLLOW, YOU KNOW." + +_Waitress._ "OH--ONE OF _THEM_. THAT'LL BE FOURPENCE."] + + * * * * * + + "Four Volumes 'The Great World War,' pre-war price Rs. 40. What offers? + Perfect."--_Indian Paper._ + +A clear case of propheteering. + + * * * * * + +From an Irish Labour manifesto:-- + + "Impulsive cats, howsoever justifiable, may prove to be unwise."-- + _Irish Paper._ + +Remember what happened at Kilkenny. + + * * * * * + +THE PRIVILEGES OF MARGOTISM. + + [Something was said in _Punch_ last week about the advantage to the + reminiscencer of being his (or her) own JOHNSON and BOSWELL too. Mrs. + ASQUITH'S recent adventures with the descendants of some of her late + friends, of whose fair fame they are not less jealous than she, suggest + certain of the pitfalls incident to this double _rôle_, particularly + when the autobiographer is remote from his (or her) journals. Since + however an inaccuracy always has a day's start and is never completely + overtaken, while in course of time the pursuit ceases altogether, the + greatest danger is not immediate but for the future. Let us imagine a + case.] + +FROM "THE MARGOTIST'S REMINISCENCES." + +By the Author of _Statesmen I Have Influenced_; _My Wonderful Life_; _The +Souls' Awakener_; _The Elusive Diary_, _etc., etc._ + +One of my dearest friends in the early nineteen hundreds was Mr. Sadrock. I +have known eleven Prime Ministers in my time and have assurances from all, +signed and witnessed, that but for me and my vivacious encouragement they +would never have pulled through; but with none was I on terms of such close +communion as with Mr. Sadrock, who not only asked my advice on every +occasion of importance, but spent many of his waking hours in finding +rhymes to my name. Some of his four-lined couplets in my honour could not +be either wittier or more charming as compliments. + +He often averred that no one could amuse him as I did. He laughed once for +half-an-hour on end when I said, "It takes a Liberal to be a Tory;" and on +another occasion when I said, "The essence of Home Rule is, like charity, +that it begins abroad." Nothing but the circumstance that he was already +happily married prevented him from proposing to me. + +Mr. Sadrock is now to many people only a name; but in his day he was a +force to compare with which we have at this moment only one statesman and +he is temporarily out of office. + +The odd thing is that if the ordinary person were to be asked what Mr. +Sadrock was famous for, he would probably reply, For his devotion to HOMER +and the Established Church. But the joke is that when I was with him in +1902 he was frivolous on both these subjects. It was, I remember, in the +private room at the House of Commons set apart for Prime Ministers, to +which, being notoriously so socially couth, I always had a private key--the +only one ever given to a woman--and he was more than usually delightful. + +This is what was said:-- + +_MR. SADROCK_ (_mixing himself an egg nogg_). Will you join me? + +_MYSELF._ No, thank you. But I like to see you applying yourself to +Subsidiary Studies to the Art of Butler. + +_MR. SADROCK_ (_roaring with laughter_). That's very good. Some day you +must put your best things into a book. + +_MYSELF._ You bet. + +_MR. SADROCK._ I wonder why it is that you make me so frank. It is your +wonderful sympathetic understanding, I suppose. I long to tell you +something now. + +_MYSELF_ (_affecting not to care_). Do. I am secrecy itself. + +_MR. SADROCK._ Would it surprise you to know that I am privily a Dissenter? +Do you know that I often steal away in a false beard to attend the services +of Hard-Shell Baptists and Plymouth Brethren? + +_MYSELF._ I hope I am no longer capable of feeling anything so _démodé_ as +surprise. + +_MR. SADROCK._ And that I prefer _Robert Elsmere_ to the _Iliad_? + +_MYSELF._ May I print those declarations in my book? + +_MR. SADROCK._ Some day, yes, but not yet, not yet. + + * * * * * + +MR. SADROCK AND NONCONFORMITY. _To the Editor of_ "_The Monday Times_." + +SIR,--I find it necessary, in the interests of truth and of respect for the +memory of my uncle, Mr. Sadrock, to contest the accuracy of the Margotist's +report of conversations with him in 1902. To begin with, my uncle died in +1898, four years before the alleged interview. She could therefore not have +talked with him in 1902; and the _locale_ of this meeting, the Prime +Minister's room, becomes peculiarly fantastic. Secondly, no member of his +family--and they saw him constantly--ever heard him utter anything +resembling the sentiments which the Margotist attributes to him. Mr. +Sadrock was both an undeviating Churchman and a devotee of HOMER to the end +of his life. + +I am, etc., THEOPHILUS SADROCK. + +THE MARGOTIST'S REPLY. + +SIR,--I have read Mr. Theophilus Sadrock's letter and am surprised by its +tone. If Mr. Sadrock did not make use of the words that I attribute to him +how could I have set them down? Because I was writing unobserved all the +time he was talking, and I could produce the notes if they were, to others, +legible enough for it to be worth while; surreptitious writing must +necessarily be indistinct at times. As for the question of time and place, +that is a mere quibble. Mr. Sadrock was alive when we had our talk, and I +am sorry if I have misdated it. The talk remains. May I add that it is very +astonishing to me to find people with the effrontery to suggest that they +knew their illustrious relatives better than strangers could. Everyone is +aware that the last place to go to for evidence as to a man is to his kith +and kin. When my book appears there will be a few corrections; but in the +main I stand by the motto which I invented for Chamberlain one evening: +"What I have written I have written." + +I am, Yours, etc., + +THE MARGOTIST. + +_The Woop._ + + * * * * * + +FROM "SADROCK: A DEFINITIVE BIOGRAPHY." + +_Published in 1940._ + +Before leaving our consideration of Sadrock's Homeric studies it is however +necessary to point out that late in life he made a very curious +recantation. In a book of memoirs, published in 1920, by one who was in a +position to acquire special information, it is stated in his own words that +Sadrock preferred _Robert Elsmere_ to the _Iliad_; while during the same +conversation he confessed to a passion for the services of Dissenters, +which, he said, he often frequented _incognito_. No biographer can +disregard such admissions, and we must revise our opinion of the great +statesman accordingly. + +E.V.L. + + * * * * * + + "SALE, Gent's Evening Suit, Tennis Trousers, Sweater, Black Silk Coat + suit elderly lady."--_Irish Paper._ + +The revolutionary movement in Ireland seems to have reached even the +fashions. + + * * * * * + + "LONDON, JULY 16. + + It is reported on reliable authority that General Wrangel has refused + to withdraw to the Cinema in compliance with the terms of the proposed + armistice.--_Statesman_ (_Calcutta_). + +It is believed that "MARY" and "DOUG." were greatly relieved to be rid of +so dangerous a rival. + + * * * * * + + "When is the demoralisation at some of our great London hotels to give + place to reasonable service and cleanliness? On every side I hear + complaints of inefficient attendance and dirty rooms. As for clean + towels in the bathroom, they appear on the Ides of March."--_Sunday + Paper._ + +At one hotel, we understand, they failed to remember the Ides of March and +are now waiting for the Greek Kalends. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE "DO-IT-YOURSELF" AGE. + +FATHER'S HOME-MADE SWEATER.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OUR SPORTING PURISTS. + +_Urchin._ "COME AN' PLAY CRICKET, ALF." + +_Alf._ "WOT! IN THE FOOTBALL SEASON?"] + + * * * * * + +THE REVOLT OF YOUTH. + +We publish a few selected letters from the mass of correspondence which has +reached us in connection with the controversy initiated by "A Bewildered +Parent" in _The Morning Post_: + +A LEGUMINOUS LAUDATION. + +SIR,--I confess I cannot share the anxiety of the "Bewildered Parent" who +complains of the child of two and a half years who addressed her learned +parent as "Old bean." As a convinced Montessorian I recognise in the +appellation a gratifying evidence of that self-expression which cannot +begin too young. Moreover there is nothing derogatory in the phrase; on the +contrary I am assured on the best authority that it is a term of endearment +rather than reproach. But, above all, as a Vegetarian I welcome the choice +of the term as an indication of the growth of the revolt against +carnivorous brutality. If the child in question had called her parent a +"saucy kipper" or "a silly old sausage" there would have been reasonable +ground for resentment. But comparison with a bean involves no obloquy, but +rather panegyric. The bean is one of the noblest of vegetables and is +exceptionally rich in calories, protein, casein, carbo-hydrates, thymol, +hexamyl, piperazine, salicylic dioxide, and permanganate of popocatapetl. +This a learned parent, if his learning was real, ought to have recognised +at once, instead of foolishly exploiting a fancied grievance. + +Yours farinaceously, + +JOSIAH VEDGELEY. + +THE OLD COMPLAINT. + +SIR,--Some sixty years ago I was rebuked by my father for addressing him as +"Governor." Thirty years later I was seriously offended with my own son for +calling me an "old mug." He in turn, though not by any means a learned man, +has within the last few weeks been irritated by his school-boy son +derisively addressing him as an "old dud." The duel between fathers and +sons is as old as the everlasting hills, and the rebels of one generation +become the fogeys of the next. I have no doubt that in moments of expansion +the young Marcellus alluded to his august parent as "_faba antiqua_." + +Yours faithfully, + +SENEX. + +A TRIPLE LIFE. + +SIR,--As a middle-aged mother I do not appeal for your sympathy, I merely +wish to describe my position, the difficulties of which might no doubt be +paralleled in hundreds of other households. I have three children whose +characteristics may be thus briefly summarised:-- + +(1) Pamela, aged nineteen, is an ultra-modern young woman. She hates +politics of all shades, but adores SCRIABINE, STRAVINSKY and BENEDETTO +CROCE. She smokes cigars, wears male attire and has a perfect command of +the art of ornamental objurgation. + +(2) Gerald, aged twenty-three, is war-weary; resentful of all authority; +"bored stiff" by any music save of the syncopated brand, and he divides his +time between Jazz-dancing with the dismal fervour of a gloomy dean and +attending meetings of pro-Bolshevist extremists. + +(3) Anthony, aged twenty-six, is a soldier, a "regular"; restrained in +speech, somewhat old-fashioned in his tastes. This summer he spent his +leave fishing in Scotland and took with him two books--the _Life of +Stonewall Jackson_ and the _Bible_. It is hardly necessary to add that +Gerald is not on speaking terms with him. + +As for myself, while anxious to keep in touch with my wayward brood, I find +the strain of accommodating myself to their varied requirements almost more +than I can stand. Pamela can only endure my companionship on the conditions +that I smoke (which makes me ill); that I emulate the excesses of her lurid +lingo (which makes me squirm), and that I paint my face (which makes me +look like a modern Messalina, which I am not). Gerald is prepared to accept +me as a "pal," provided that I play David to his Saul by regaling him on +Sunday mornings with negroid melodies, which he punctuates with snorts on +the trombone. If he knew that I went to early morning service all would be +at an end between us. Finally, Anthony wants me to remain as I was and +really am. So you see that I have to lead not a dual but a triple life, and +am only spared the necessity of making it quadruple by the fact that my +husband is fortunately dead. As Pamela gracefully remarked the other day, +"It was a good thing for poor father that he went West to sing bass in the +heavenly choir before we grew up." In conclusion I ought to admit that my +future is not without prospects of alleviation. Pamela has just announced +her engagement to an archdeacon of pronounced Evangelical views; Gerald is +meditating a prolonged tour in New Guinea with a Bolshevist mission; +Anthony contemplates neither matrimony nor expatriation. + +I am, Sir, Yours respectfully, + +A MIDDLE-AGED MOTHER. + +THE CRY OF THE CHILD AUTHOR. + +SIR,--As a novelist and dramatist whose work has met with high encomiums +from Mr. J.L. GARVIN, Mr. C.K. SHORTER, Mr. JAMES DOUGLAS and Lord HOWARD +DE WALDEN, I wish to impress upon you and your readers the hardships and +restrictions which the tyranny of parental control still imposes on +juvenile genius. Though I recently celebrated my seventh birthday, my +father and mother have firmly refused to provide me with either a latch-key +or a motor-bicycle. Owing to the lack of proper accommodation in my nursery +my literary labours are carried on under the greatest difficulties and +hampered by constant interruptions from my nurse, a vulgar woman with a +limited vocabulary and no aspirates. I say nothing, though I might say +much, of the jealousy of adult authors, the pusillanimity of unenterprising +publishers, the senile indifference of Parliament. But I warn them that, +unless the just claims of youth to economic and intellectual independence +are speedily acknowledged, the children of England will enforce them by +direct action of the most ruthless kind. The brain that rules the cradle +rocks the world. + +Yours indignantly, + +PANSY BASHFORD. + +A DOGGEREL SUMMARY. + +SIR,--I have followed the _Youth_ v. _Age_ controversy with interest and +venture to sum up its progress so far in ten of the worst lines in the +world:-- + + There was an old don so engrossed + In maintaining his rule of the roast + That he made quite a scene + When addressed as "Old bean," + And wrote to complain in _The Post_. + + Whereupon the disciples of WELLS + Emitted a chorus of yells, + And they fell upon Age + With unfilial rage + And gave it all manner of hells. + +I am, Sir, Yours, + +GALLIO JUNIOR. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Meanest Member_ (_seeking free advice, after driving out of +bounds, from professional who is giving a lesson to another player_). +"FUNNY THING, BUT EVERY TIME I DRIVE THIS MORNING I SLICE LIKE THAT. WHAT +DO YOU THINK IS THE CAUSE?" + +_Professional_ (_after deep thought_). "WELL, SIR, MEBBE YE'RE NO' HITTIN' +'EM RIGHT."] + + * * * * * + +"SWITZERLAND AGAIN. + + Fine weather has resigned with only brief interruptions since the + season began."--_Times._ + +Just as in England. + + * * * * * + + "Alice ----, a married woman, was charged with unlawfully wounding her + husband, Charles ----, a labourer, by striking him with a pair of + tongues."--_Local Paper._ + +CHARLES has our sympathy. He might just as well have been a bigamist. + + * * * * * + +WESTWARD HO! + + James, if from life's little worries and trouble you + Sigh to be wafted afar, + Meet me at Paddington Station, G.W. + R. + + Thence, if our plans be not baulked by some latterday + Railwayman-unionist freak, + We'll make a bold bid for freedom on Saturday + Week. + + Care may ride pillion or on the ship's deck set her + Foot, but she'll hunt us in vain + Once we've set ours on the ten-thirty Exeter + Train. + + Ours no "resort" where you run up iniquitous + Bills at the "Royal" or "Grand," + Blatant with pier and parade and ubiquitous + Band. + + No "silver sea" where the gaudy and giddy come; + We're for a peacefuller air + Breathing of _Uncle Tom Cobley_ and Widdicombe + Fair. + + Warm as a welcome the red of the tillage is, + Green are the pastures, and deep + Down in the combes little thatch-covered villages + Sleep. + + Far from society (praises to Allah be!), + Wearing demobilised boots, + Clad in our countrified (Deeley-cum-Mallaby) + Suits, + + We'll o'er the moor where the ways never weary us, + Lunch at a primitive pub, + Loaf till it's time to get back to more serious + Grub. + + Haply some neighbouring Dartymoor brooklet'll + Tempt us at eve to set out, + Greenheart in hand, and endeavour to hook little + Trout. + + Well, there's a programme for three weeks of heaven, sheer + Bliss, if you add to the scheme + Farm eggs and bacon and junket and Devonshire + Cream. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Customer._ "I SAY--DO YOU EVER PLAY ANYTHING BY REQUEST?" + +_Delighted Musician._ "CERTAINLY, SIR." + +_Customer._ "THEN I WONDER IF YOU'D BE SO GOOD AS TO PLAY A GAME OF +DOMINOES UNTIL I'VE FINISHED MY LUNCH!"] + + * * * * * + +SAND SPORTS. + +Two or three hundred yards behind the sandhills, which seem to be deserted +but are really full of sudden hollows, with embarrassing little bathing +tents in them, the village sports have just been held. They took place in a +sloping grass field kindly lent for the occasion by Mr. Bates. This means +that you paid a shilling to enter the field, whereas on other days you can +picnic in it or play cricket in it without paying anything at all. Mr. +Bates is a kind of absentee landlord so far as we are concerned, for he is +the butcher at Framford, four miles away, and only brings the proceeds of +his butchery to us on Tuesdays and Fridays, which is the reason why on +Mondays and Thursdays one usually has eggs and bacon for dinner. + +It was an interesting afternoon for many reasons, most of all perhaps +because many of the visitors saw each other for the first time in +clothes--in land clothes, I mean--and it is wonderful how much smarter some +of them looked than when popping red or brown faces, with lank wisps of +hair on them, out of the brine. + +Some of the athletic events were open, like the Atlantic Sea, and some +close, like the Conferences at Lympne, but very few of the visitors +competed in any of them. I don't think any of us fancied our chances +overmuch, but personally I was a little bitter about the three-mile bicycle +race, because there were three prizes and only three competitors. I am past +my prime at this particular sport, but as it happened one of the three +broke his gear-chain somewhere about the seventh lap, and it was a long +time before he mended it and rode triumphantly past the finishing flag. I +felt then that I had missed what was probably my first and last chance of +securing an Olympic palm. + +The whole affair struck me as being very well managed; dull events, like +the high jump and putting the shot, being held quietly in a corner by the +hedge, whilst the really interesting things, like the sack race and the egg +and spoon race, went on in the middle. We used potatoes instead of eggs, +but whether there was a system of handicapping according to the weight and +age of the potatoes I was unable to determine. I do feel confident, +however, that that girl with the yellow hair and the striped skirt to whom +the first prize was quite incorrectly awarded by the judges had put some +treacle--But there, I will be magnanimous. + +The postman was a great success. He had acquired a light suit of overalls, +on which he had painted three large red stars, using, I hope, Government +red ink, and with black cheeks and a floured nose footed it solemnly to the +music of the Framford Comrades' Band. He also ran underneath the lath at +the high jump and tumbled down in trying to put the shot. All round the +field children could be heard asking, "What _is_ he doing, Mummy?" and, +when they were told, "Hush, dears, he's doing it for a _joke_," their eyes +danced and they tried for a moment to control their emotion and then broke +into shrieks of laughter. All the difficult open events which were not won +by a young man in puce-coloured shorts were won by a friend of his in a +yellow shirt. I have an idea that these two young men came from Framford +and go round doing this kind of thing and getting prizes for it, just as +Mr. Bates goes round selling his beef. + +Amidst all this fun and frolic, if you went up to the top of one of the +sandhills and looked across the blue bay to the little seaport opposite, +you saw that it was also emptied of its folk this pious afternoon and was +in fact holding aquatic revels. Little fishing-boats with brown sails were +turning about a given mark. There were rowing races and diving competitions +and a greasy pole and very probably a comic man dressed up as a buoy. + +I have pondered deeply over these twin feasts, and it has occurred to me +that, whilst land sports and water sports are both of them very good things +in their way, neither expresses the real genius of a maritime resort, and +also that we visitors, if we are too shy to enter with gusto into the local +games, ought to provide some suitable entertainment in return. I have +compiled therefore a programme of a Grand Beach Gala for next week, and +have had a notice put up in the post-office window inviting entries. Not +many people buy stamps at the post-office, but, as you get bacon and spades +and buckets and jam there, it is a pretty popular emporium, and I think my +list of events should prove an attractive one. It runs as follows:-- + +1. _Pebble and Tent Competition._--Fathers of families only. To be run if +possible at low tide on a wet and windy day. Competitors to leave starting +post in ordinary attire, enter tent, emerge in bathing costume, strike +tents, sprint over shingle to the sea, swim to a given point, return, pitch +tents, dress and run to winning-post. + +FIRST PRIZE, a ham sandwich, with real sand. + +2. _Sock Race._--Under ten. Competitors to start barefooted in rock-pools +and race at the sound of a dinner-bell to nurses, have feet dried, put on +shoes and stockings and run to row of buns at top of beach. First bun down +wins. Points deducted for sand in socks. + +3. _Hundred Yards Paddle Dash._--To be run along the edge of surf. Handicap +by position. Tallest competitor to have deepest station. Open to all ages +and sexes. Feet to be lifted clear of the water at every stride. Properly +raced this is a fine frothy event, productive of the greatest enthusiasm, +especially if the trousers come unrolled. + +4. _Sand Castle Contest._--Open to all families of eight. Twenty minutes +time limit. Largest castle wins. Moats must contain real sea-water. + +5. _Impromptu Picnic._--Ladies only. Materials must be collected from the +village shops, brought down to beach and spread out at winning flag. For +the purpose of this competition the sports must take place on a Thursday, +when the weekly visit of the greengrocer coincides with one of the +bi-weekly visits of the baker from Framford. Eggs and butter must be +obtained at the Mill Farm, and you can do the rest at the post-office. + +6. _Fifty Yards Hat Race._--Under five. Fathers to be seated in a row on +beach. Competitors to remove fathers' hats, run twenty-five yards, fill +hats with sand, return and replace hats. + +In order to prevent any ill-feeling that might arise from the thought that +I had practised any of these races in private beforehand I have elected to +be the judge. + +EVOE. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A SESSION OF COMMON SENSE. + +ERIN. "I'VE GREAT HOPES OF THIS NEW DEVELOPMENT; BUT OF COURSE IT'S NOT AN +OFFICIAL CONFERENCE." + +PEACE. "WELL, TO JUDGE BY MY EXPERIENCE, IT'S NONE THE WORSE FOR THAT."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MODERN BUSINESS METHODS. + +_Patron._ "DIDN'T I GIVE YOU SOMETHING IN HIGH STREET THIS MORNING?" + +_Artist._ "YES, MUM. I'VE A BRANCH THERE."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "OH, MUMMY, WILL YOU GET THE TWOPENCE BACK?"] + + * * * * * + +THE ROOM AT THE BACK. + + [A story of the supernatural, which should not be read late at night by + persons of weak nerves.] + +Outwardly, "Chatholme" was as all the other villas in Dunmoral Avenue, +which were just detached enough to allow the butcher's boy to squeeze +himself and his basket--and perhaps the cook--between any two of them, and +differed from each other in nothing but names, numbers and window-curtains. + +And the interior of the house, when the Pottigrews took possession of it, +seemed equally commonplace. There is no need to show you all over it, but +if you intend to peruse this narrative, in spite of the warning above, it +is desirable that you should at least inspect the ground-floor. + +On one side of the hall, which was faintly illumined in the daytime by a +fanlight, was the drawing-room; on the other side was the dining-room, and +behind the dining-room was a smaller room with a French-window looking on +to the back-garden, which probably was described by the house-agents as the +"morning-room," but was by Mr. Pottigrew designated his "study." + +Prosaic enough, you will say. And yet there was that about the ground-floor +of "Chatholme" which was anything but matter-of-fact, as the Pottigrews +began to discover before they had been in residence many days. + +Mrs. Pottigrew was the first to "sense" something out of the ordinary. She +was of Manx origin, and therefore peculiarly sensitive to "influences;" one +of those uncomfortable people who cannot visit such places as Hampton Court +or the Tower without vibrating like harp-strings. + +Mr. Pottigrew, however, was of the duller fibre of which cyclists rather +than psychists are made; and when, on his return from the City one +afternoon, his wife tried to get him to appreciate a certain eeriness in +the atmosphere of the new home, he sniffed it dutifully, and declared that +he could detect nothing but a confounded smell of onions. + +"That's because they _won't_ remember to shut the kitchen door," Mrs. +Pottigrew explained. "But--" + +"Well, it can't be the drains, because they've just been tested," said Mr. +Pottigrew impatiently. And, like a stout materialist, he muttered, +"Imagination!" as he strolled away to the sanctuary of his study, little +guessing how his own imagination was about to be stimulated. + +(Look here--this is where the creepy business begins. If, on consideration, +you feel you'd rather read about cricket or politics or something, I'll +excuse you.) + +A little later, as Mrs. Pottigrew was crossing the hall, she was stopped +short by a strange, gasping choky sound which came from the study. There +followed the crash of a chair being overturned; the door opened and her +husband staggered out with scared eyes in a face as white as marble, and +beads of sweat on his brow. + +When a stiff brandy had restored the power of speech to Mr. Pottigrew, he +described the remarkable and alarming seizure he had just experienced. + +He had turned his arm-chair to the French-window, he said, with the +intention of enjoying a quiet smoke, and no sooner had he seated himself +and leaned back than an indescribable feeling of suffocation had crept upon +him, and at the same time he had been aware of a curious loss of control +over his jaws, so that he had been unable to prevent his mouth opening to +its widest extent. When he had tried to rise to his feet an invisible force +had seemed to be holding him down, and it was only by a tremendous effort +of will that he had managed to keep his senses and struggle to the door. + +He resolutely refused to see a doctor, but, deciding that the attack was a +warning that he had been overdoing it, he retired forthwith to bed. By the +morning he felt so well that he prescribed for himself a few quiet days by +the sea. And so he packed his bag and took himself off by an early train to +Brighton. + +That afternoon was marked by another disagreeable occurrence. After the way +of her kind, Mrs. Pottigrew's Aunt Charlotte was attracted by the idea of +using a room from which normally the female members of the household were +excluded. So she took her needlework into the study and prepared to spend a +quiet hour or so in the armchair facing the French-window. + +Hardly had she settled down when she too experienced the same feeling of +suffocation and the same involuntary opening of the jaws which Mr. +Pottigrew had described. She struggled against it, but, lacking the +will-power of her robust nephew-by-marriage, she was overcome by +unconsciousness. When she came to, a little dazed and faint, a few moments +later, she was dismayed to discover that her expensive dental-plate--a full +set--was lying on the floor, shattered beyond repair. + +Not being a person of vivid imagination, she attributed her transient +illness to intense sympathy with Mr. Pottigrew, and resigned herself to a +diet of slops until she could be furnished with new means of mastication. + +Next day, a Saturday, came the climax. Early in the evening an urgent +telegram summoned Mr. Pottigrew back from Brighton. Hastening home, he was +received by a wife distraught. + +"What did I tell you?" she wailed. "Send for Sir CONAN DOYLE. Poor dear +Aubrey! The doctor is upstairs with him." + +Mr. Pottigrew hurriedly ascended to the bedroom of his son and heir, a fine +healthy youth, just of an age to appreciate his father's cigars. (This, of +course, is a pre-Budget story.) + +The young fellow lying upon the bed smiled bravely as his father entered, +but Mr. Pottigrew was shocked to see that he smiled with toothless gums. A +grave professional-looking man rose from the bedside and beckoned Mr. +Pottigrew out of the room. + +"This extraordinary case, Sir," said the doctor as he closed the door +behind him, "is the outcome of causes quite beyond the present scope of the +medical profession. The sound, strong, firm teeth--a splendid set--of a +healthy young man do not jump out of his head of their own accord, every +one of them, for any natural reason." + +He paused and lowered his voice as he continued: "I am afraid, Mr. +Pottigrew, however reluctant we may be to admit the possibility, that there +is no doubt that you have taken a haunted house. The previous tenant was a +dentist--poor Mr. Acres. The room which is your study was his operating +room. _He died in that room while administering gas to himself preparatory +to extracting his own teeth._" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _North-Country Farmer_ (_to Profiteer fishing the Fell +becks_). "CAUGHT OWT?" + +_Profiteer._ "I'VE NOT ACTUALLY LANDED ANY, BUT THINK I HAD A RISE--UNLESS +IT WAS THE SPLASH FROM MY MINNOW."] + + * * * * * + +MRS. GAMP REDIVIVA. + + "Nurse; 39; experienced bottle fed; £40 to £50."--_Daily Paper._ + + * * * * * + +SPEEDING THE PARTING GUEST. + + "Oban is proving an attractive centre, for Lord ----, Lady ---- and + many others have departed thence during the last day or so."--_Daily + Paper._ + +We think it only kind to suppress the names. + + * * * * * + + "All new demands for capital, whether for private or public purposes, + had been met out of the sayings of the people."--_Daily Paper._ + +Mr. Punch may perhaps be permitted to mention that he has himself given +currency to a number of capital stories. + + * * * * * + + "It is to be hoped that, now that their unhappy country is in the + throes of the most ghastly terror of her history, the irreconcilable + elements in the Irish nation will see an all-compelling reason for + exercising the demon of strife.--_Indian Paper._ + +Unfortunately they seem to be doing so only too freely. + + * * * * * + +ANOTHER WAR TO END WAR. + + [An address to the League of Nations on learning that it is considering + a scheme to tackle the rat plague.] + + Not yours to lure the lands of Cross or Crescent + Back from Bellona where she bangs her drum, + Nor make this Hades, anyhow at present, + The New Elysium. + + For still the sword gleams mightier than the pen in + Europe, you'll notice, at the Bolshies' beck; + Confess now that the case of Mr. LENIN + Gets you right in the neck. + + So I have read with wondrous satisfaction, + Feeling in this your hands are far from tied, + That you propose to emulate the action + Of _Hamelin's Piper (Pied)_. + + And, though the task prove hard and ever harder, + From your crusade, I trust, you'll never cease + Till you've restored good-will to every larder + And to each pantry peace. + + Then, when the cocksure critic in his crudeness + Pops you the question while his back he pats, + "What have you done?" you'll find at last, thank goodness, + One ready answer--"Rats!" + + * * * * * + + "Puccinni's three one-act operas, erroneously described as a + typtich...."--_Evening Paper._ + +But what about the spelling of "Puccinni"? We fear our contemporary has, +after all, been caught triptyching. + + * * * * * + +HOW TO BUILD A HOUSE. + +The only way to build a house properly is to employ an architect to build +it for you. All the best houses are built by architects--any architect will +tell you that. But of course you will always be allowed to say that _you_ +built it, so it will come to the same thing. + +The walls of an architect's office are covered with drawings of enormous +public buildings which the architect has erected in every capital of +Europe. There are also a few of the statelier homes of England which he has +put up in his spare time. + +While you are waiting you compare these with your own scheme of the +six-roomed villa you propose to build. + +At last you are ushered into the presence and unless a stove-pipe +protruding from your waistcoat pocket suggests that you are travelling in +somebody's radiators you will probably be asked to sit down, and may even +be given a cigarette. There is no difficulty in opening your business. The +architect can see at a glance what you have come for and says quite simply, +"You want to build a house?" + +"I do," you reply. + +"How many reception rooms?" + +This rather staggers you. You had not intended to have any reception rooms +at all. You never give receptions. All you wanted was a dining-room and a +drawing-room, and a study with a round window over the fire-place. + +But it is evidently impossible to confide this to the architect. All you +can do is to reply as naturally as you can:-- + +"About half-a-dozen." + +"Eight reception rooms," says the architect. "And how many bedrooms?" + +"I don't really know; about one each." + +"Twenty bedrooms," suggests the architect (there are three in your family). +"And did you say a garage to hold two cars?" + +By this time you realise that you are engaged in a game something like +auction bridge and so far your opponent has done all the over-calling. + +"Double two cars!" you cry excitedly. + +"Five cars," rejoins the Architect. + +"Six cars!" + +"Garage to hold six cars," repeats the Architect, confessing defeat. "You +are, of course, aware that a house on this scale will cost you at least +twenty thousand pounds?" + +"Of course," you reply, and you honestly think it would be cheap at the +price. + +After this the only thing to do is to get away as quickly as possible. It +would be pure bathos to suggest any of your wife's labour-saving devices, +or introduce the subject of that circular bath-room with a circular bath +hanging by chains from the ceiling and a spirit-stove under it--your pet +invention. Recall a pressing engagement, shake the architect firmly by the +hand and promise to come and see him next Tuesday about details. In the +interval you can compose a letter at your leisure, informing him that in +view of the high cost of materials, etc., etc., you have decided to +postpone the building of your house, but you desire to build _at once_ a +gardener's cottage (so that the gardener can be getting the grounds into +order) containing one dining-room, one drawing-room, one study (with one +round window), three bedrooms, one circular bathroom (with one circular +bath) and one tool-shed to hold one tool. + +Even so you will probably have to make concessions. Your window will be +hexagonal and your bath square. But your worries are over. The architect +will choose a builder and between them they will build your house during +the next six years, which you will spend in lodgings. It is a long time to +wait, certainly, but you will find plenty of amusement in occasionally +counting the number of bricks that have been laid since last time. And then +in 1926, as you smoke your pipe in your study and gaze out of your +hexagonal window, you will not covet the Paradise of ADAM, the first +gardener. + + * * * * * + +RHYMES OF THE UNDERGROUND. + + Adolphus Minns resides at Kew + And does what people ought to do. + + In boarding trains his instincts are + To "let 'em first get off the car," + Then "hurry up" himself to enter, + And "pass along right down the centre." + + Though nigh his destination be + No selfish "door-obstructor" he: + Rather than bear such imputation + He'll travel on beyond his station. + + His unexceptionable ways + E'en liftmen have been known to praise-- + A folk censorious and, as such, + Not given to praising over-much. + + Small need have they to shout a grim + "No smoking in the lift" at him, + Or ask if he's the only one + For whom the lift is being run. + + Adolphus Minns, who lives at Kew, + Does all that people ought to do-- + Retires to bed before eleven, + Is up and shaved by half-past seven-- + And, when he dies, he'll go to Heaven. + + Perhaps he's gone; I've never met + His like at Kew or elsewhere yet. + + * * * * * + +THE DISSIMULATION OF SUZANNE. + +The telephone bell rang just as I was beginning breakfast. + +"What is your number, please?" asked an imperious voice. + +In an emergency I never can remember my own number. + +"Just hold on a minute while I look it up," I begged. Feverishly I turned +over the leaves of the telephone directory and, cutting with a blunt finger +the page containing the small advertisement that keeps my name before the +public eye, at last found and transmitted the desired information. + +"Don't go away," said the voice again, this time with a shade of weariness +in its tone. "Chesterminster wants you." + +I wasn't going away, because before Suzanne left me to visit her relatives +in Middleshire I had vowed that nothing would induce me to do so. But +Chesterminster wanted me. What should that portend? + +"Tell them," I declaimed into the mouthpiece while I instinctively posed +for the camera, "that I feel greatly honoured by their invitation and in +other circumstances I should have been delighted to come forward as their +Candidate. The Parliamentary history of Chesterminster constitutes one of +the most romantic chapters in the chronicles of England; but just now I am +busy writing verses for next week's _Back Chat_, so--" + +"If you will keep on talking to yourself you won't get connected," +interrupted the voice. "You're thr-r-rough, Chesterminster." + +"Are you Chelsea niner-seven-double-seven?" inquired a new voice, a little +more distant but not so haughty. + +"No, nine I mean niner-double-seven-seven," I replied. + +"Same thing," said the voice of Chesterminster. "Stokehampton wants you." + +"Tell them--" I began, but my oratory was drowned by a rapid succession of +small explosions, and out of this unholy crepitation emerged a still small +voice which said, "Is that you, darling?" Then I suddenly remembered that +Stokehampton is Suzanne's relatives' nearest town of call. + +"They want you to come tomorrow for the week-end," said Suzanne. "I lied to +them and said you were busy working, but they said you can have the library +to yourself whenever you want it, and spoke so nicely about you that I +couldn't refuse to ring you up. Besides, I want you to come, and the figs +and the mulberries are in splendid form." + +Suzanne knows that my idea of Heaven is a garden full of fig-trees and +mulberry-bushes at the appropriate season of the year. But it was raining +hard, and I abominate week-ends; and Suzanne's relatives are well-meaning +folk who always want to arrange your day for you. + +"No, Suzanne," I said, "emphatically, no. I can't think of a convincing +excuse at the moment, so you'd better say I'll be delighted to come. But +tomorrow morning you'll get a wire from me announcing that I'm sick of the +palsy--no, malaria, which they know I sometimes get--and that'll give you a +good ground for returning yourself tomorrow. Your three minutes is up. +Good-bye." + +With the inspiration still fresh upon me I wrote out the telegram and rang +for Evangeline. + +"Evangeline," I said, "I may possibly be detained in bed tomorrow morning. +In case that should happen"--she never betrayed even a flicker of the eye, +although she could, an she would, tell Suzanne some damning tales of late +rising during her absence--please send this telegram off before breakfast; +that is, before _your_ breakfast." + +Evangeline curtseyed and withdrew. I had spent my leisure moments during +the week teaching her the trick, as a surprise for Suzanne on her return. + +Next morning, as I lay in bed thinking out the subject of my next Message +to the Nation, I was gratified to notice that the rain had ceased and the +sun was shining genially. I thought of Suzanne and the refreshing fruit in +Suzanne's relatives' attractive gardens. Should I go after all? I rang the +bell. + +"Has that wire gone yet?" I asked. + +"Indeed I took it these two hours back," replied Evangeline. + +I looked at my watch and grunted. + +"Bring me a telegram-form," I commanded, "and some hotter hot water." + +So, having wired to Suzanne: "Malaria false alarm only passing effects of +overwork coming by the one-thirty PERCIVAL," I found myself at tea-time +being nursed back to health on mulberries-and-cream administered by the +solicitous hands of Aunt-by-acquisition Lucy. + +"Well," I said to Suzanne a little later as we strolled in the direction of +the fig-trees, "how did it go off--my first wire, I mean?" + +"Oh, I think I did it very well," she replied; "I gave a most realistic +exhibition of wifely concern, and the car had just come to take me to the +station when your second wire arrived." + +"Then they didn't spot anything?" + +"No," said Suzanne--"no, I don't think so." + +After dinner that night I was playing billiards with Toby, who is Suzanne's +aunt's nephew-by-marriage. We had the room to ourselves. + +"Dull part of the world this," he remarked. "By the way, what about that +malaria of yours?" + +"What about it?" I observed shortly. + +"Comes and goes rather suddenly, doesn't it?" + +"Very," I agreed. "It's one of the suddenest diseases ever invented." + +"'Invented' is a good word," said Toby. "You're a bit of an inventor, +aren't you?" + +"What do you mean? Are you venturing to imply--" + +"I imply nothing. I merely state that this morning Suzanne came down to +breakfast in her travelling-clothes. And that wasn't all." + +"Wasn't it?" I inquired weakly. "Tell me the worst." + +"All through breakfast," continued Toby with relish, "she was restless and +off her feed, and appeared to be listening for something. Afterwards +nothing could induce her to leave the house, and I myself caught her +surreptitiously studying the time-table. Every time a step was heard coming +up the drive she started to her feet. At last a telegraph-boy arrived. +Before anybody could discover whom the wire was addressed to, Suzanne +snatched it from the boy, tore it open, placed her hand in the region of +her heart and exclaimed, 'Oh, how provoking! Poor Percival's--' then she +turned it the right way up, looked unutterably foolish and meekly handed it +over to Aunt Lucy. It was from the old lady's stockbroker and referred to +some transaction or other in Housing Bonds." + +"And what did Aunt Lucy say?" I asked. + +"Oh, she just looked the least little bit surprised," replied Toby, "but +she didn't utter. Suzanne had to embrace the muddiest of all the cocker +pups to hide her flaming cheeks." + +"Well, what happened then?" + +"Then? Oh, then the telegraph-boy fished out another wire from his wallet. +I took it, glanced at the envelope and handed it to Suzanne. This time she +read it very gingerly before exclaiming in a highly unemotional voice: 'Oh, +how provoking! Poor Percival's got one of his sudden attacks of malaria and +can't come. So, if you don't mind, Aunt Lucy, I'll catch the eleven-fifteen +back.' Aunt Lucy was very sympathetic and went up to help her with her +packing, which was accomplished in a surprisingly short time; as a matter +of fact she had practically done it all before breakfast. Just as she was +going to drive off to the station up came another telegraph-boy. That was +your second wire, and Suzanne didn't seem any too pleased to receive it. +I'm not at all convinced," concluded Toby, "that your wife would make her +fortune on the stage." + +"Do you think Aunt Lucy suspects?" I asked. + +"Bless you, no. The dear old thing has the heart of a child." + +Maybe, but I have my doubts. Suzanne's aunt insisted on my staying a week +as a preventive against a nervous breakdown, and the tonic with which she +herself dosed me several times a day was the most repulsive beverage I had +ever tasted, effectually ruining the savour of figs and mulberries. Can it +be that Aunt Lucy is not only of a suspicious but also of a revengeful +nature? + +Suzanne ridicules my doublings and declares that she could make her aunt +swallow anything. I wish she could have made her swallow my tonic. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE QUESTION OF THE YACHTING CAP. + +HE DIDN'T WANT TO LOOK LIKE EVERY TOM, DICK AND HARRY, HE SAID, SO HE +DECIDED TO GO IN HIS YACHTING CAP.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BRITISH ASSOCIATION DELEGATES DISCUSSING ORIGIN OF STREET +ARAB'S EJACULATION, "YAH-YAH-YAH-SHR-R-RUP!"] + + * * * * * + + KAMENEFF to KRASSIN (on applying for passports): "_Cras ingens + iterabimus æquor._" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Host._ "HALF A MINUTE! I'LL LIGHT YOU TO THE GATE; IT'S +VERY DARK." + +_Cheerful Guest._ "THAT'S ALL RIGHT. I CAN SEE IN THE DARK. WHY, WHEN I WAS +IN FLANDERS--" + +_Host._ "YES, YES; BUT YOU'RE NOT IN FLANDERS NOW--YOU'RE IN MY CARNATION +BED."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +It would certainly have been a thousand pities if the coming of Peace had +deprived us of anything so cheerfully stimulating as the tales of "SAPPER" +(CYRIL MCNEILE). His _Bull-Dog Drummond_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) shows all +the old breathless invention as active as ever, while the pugnacity--to +give it no stronger term--is wholly unrestrained, even by what might seem +the unpromising atmosphere of Godalming in 1919. It would, of course, be +utterly beyond my scope to give in barest outline any list of the wild and +whirling events that begin when _Captain Hugh Drummond_ selects the most +encouraging of the answers to his "Bored ex-soldier" advertisement and +meets the writer, a cryptic but lovely lady, in the Carlton lounge. +(Judging by contemporary fiction, what histories could those walls reveal!) +After that the affair almost instantly develops into one lurid sequence of +battle, murder, bluff and the kind of ten-minutes-here-for-courtship which +proves that there is a gentler side even to the process of tracking crime. +As usual, though less in this business than most, because of the engaging +humour of the hero, I experienced a mild sympathy for the arch-villains; +and indeed they might well feel some bitterness when, after being described +as the master-intellects of the age, the author required them to conduct +their most secret affairs in a lighted ground-floor room with the curtains +undrawn. Most of them turn out to be Bolshevists, or at least in the +receipt of Soviet subsidies--though I see a well-known Labour Daily +reviewed the plot as unconvincing. Odd! Anyhow, a rattling story. + + * * * * * + +I am aware that, in confessing to an entire ignorance of any one of the +so-called _Books of Artemas_, I place myself in a minority so small as to +be almost beneath notice. This certainly is how the publishers regard the +matter if one may judge by their ecstatically jubilant, "Artemas has +written a novel! 7s. 6d. net," on the wrapper of _A Dear Fool_ (WESTALL). +Well, I have read the novel carefully, even I trust generously, with the +unhappy result that (knowing how elusive and individual a thing is +laughter) I can hardly bring myself to say how dull I found it. But the +fact remains. It is all about nothing--a preposterous little plot for the +identification, at a wildly inhuman reception, of an anonymous dramatist, +revealed finally as the journalist hero who was nearly sacked for writing +the play's only bad notice. In my day I have met both editors and critics; +even dramatists. I don't say they were all pleasant people; many of them +were not. But--here is my point--practically every one of them had at least +sufficient of our common humanity to prevent them from behaving for one +instant as their representatives do in this book. Let us charitably leave +it at that. Probably the next man I meet will have invited apoplexy over +his enjoyment of the same pages that moved me only to an irritated +bewilderment. You never can tell. + + * * * * * + +I rather think that _The Man with the Rubber Soles_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) +is Sir ALEXANDER BANNERMAN'S firstling, at least as far as fiction is +concerned. If so, many others will share my hope that it may prove to be +the eldest of a large family. For the author has not merely the knack of +telling a good mystery story in a way that keeps one interested until the +last page is turned; he tells it in a curiously dry matter-of-fact way that +makes really startling adventures seem the sort of thing that might happen +to anybody. The story concerns the pursuit of a gang of men who are engaged +in importing forged Treasury notes on a large scale and uttering them +through skilfully organised agencies. The police and various civilians +between them--there is no super-sleuth to weary us with his machine-like +prowess--run the thing to earth, partly by skill and partly by good luck, +and the civilians in particular have a stirring time doing it. Bombs, +automatic pistols, even soldiers and a submarine, assist quite naturally in +sustaining the interest. And a pleasant little romance is really woven into +the plot, not just pushed in anyhow. Altogether _The Man with the Rubber +Soles_ is a most excellent story of its kind, a real novel because plot and +treatment are alike new, and one can safely prophesy that when Sir +ALEXANDER BANNERMAN produces his nextling he will find a large and +appreciative circle of readers waiting to welcome it. + + * * * * * + +Three things charmed me particularly about _Henry Elizabeth_ (HURST AND +BLACKETT), whose remarkable second name was due to the fact that he was +born in the same year as the Virgin Queen and that his father had hoped +that he too would be a girl. In the first place he became the greatest +swordsman of his age and I was thus able to add him to my fine collection +of Elizabethan heroes who have achieved this honour. What happens when two +of these champions meet in those shadowy regions of romance where all +costume novels are merged I do not know. It must be rather like the +irresistible force and the immovable object. In the second place _H.E._ (no +one could better deserve these formidable initials) was given the job of +clearing Lundy Island of its piratical tenants, and I happened to have +Lundy Island just opposite me as I read the book. It is not often that a +reviewer has the chance of checking local colour with so little pains. And +in the third place Mr. JUSTIN HUNTLY MCCARTHY informs me, on page 101, that +his hero will "gaze one day upon rivers to which the Thames should seem +little better than a pitiful rivulet." As _Henry_ never gets further from +his native Devon than London in the course of this novel I take it that +this is a delicate allusion to the possibility of a sequel. I hope it is +so, and that I shall hear of _Henry_ in days to come, after a trip or two +with RALEIGH or DRAKE, rebuilding his manor of Braginton, which was +unfortunately burnt to the ground, and settling down to plant potatoes and +tobacco in prosperity and peace. + + * * * * * + +From the title, _Brute Gods_ (HEINEMANN), you may guess that Mr. LOUIS +WILKINSON'S new novel does not deal with homely topics in a vein of +harmless frolic. In recommending this very serious work of an expert author +and observer, I am bound to make some reservation. Unsophisticated youth, +if such there be in these days, should be kept away from the affair between +_Alec Glaive_ and _Gillian Collett_. _Alec_, a mere boy, was in a +dangerously unsettled condition when the lady crossed his path. His mother +had upset a not too happy family by eloping with a literary _poseur_; the +egoism of his father had been rendered even more oppressive and his sarcasm +even more acid thereby; and a Roman Catholic priest, intent on securing a +convert for his Order, had been plying his young mind with too exciting +conversations and too refreshing wines. Apart from external circumstances, +_Alec_ was tending to quarrel with humanity at large, and so he went the +whole hog, more in search of a desperate ideal than by way of impetuous +sin. Mr. WILKINSON treats the affair with deliberate, cold-blooded, even +cynical analysis; and his portrayal of the snobbery and humbug of the +upper-middle class, social and intellectual, in which his creatures move is +searching and disturbing. But, I ask myself, are people really like that? +Or rather are there enough of these unnaturals, extremists, moral +Bolshevists or whatever you like to call them, to justify their +presentation as a modern type? Always an optimist, I think not; and I +notice that the author gives a no less clever and a much more convincing +impression of the normal, settled and pleasant characters who are +incidental to the plot. Make for yourself the acquaintance of the charming +_Wilfred Vail_ and the most amusing and seductive Cockney artiste, _Betty +Barnfield_, and you will admit, however pessimistic your views, that there +may be something in mine. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: ROMANCE AND PROSE. + +_The Youth._ "CAN YOU DIRECT ME TO THE CASTLE OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN?" + +_The Old Man._ "I CAN, YOUNG MAN. BUT PERCHANCE THOU GOEST TO SEEK THE HAND +OF THE PRINCESS? BEWARE, RASH YOUTH! IT IS A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. THOU WILT +BE REQUIRED TO ACHIEVE MANY DANGEROUS TASKS. HAST THOU THOUGHT OF THE +RISK?" + +_The Youth._ "NOT MUCH. I'M GOIN' TO MEND THE KITCHEN BOILER."] + + * * * * * + +PALMAM QUI MERUIT FERAT. + + "The Czecho-Slovaks were greeted this afternoon by a committee of + Vancouver ladies, representing the Red Cross Society. The war-worn + veterans were presented with a package containing cigarettes, an orange + and a chocolate bar, in recognition of valuable services rendered the + Allied cause."--_Canadian Paper._ + + * * * * * + + "PRINCE GEORGE IN SWEDEN. + + Prince George has been enjoying the sights of Christiania and its + beautiful surroundings."--_Morning Paper._ + +He should now visit Stockholm and give Norway a turn. + + * * * * * + + "Gentleman, no ties, will undertake any mission to anywhere."-- + _Provincial Paper._ + +But surely not where neck-wear is _de rigueur_. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +159, September 1st, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 16717-8.txt or 16717-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/7/1/16717/ + +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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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. 159, September 1st, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: September 18, 2005 [EBook #16717] + +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. 159.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>September 1st, 1920.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page161" id="page161"></a>[pg 161]</span> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + + <p>A Newcastle miner who was stated to be earning a pound a day has been + fined ten pounds for neglecting his children. The idea of waiting till + September 20th and letting Mr. <font class="sc">Smillie</font> neglect + them does not seem to have occurred to him.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"Beyond gardening," says a gossip writer, "Mr. <font + class="sc">Smillie</font> has few hobbies." At the same time there is no + doubt he is busy getting together a fine collection of strikes.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>It is said that <font class="sc">Amundsen</font> will not return to + civilisation this year. If he was thinking of Ireland he isn't missing + any civilisation worth mentioning.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"The <font class="sc">Poet Laureate</font>," says a weekly paper, "has + not written an ode to British weather." So that can't be the cause of + it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A Wolverhampton man weighing seventeen stone, in charging another with + assault, said he heard somebody laughing at him, so he looked round. A + man of that weight naturally would.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"There is work for everybody who likes to work," says Mr. N. <font + class="sc">Grattan Doyle</font>, M.P. It is this tactless way of rubbing + it in which annoys so many people.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A contemporary has a letter from a correspondent who signs himself + "Tube Traveller of Twenty Years' Standing." Somebody ought to offer the + poor fellow a seat.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>In connection with the case of a missing railway-porter one railway + line has decided to issue notices warning travellers against touching + porters while they are in motion.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"The United States," declares the proprietor of a leading New York + hotel, "is on the eve of going wet again." A subtle move of this kind, + with the object of depriving drink of its present popularity, is said to + be making a strong appeal to the Prohibitionists.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>One London firm is advertising thirty thousand alarum-clocks for sale + at reduced prices. There is now no excuse for any workman being late at a + strike.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A centenarian in the Shetlands, says a news agency, has never heard of + Mr. <font class="sc">Lloyd George</font>. We have no wish to brag, but we + have often seen his name mentioned.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Professor <font class="sc">Petrie's</font> statement that the world + will only last another two hundred thousand years is a sorry blow to + those who thought that <i>Chu Chin Chow</i> was in for a long run. + Otherwise the news has been received quietly.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"Nothing useful is ever done in the House of Commons," says a Labour + speaker. He forgets that the cleaners are at work in the building just + now.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>We are informed that at the Bricklaying contest at the Olympic Games a + British bricklayer lost easily.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"A dress designer," says a Camomile Street dressmaker in <i>The + Evening News</i>, "must be born." We always think this is an + advantage.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A gossip-writer points out that Mr. <font class="sc">Winston + Churchill's</font> earliest ambition was to be an actor. Our contemporary + is wise not to disclose the name of the man who talked him out of it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"Whatever price is fixed it is impossible to get stone in any + quantity," says a building trade journal. They have evidently not heard + of our coal-dealer.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"Nothing of any value has been gained by the War," complains a daily + paper. This slur on the O.B.E. is in shocking taste.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A Sunday newspaper deplores that there seems to be no means of + checking the crime-wave which is still spreading throughout the country. + If only the Government would publish the amount of American bacon + recently purchased by the Prisons' Department things might tend to + improve.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"There is still a great shortage of gold in the country," announces a + weekly paper. It certainly seems as if our profiteers will soon have to + be content with having their teeth stopped with bank-notes.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>We regret to learn that the amateur gardener whose marrows were + awarded the second prize for cooking-apples at a horticultural show is + still confined to his bed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A neck-ruffle originally worn by <font class="sc">Queen + Elizabeth</font> has been stolen from a house in Manchester and has not + yet been recovered. Any reader noticing a suspicious-looking person + wearing such an article over her <i>décolleté</i> should immediately + communicate with the nearest police-station.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Hair tonic, declares the Washington Chief of Police, is growing in + popularity as a beverage. The danger of this habit has been widely + advertised by the sad case of a Chicago man who drank three shampoo + cocktails and afterwards swallowed a hair in his soup.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>The mystery of the City gentleman who has been noticed lately going up + to public telephones and getting immediate answers is now solved. It + appears that he is a well-known ventriloquist with a weakness for + practical jokes.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/155.png"><img width="100%" src="images/155.png" + alt="I never ordered it" /></a> + <p class="center">"<font class="sc">I never ordered it—and I + won't pay for it.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"According to the latest census returns, the population of New York + City is now £5,621,000."—<i>Indian Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>In dollars, of course, it would be considerably more.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"The Royal Dutch Mail steamer Stuyvesant will leave on Monday at 5 + a.m. for Havre and Amsterdam. The tender leaves the Lighthouse Jetty at 8 + a.m. punctually with passengers."—<i>West Indian Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>Rather a mean trick to play on them.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"The Chairman said the Council had never paid one penny for the oiling + and washing of the fire brigade."—<i>Local Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>It is understood that while the noble fellows do not object to washing + at reasonable intervals, they strongly deprecate oiling as unnecessarily + adding to the risks of their dangerous calling.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page162" id="page162"></a>[pg 162]</span> + +<h2>MR. SMILLIE'S LITTLE ARMAGEDDON.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Shall she, the England unafraid,</p> + <p class="i2">That came by steady courage through</p> + <p>The toughest war was ever made</p> + <p class="i2">And wiped the earth with <font class="sc">William Two</font></p> + <p>(Who, though it strikes us now as odd,</p> + <p>Was, in his way, a sort of little god)—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Shall she that stood serene and firm,</p> + <p class="i2">Sure of her will to stay and win,</p> + <p>Cry "Comrade!" on her knees and squirm</p> + <p class="i2">To lesser gods of cheaper tin,</p> + <p>Spreading herself, a <i>corpus vile</i>,</p> + <p>Under the prancing heels of Mr. <font class="sc">Smillie</font>?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Humour forbids! And even they</p> + <p class="i2">Who toil beneath the so-called sun,</p> + <p>Yet often in an eight-hours' day</p> + <p class="i2">Indulge a quiet sense of fun—</p> + <p>These too can see, however dim,</p> + <p>The joke of starving just for <font class="sc">Smillie's</font> whim.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And here I note what looks to be</p> + <p class="i2">A rent in Labour's sacred fane;</p> + <p>The priestly oracles disagree,</p> + <p class="i2">And, when a house is split in twain,</p> + <p>Ruin occurs—ay! there's the rub</p> + <p>Alike for Labour and Beelzebub.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And anyhow I hope that, where</p> + <p class="i2">At red of dawn on Rigi's height</p> + <p>He jodels to the astonished air,</p> + <p class="i2"><font class="sc">Lloyd George</font> is bent on sitting tight;</p> + <p>Nor, as he did in <font class="sc">Thomas'</font> case,</p> + <p>Nurses a scheme for saving <font class="sc">Smillie's</font> face.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Why should his face be saved? indeed,</p> + <p class="i2">Why should he have a face at all?</p> + <p>But, if he <i>must</i> have one to feed</p> + <p class="i2">And smell with, let the man install</p> + <p>A better kind, and thank his luck</p> + <p>That <i>all</i> his headpiece hasn't come unstuck.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i16">O.S.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A WHIFF OF THE BRINY.</h2> + + <p>As I entered the D.E.F. Company's depôt, Melancholy marked me for her + own. Business reasons—not my own but the more cogent business + reasons of an upperling—had just postponed my summer holiday; + postponed it with a lofty vagueness to "possibly November. We might be + able to let you go by then, my boy." November! What would + Shrimpton-on-Sea be like even at the beginning of November? Lovely + sea-bathing, delicious boating, enchanting picnics on the sand? I didn't + think. Melancholy tatooed me all over with anchors and pierced hearts, to + show that I was her very own, not to be taken away.</p> + + <p>I clasped my head in my hands and gazed in dumb agony at the menu + card. A kind waitress listened with one ear.</p> + + <p>"Poached egg and bacon—two rashers," I murmured.</p> + + <p>While I waited I crooned softly to myself:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Poor disappointed Georgie. Life seems so terribly sad.</p> + <p>All the bacon and eggs in the world, dear, won't make you a happy lad."</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>When the dish was brought I eyed it sadly. Sadly I raised a mouthful + of bacon to my lips....</p> + + <p>Swish!!! The exclamation-marks signify the suddenness with which the + train swept into the station. I leapt down on to the platform and drew a + long breath. The sea! In huge whiffs the ozone rolled into my nostrils. I + gurgled with delight. Everything smelt of the dear old briny: the little + boys running about with spades and pails; the great basketsful of fish; + the blue jerseys of the red-faced men who, at rare intervals, toiled upon + the deep. At the far end of the platform I saw the reddest face of all, + that of my dear old landlord. I rushed to meet him....</p> + + <p>Ah me, ah me! The incrusted-papered walls of the depôt girt me in + again. I took another mouthful of bacon—a larger one....</p> + + <p>Bang! Someone was thumping on the door of my bathing-machine. What a + glorious scent of salt rose from the sea-washed floor! "Are you coming + out?" asked a persuasive voice. "No, no, no!" I shouted joyously. "I am + going in." What a dive! I never knew before how superlatively graceful my + dives could be. Away through the breakers with a racing stroke. Over on + my back, kicking fountains at the sun. In this warm water I should stay + in for hours and hours and....</p> + + <p>Pah! That horrible incrusted paper back again! I bolted the remaining + rasher....</p> + + <p>The boat rocked gently in a glassy sea. They were almost climbing over + the gunwale in their eagerness to be caught. Lovely wet shining wriggly + fellows; all the varieties of the fishmonger's slab and more. In season + or out, they didn't care; they thought only of doing honour to my line. + No need in future for me to envy the little boys on the river-bank who + pulled in fish after fish when I never got a bite. How delightfully salt + the fish smelt! And the sun drew out the scent of salt from the gently + lapping waves. It was all so quiet and restful. Almost could I have + slumbered, even as I pulled them in and in and....</p> + + <p>The waitress must have giggled. Once again the incrusted paper leered + at me in ail its horrible pink incrustiness. There was no bacon left on + my plate. But the delicious scent of salt still lingered. Alas, my + holiday was over! I must speed me or I should miss the train to town.</p> + + <p>"Good-bye!" I shouted to the manageress and shook her by the hand. She + seemed surprised. "Such a happy time," I assured her. "I wish I could + have it all over again."</p> + + <p>She said something which I could not hear. Sea-bathing tends to make + me a little deaf.</p> + + <p>"If I have forgotten anything—my pyjamas or my shaving + strop—would you be so kind as to send them on? Good-bye again."</p> + + <p>Something fluttered to the floor. The manageress stooped. I was just + passing through the portals.</p> + + <p>"You have forgotten this," she called.</p> + + <p>It was the dear little square piece of paper which contained my bill. + I looked at it in amazement.</p> + + <p>"What!" I exclaimed—"only one-and-twopence for a poached egg and + bacon and all that salt flavour thrown in?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Our Modest Advertisers.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"European lady (widow), rather lovely, would like to hear from Army + Officer or Civilian in a similar position, with a view to keeping up a + congenial correspondence."—<i>Indian Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"A correspondent in the Air Force writes from Bangalore:—</p> + + <p>'It is rather amusing to notice the number of people in the English + community who have never before seen an aeroplane coming up to the + aerodrome and gazing in wonder at the old buses.'"—<i>Evening + Standard.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>Even in England this spectacle is still the object of remark.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"We really feel inclined to parody Kipling and say—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>'One hand stuck in your dress shirt from to show heart is cline,</p> + <p>The other held behind your back, to signal, tax again.'"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><i>Singapore Free Press.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>We can only hope our esteemed contemporary will not feel this way + again.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page163" id="page163"></a>[pg 163]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/157.png"><img width="100%" src="images/157.png" + alt="THE ROAD TO RUIN." /></a> + <h3>THE ROAD TO RUIN.</h3> + + <p><font class="sc">Labour.</font> "WHAT'S YOUR GAME?"</p> + + <p><font class="sc">Mr. Smillie.</font> "I'M OUT FOR + NATIONALISATION."</p> + + <p><font class="sc">Labour.</font> "AH! AND YOU'RE GOING TO BEGIN BY + NATIONALISING STARVATION?"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page164" id="page164"></a>[pg 164]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/158.png"><img width="100%" src="images/158.png" + alt="Delaying the harvest" /></a> + <p><i>Mrs. Smithson-Jones</i> (<i>to her husband, who <font + class="sc">will</font> garden in his pyjamas before breakfast</i>). + "<font class="sc"><i>Do</i> come in, Adolphus; you're delaying the + harvest</font>."</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>THE ART OF POETRY.</h2> + +<p class="center">IV.</p> + + <p>Good morning, gentlemen. Before I pass to the subject of my lecture + today I must deal briefly with a personal matter of some delicacy. Since + I began this series of lectures on the Art of Poetry I notice that the + new Professor of Poetry at Oxford, Mr. W.P. <font class="sc">Ker</font>, + in what I think is questionable taste, has delivered an inaugural lecture + on the <i>same</i> subject under the <i>same</i> title. On the question + of good taste I do not wish to say much, except that I should have + thought that any colleague of mine, even an entirely new Professor in a + provincial university, would have recognised the propriety of at least + communicating to me his intention before committing this monstrous + plagiarism.</p> + + <p>However, as I say, on that aspect of the matter I do not propose to + dwell, though it does seem to me that decency imposes certain limits to + that kind of academic piracy, and that those limits the Professor has + overstepped. In these fermenting days of licence and indiscipline persons + in responsible positions at our seats of learning have a great burden of + example to bear before the world, and if it were to go forth that actions + of this type may be taken with impunity by highly-paid Professors then + indeed we are not far from Bimetallism and the breaking-up of laws.</p> + + <p>Now let us glance for a moment at the substance of the lecture. I + should have been glad if Professor <font class="sc">Ker</font> had had + the courtesy to show it to me before it was delivered, instead of my + having to wait till it was printed and buy it in a shop, because I might + have induced him to repair the more serious errors and omissions in his + work. For really, when you come to analyse the lecture, what thin and + bodyless stuff it is. Let me at once pay tribute to my colleague's + scholarship and learning, to the variety of his citations. But, after + all, anyone can buy a Quotation Dictionary and quote bits out of <font + class="sc">Swinburne</font>. That surely—(see <font + class="sc">Freidrich's</font> <i>Crime and Quotation</i>, pp. + 246-9)—is not the whole task of a Professor of Poetry.</p> + + <p>Such a man, if he is to earn his pay, must be able—</p> + + <p>(<i>a</i>) to show how poetry is written;</p> + + <p>(<i>b</i>) to write poetry;</p> + + <p>and it is no good his attempting (<i>a</i>) in the absence of + (<i>b</i>). It is no good teaching a man to slope arms if you are unable + to slope arms yourself, because a moment will come when he says, "Well, + how the dickens <i>do</i> you slope them?" It is no good professing + lawn-tennis and saying, "Top-spin is imparted by drawing the racquet up + and over," and so on, if, when you try to impart top-spin yourself, the + ball disappears on to the District Railway. Still less is it useful if + you deliver a long address to the student, saying, "H.L. <font + class="sc">Doherty</font> was a good player, and so was <font + class="sc">Renshaw</font>, and I well remember the game between <font + class="sc">McLoughlin</font> and <font class="sc">Wilding</font>, because + <font class="sc">Wilding</font> hit the ball over the net more often than + <font class="sc">McLoughlin</font> did."</p> + + <p>Those students who have attended my lectures more regularly than + others—and I am sorry there are not more of them—will do me + the justice to remember that I have put forward no theory of writing + which I was not prepared to illustrate in practice from my own work. My + colleague, so far as I can discover, makes one single attempt at + practical assistance; and even that is a minor plagiarism from one of my + own lectures. He makes a good deal of play with what <span + class="pagenum"><a name="page165" id="page165"></a>[pg 165]</span> he + calls the principle and influence of the Italian Canzone, which simply + means having a lot of ten-syllable lines and a few six-syllable ones. + Students will remember that in our second lecture we wrote a poem on that + principle, which finished:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Toroodle—umti—oodle—umti—knife (or strife)</p> + <p class="i6">Where have they put my hat?</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>That lecture was prepared on May 27th; my colleague's lecture was + delivered on June 5th. It is clear to me that in the interval—by + what discreditable means I know not—he obtained access to my + manuscript and borrowed the idea, thinking to cloak his guilt by specious + talk about the Italian <i>Canzone</i>. The device of offering stolen + goods under a new name is an old one, and will help him little; the jury + will know what to think.</p> + + <p>Apart from this single piece of (second-hand) instruction, what + contribution does he make to the student's knowledge of the Art of + Poetry? He makes no reference to comic poetry at all; apparently he has + never <i>heard</i> of the Limerick, and I have the gravest doubts whether + he can write one, though that, I admit, is a severe test. I am prepared + however to give him a public opportunity of establishing his fitness for + his post, and with that end I propose to put to him the following + problems, and if his answers are satisfactory I shall most willingly + modify my criticisms; but he must write on one side of the paper only and + number his pages in the top right-hand corner.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>The Problems.</i></p> + + <p>(1) What is the metre of:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"And the other grasshopper jumped right over the other grasshopper's back."</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>(2) Finish the uncompleted Limerick given in my Second Lecture, + beginning:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There was a young man who said "<i>Hell!</i></p> + <p>I don't think I feel very well."</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>(3) In your inaugural lecture you ask, "Is it true, or not, that the + great triumphs of poetical art often come suddenly?" The answer you give + is most unsatisfactory; give a better one now, illustrating the answer + from your own works.</p> + + <p>(4) Write a Ballade of which the refrain is either—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>(<i>a</i>) The situation is extremely grave;</p> + <p class="i16">or</p> + <p>(<i>b</i>) The Empire is not what it was;</p> + <p class="i16">or</p> + <p>(<i>c</i>) We lived to see Lord Birkenhead.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><font class="sc">Note</font>.—Extra marks will be given for an + attempt at (<i>b</i>) because of the shortage of rhymes to + <i>was</i>.</p> + + <p>(5) What would you do in the following circumstances? In May you have + sent a poem to an Editor, ending with the lines—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The soldiers cheered and cheered again—</p> + <p class="i2">It was the <font class="sc">Prince of Wales</font>.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>On July 20th the Editor writes and says that he likes the poem very + much, and wishes to print it in his August number, but would be glad if + you could make the poem refer to Mr. or Mrs. <font class="sc">Douglas + Fairbanks</font> instead of the <font class="sc">Prince</font>. He must + have the proof by the first post to-morrow as he is going to press. Show, + how you would reconstruct your last verse.</p> + + <p>(6) Consider the following passages—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>(i) I love little pussy,</p> + <p class="i6">Her coat is so <i>warm</i>,</p> + <p class="i4">And if I don't hurt her</p> + <p class="i6">She'll do me no <i>harm</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>(ii) Who put her <i>in</i>?</p> + <p class="i4"> Little Tommy <i>Green</i>.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>(<i>a</i>) Carefully amend the above so that they rhyme properly.</p> + + <p>(<i>b</i>) Do you as a matter of principle approve of these kinds of + rhyme?</p> + + <p>(<i>c</i>) If not, do you approve of them in (i) <font + class="sc">Shakspeare</font>, (ii) <font class="sc">Wordsworth</font>, + (iii) <font class="sc">Shelley</font>, (iv) Any serious classic?</p> + +<p class="author">A.P.H.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:66%;"> + <a href="images/159.png"><img width="100%" src="images/159.png" + alt="And I had one of those little round bun arrangements." /></a> + <p><i>Customer.</i> "<font class="sc">And I had one of those little + round bun arrangements.</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Waitress.</i> "<font class="sc">That'll be another + tuppence.</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Customer.</i> "<font class="sc">One of those that are hollow, you + know.</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Waitress.</i> "<font class="sc">Oh—one of <i>them</i>. + That'll be fourpence.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Four Volumes 'The Great World War,' pre-war price Rs. 40. What + offers? Perfect."—<i>Indian Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>A clear case of propheteering.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>From an Irish Labour manifesto:—</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Impulsive cats, howsoever justifiable, may prove to be + unwise."—<i>Irish Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>Remember what happened at Kilkenny.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page166" id="page166"></a>[pg 166]</span> + +<h2>THE PRIVILEGES OF MARGOTISM.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>[Something was said in <i>Punch</i> last week about the advantage to + the reminiscencer of being his (or her) own <font + class="sc">Johnson</font> and <font class="sc">Boswell</font> too. Mrs. + <font class="sc">Asquith's</font> recent adventures with the descendants + of some of her late friends, of whose fair fame they are not less jealous + than she, suggest certain of the pitfalls incident to this double + <i>rôle</i>, particularly when the autobiographer is remote from his (or + her) journals. Since however an inaccuracy always has a day's start and + is never completely overtaken, while in course of time the pursuit ceases + altogether, the greatest danger is not immediate but for the future. Let + us imagine a case.]</p> + + </blockquote> +<p class="center"><font class="sc">From</font> "<font class="sc">The Margotist's Reminiscences</font>."</p> + + <p>By the Author of <i>Statesmen I Have Influenced</i>; <i>My Wonderful + Life</i>; <i>The Souls' Awakener</i>; <i>The Elusive Diary</i>, <i>etc., + etc.</i></p> + + <p>One of my dearest friends in the early nineteen hundreds was Mr. + Sadrock. I have known eleven Prime Ministers in my time and have + assurances from all, signed and witnessed, that but for me and my + vivacious encouragement they would never have pulled through; but with + none was I on terms of such close communion as with Mr. Sadrock, who not + only asked my advice on every occasion of importance, but spent many of + his waking hours in finding rhymes to my name. Some of his four-lined + couplets in my honour could not be either wittier or more charming as + compliments.</p> + + <p>He often averred that no one could amuse him as I did. He laughed once + for half-an-hour on end when I said, "It takes a Liberal to be a Tory;" + and on another occasion when I said, "The essence of Home Rule is, like + charity, that it begins abroad." Nothing but the circumstance that he was + already happily married prevented him from proposing to me.</p> + + <p>Mr. Sadrock is now to many people only a name; but in his day he was a + force to compare with which we have at this moment only one statesman and + he is temporarily out of office.</p> + + <p>The odd thing is that if the ordinary person were to be asked what Mr. + Sadrock was famous for, he would probably reply, For his devotion to + <font class="sc">Homer</font> and the Established Church. But the joke is + that when I was with him in 1902 he was frivolous on both these subjects. + It was, I remember, in the private room at the House of Commons set apart + for Prime Ministers, to which, being notoriously so socially couth, I + always had a private key—the only one ever given to a + woman—and he was more than usually delightful.</p> + + <p>This is what was said:—</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Mr. Sadrock</font></i> (<i>mixing himself an egg + nogg</i>). Will you join me?</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Myself.</font></i> No, thank you. But I like to + see you applying yourself to Subsidiary Studies to the Art of Butler.</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Mr. Sadrock</font></i> (<i>roaring with + laughter</i>). That's very good. Some day you must put your best things + into a book.</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Myself.</font></i> You bet.</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Mr. Sadrock.</font></i> I wonder why it is that + you make me so frank. It is your wonderful sympathetic understanding, I + suppose. I long to tell you something now.</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Myself</font></i> (<i>affecting not to care</i>). + Do. I am secrecy itself.</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Mr. Sadrock.</font></i> Would it surprise you to + know that I am privily a Dissenter? Do you know that I often steal away + in a false beard to attend the services of Hard-Shell Baptists and + Plymouth Brethren?</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Myself.</font></i> I hope I am no longer capable + of feeling anything so <i>démodé</i> as surprise.</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Mr. Sadrock.</font></i> And that I prefer + <i>Robert Elsmere</i> to the <i>Iliad</i>?</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Myself.</font></i> May I print those declarations + in my book?</p> + + <p><i><font class="sc">Mr. Sadrock.</font></i> Some day, yes, but not + yet, not yet.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center"><font class="sc">Mr. Sadrock and Nonconformity</font>.</p> +<p class="center"><i>To the Editor of</i> "<i>The Monday Times</i>."</p> + + <p><font class="sc">Sir</font>,—I find it necessary, in the + interests of truth and of respect for the memory of my uncle, Mr. + Sadrock, to contest the accuracy of the Margotist's report of + conversations with him in 1902. To begin with, my uncle died in 1898, + four years before the alleged interview. She could therefore not have + talked with him in 1902; and the <i>locale</i> of this meeting, the Prime + Minister's room, becomes peculiarly fantastic. Secondly, no member of his + family—and they saw him constantly—ever heard him utter + anything resembling the sentiments which the Margotist attributes to him. + Mr. Sadrock was both an undeviating Churchman and a devotee of <font + class="sc">Homer</font> to the end of his life.</p> + +<p class="center">I am, etc.,</p> +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Theophilus Sadrock</font>.</p> + +<p class="center"><font class="sc">The Margotist's Reply</font>.</p> + + <p><font class="sc">Sir</font>,—I have read Mr. Theophilus + Sadrock's letter and am surprised by its tone. If Mr. Sadrock did not + make use of the words that I attribute to him how could I have set them + down? Because I was writing unobserved all the time he was talking, and I + could produce the notes if they were, to others, legible enough for it to + be worth while; surreptitious writing must necessarily be indistinct at + times. As for the question of time and place, that is a mere quibble. Mr. + Sadrock was alive when we had our talk, and I am sorry if I have misdated + it. The talk remains. May I add that it is very astonishing to me to find + people with the effrontery to suggest that they knew their illustrious + relatives better than strangers could. Everyone is aware that the last + place to go to for evidence as to a man is to his kith and kin. When my + book appears there will be a few corrections; but in the main I stand by + the motto which I invented for Chamberlain one evening: "What I have + written I have written."</p> + +<p class="center">I am, Yours, etc.,</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">The Margotist.</font></p> + + <p><i>The Woop.</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center"><font class="sc">From</font> "<font class="sc">Sadrock: a Definitive Biography</font>."</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Published in 1940.</i></p> + + <p>Before leaving our consideration of Sadrock's Homeric studies it is + however necessary to point out that late in life he made a very curious + recantation. In a book of memoirs, published in 1920, by one who was in a + position to acquire special information, it is stated in his own words + that Sadrock preferred <i>Robert Elsmere</i> to the <i>Iliad</i>; while + during the same conversation he confessed to a passion for the services + of Dissenters, which, he said, he often frequented <i>incognito</i>. No + biographer can disregard such admissions, and we must revise our opinion + of the great statesman accordingly.</p> + +<p class="author">E.V.L.</p> + +<hr /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"<font class="sc">Sale</font>, Gent's Evening Suit, Tennis Trousers, + Sweater, Black Silk Coat suit elderly lady."—<i>Irish + Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>The revolutionary movement in Ireland seems to have reached even the + fashions.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"<font class="sc">London, July</font> 16.</p> + + <p>It is reported on reliable authority that General Wrangel has refused + to withdraw to the Cinema in compliance with the terms of the proposed + armistice.—<i>Statesman</i> (<i>Calcutta</i>).</p> + + </blockquote> + <p>It is believed that "<font class="sc">Mary</font>" and "<font + class="sc">Doug.</font>" were greatly relieved to be rid of so dangerous + a rival.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"When is the demoralisation at some of our great London hotels to give + place to reasonable service and cleanliness? On every side I hear + complaints of inefficient attendance and dirty rooms. As for clean towels + in the bathroom, they appear on the Ides of March."—<i>Sunday + Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>At one hotel, we understand, they failed to remember the Ides of March + and are now waiting for the Greek Kalends.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page167" id="page167"></a>[pg 167]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/161.png"><img width="100%" src="images/161.png" + alt="THE DO-IT-YOURSELF AGE." /></a> + <h3>THE "DO-IT-YOURSELF" AGE.</h3> + + <p class="center">FATHER'S HOME-MADE SWEATER.</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page168" id="page168"></a>[pg 168]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/162.png"><img width="100%" src="images/162.png" + alt="OUR SPORTING PURISTS." /></a> + <p class="center">OUR SPORTING PURISTS.</p> + + <div class="i8"> + <p><i>Urchin.</i> "<font class="sc">Come an' play cricket, + Alf</font>."</p> + + <p><i>Alf.</i> "<font class="sc">Wot! In the football + season</font>?"</p> + </div> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>THE REVOLT OF YOUTH.</h2> + + <p>We publish a few selected letters from the mass of correspondence + which has reached us in connection with the controversy initiated by "A + Bewildered Parent" in <i>The Morning Post</i>:</p> + +<p class="center"><font class="sc">A Leguminous Laudation.</font></p> + + <p><font class="sc">Sir</font>,—I confess I cannot share the + anxiety of the "Bewildered Parent" who complains of the child of two and + a half years who addressed her learned parent as "Old bean." As a + convinced Montessorian I recognise in the appellation a gratifying + evidence of that self-expression which cannot begin too young. Moreover + there is nothing derogatory in the phrase; on the contrary I am assured + on the best authority that it is a term of endearment rather than + reproach. But, above all, as a Vegetarian I welcome the choice of the + term as an indication of the growth of the revolt against carnivorous + brutality. If the child in question had called her parent a "saucy + kipper" or "a silly old sausage" there would have been reasonable ground + for resentment. But comparison with a bean involves no obloquy, but + rather panegyric. The bean is one of the noblest of vegetables and is + exceptionally rich in calories, protein, casein, carbo-hydrates, thymol, + hexamyl, piperazine, salicylic dioxide, and permanganate of popocatapetl. + This a learned parent, if his learning was real, ought to have recognised + at once, instead of foolishly exploiting a fancied grievance.</p> + +<p class="center">Yours farinaceously,</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Josiah Vedgeley</font>.</p> + +<p class="center"><font class="sc">The Old Complaint.</font></p> + + <p><font class="sc">Sir</font>,—Some sixty years ago I was rebuked + by my father for addressing him as "Governor." Thirty years later I was + seriously offended with my own son for calling me an "old mug." He in + turn, though not by any means a learned man, has within the last few + weeks been irritated by his school-boy son derisively addressing him as + an "old dud." The duel between fathers and sons is as old as the + everlasting hills, and the rebels of one generation become the fogeys of + the next. I have no doubt that in moments of expansion the young + Marcellus alluded to his august parent as "<i>faba antiqua</i>."</p> + +<p class="center">Yours faithfully,</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Senex</font>.</p> + +<p class="center"><font class="sc">A Triple Life.</font></p> + + <p><font class="sc">Sir</font>,—As a middle-aged mother I do not + appeal for your sympathy, I merely wish to describe my position, the + difficulties of which might no doubt be paralleled in hundreds of other + households. I have three children whose characteristics may be thus + briefly summarised:—</p> + + <p>(1) Pamela, aged nineteen, is an ultra-modern young woman. She hates + politics of all shades, but adores <font class="sc">Scriabine</font>, + <font class="sc">Stravinsky</font> and <font class="sc">Benedetto + Croce</font>. She smokes cigars, wears male attire and has a perfect + command of the art of ornamental objurgation.</p> + + <p>(2) Gerald, aged twenty-three, is war-weary; resentful of all + authority; "bored stiff" by any music save of the syncopated brand, and + he divides his time between Jazz-dancing with the dismal fervour of a + gloomy dean and attending meetings of pro-Bolshevist extremists.</p> + + <p>(3) Anthony, aged twenty-six, is a soldier, a "regular"; restrained in + speech, somewhat old-fashioned in his tastes. This summer he spent his + leave fishing in Scotland and took with him two books—the <i>Life + of Stonewall Jackson</i> and the <i>Bible</i>. It is hardly necessary to + add that Gerald is not on speaking terms with him.</p> + + <p>As for myself, while anxious to keep in touch with my wayward brood, I + find the strain of accommodating myself to their varied requirements + almost more than I can stand. Pamela can only endure my companionship on + the conditions that I smoke (which makes me ill); that I emulate the + excesses of her lurid lingo (which makes me squirm), and that I paint my + face (which makes me look like a modern Messalina, which I am not). + Gerald is prepared to accept me as a "pal," provided that I play David to + his Saul by regaling him on Sunday mornings with negroid melodies, which + he punctuates with snorts on the trombone. If he knew that I went to + early morning service all would be at an end between us. Finally, Anthony + wants me to remain as I was and really am. So you see that I have to lead + not a dual but a triple life, and am only spared the necessity of making + it quadruple by the fact that my husband is fortunately dead. As Pamela + gracefully remarked the other day, "It was a good thing for poor father + that he went West to sing bass in the heavenly choir before we grew up." + In conclusion I ought to admit that my future is not without prospects of + alleviation. Pamela has just announced her engagement to an archdeacon of + pronounced Evangelical views; Gerald is meditating a prolonged tour in + New Guinea with a Bolshevist mission; Anthony contemplates neither + matrimony nor expatriation.</p> + +<p class="center">I am, Sir, Yours respectfully,</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">A Middle-aged Mother</font>.</p> + +<p class="center"><font class="sc">The Cry of the Child Author.</font></p> + + <p><font class="sc">Sir</font>,—As a novelist and dramatist whose + work has met with high encomiums from Mr. <font class="sc">J.L. + Garvin</font>, Mr. <font class="sc">C.K. Shorter</font>, Mr. <font + class="sc">James Douglas</font> and Lord <font class="sc">Howard de + Walden</font>, I wish to impress upon you and your readers the hardships + and restrictions which the tyranny of parental control still imposes on + juvenile genius. Though I recently celebrated my seventh birthday, my + father and mother have firmly refused to provide me with either a + latch-key or a motor-bicycle. Owing to the lack of proper accommodation + in my nursery my literary labours are carried on under the greatest + difficulties and hampered by constant interruptions from my nurse, a + vulgar woman with a limited vocabulary and no aspirates. I say nothing, + though I might say much, of the jealousy of adult authors, the + pusillanimity of unenterprising publishers, the senile indifference of + Parliament. But I warn them that, unless the just claims of youth to + economic and intellectual independence are speedily <span + class="pagenum"><a name="page169" id="page169"></a>[pg 169]</span> + acknowledged, the children of England will enforce them by direct action + of the most ruthless kind. The brain that rules the cradle rocks the + world.</p> + +<p class="center">Yours indignantly,</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Pansy Bashford</font>.</p> + +<p class="center"><font class="sc">A Doggerel Summary.</font></p> + + <p><font class="sc">Sir</font>,—I have followed the <i>Youth</i> v. + <i>Age</i> controversy with interest and venture to sum up its progress + so far in ten of the worst lines in the world:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There was an old don so engrossed</p> + <p>In maintaining his rule of the roast</p> + <p class="i4">That he made quite a scene</p> + <p class="i4">When addressed as "Old bean,"</p> + <p>And wrote to complain in <i>The Post</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Whereupon the disciples of <font class="sc">Wells</font></p> + <p>Emitted a chorus of yells,</p> + <p class="i4">And they fell upon Age</p> + <p class="i4">With unfilial rage</p> + <p>And gave it all manner of hells.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<p class="center">I am, Sir, Yours,</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Gallio Junior</font>.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/163.png"><img width="100%" src="images/163.png" + alt="What do you think is the cause?" /></a> + <p><i>Meanest Member</i> (<i>seeking free advice, after driving out of + bounds, from professional who is giving a lesson to another + player</i>). "<font class="sc">Funny thing, but every time I drive this + morning I slice like that. What do you think is the cause?</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Professional</i> (<i>after deep thought</i>). "<font + class="sc">Well, Sir, mebbe ye're no' hittin' 'em right.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h4>"SWITZERLAND AGAIN.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>Fine weather has resigned with only brief interruptions since the + season began."—<i>Times.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>Just as in England.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Alice ——, a married woman, was charged with unlawfully + wounding her husband, Charles ——, a labourer, by striking him + with a pair of tongues."—<i>Local Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p><font class="sc">Charles</font> has our sympathy. He might just as + well have been a bigamist.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>WESTWARD HO!</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>James, if from life's little worries and trouble you</p> + <p class="i2">Sigh to be wafted afar,</p> + <p>Meet me at Paddington Station, G.W.</p> + <p class="i12"> R.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thence, if our plans be not baulked by some latterday</p> + <p class="i2">Railwayman-unionist freak,</p> + <p>We'll make a bold bid for freedom on Saturday</p> + <p class="i12"> Week.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Care may ride pillion or on the ship's deck set her</p> + <p class="i2">Foot, but she'll hunt us in vain</p> + <p>Once we've set ours on the ten-thirty Exeter</p> + <p class="i12"> Train.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Ours no "resort" where you run up iniquitous</p> + <p class="i2">Bills at the "Royal" or "Grand,"</p> + <p>Blatant with pier and parade and ubiquitous</p> + <p class="i12"> Band.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>No "silver sea" where the gaudy and giddy come;</p> + <p class="i2">We're for a peacefuller air</p> + <p>Breathing of <i>Uncle Tom Cobley</i> and Widdicombe</p> + <p class="i12"> Fair.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Warm as a welcome the red of the tillage is,</p> + <p class="i2">Green are the pastures, and deep</p> + <p>Down in the combes little thatch-covered villages</p> + <p class="i12"> Sleep.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Far from society (praises to Allah be!),</p> + <p class="i2">Wearing demobilised boots,</p> + <p>Clad in our countrified (Deeley-cum-Mallaby)</p> + <p class="i12"> Suits,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We'll o'er the moor where the ways never weary us,</p> + <p class="i2">Lunch at a primitive pub,</p> + <p>Loaf till it's time to get back to more serious</p> + <p class="i12"> Grub.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Haply some neighbouring Dartymoor brooklet'll</p> + <p class="i2">Tempt us at eve to set out,</p> + <p>Greenheart in hand, and endeavour to hook little</p> + <p class="i12"> Trout.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Well, there's a programme for three weeks of heaven, sheer</p> + <p class="i2">Bliss, if you add to the scheme</p> + <p>Farm eggs and bacon and junket and Devonshire</p> + <p class="i12"> Cream.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page170" id="page170"></a>[pg 170]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/164.png"><img width="100%" src="images/164.png" + alt="Do you ever play anything by request?" /></a> + <div class="i16"> + <p><i>Customer.</i> "<font class="sc">I say—do you ever play + anything by request</font>?"</p> + + <p><i>Delighted Musician.</i> "<font class="sc">Certainly, + Sir.</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Customer.</i> "<font class="sc">Then I wonder if you'd be so good + as to play a game of dominoes until I've finished my lunch!</font>"</p> + </div> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>SAND SPORTS.</h2> + + <p>Two or three hundred yards behind the sandhills, which seem to be + deserted but are really full of sudden hollows, with embarrassing little + bathing tents in them, the village sports have just been held. They took + place in a sloping grass field kindly lent for the occasion by Mr. Bates. + This means that you paid a shilling to enter the field, whereas on other + days you can picnic in it or play cricket in it without paying anything + at all. Mr. Bates is a kind of absentee landlord so far as we are + concerned, for he is the butcher at Framford, four miles away, and only + brings the proceeds of his butchery to us on Tuesdays and Fridays, which + is the reason why on Mondays and Thursdays one usually has eggs and bacon + for dinner.</p> + + <p>It was an interesting afternoon for many reasons, most of all perhaps + because many of the visitors saw each other for the first time in + clothes—in land clothes, I mean—and it is wonderful how much + smarter some of them looked than when popping red or brown faces, with + lank wisps of hair on them, out of the brine.</p> + + <p>Some of the athletic events were open, like the Atlantic Sea, and some + close, like the Conferences at Lympne, but very few of the visitors + competed in any of them. I don't think any of us fancied our chances + overmuch, but personally I was a little bitter about the three-mile + bicycle race, because there were three prizes and only three competitors. + I am past my prime at this particular sport, but as it happened one of + the three broke his gear-chain somewhere about the seventh lap, and it + was a long time before he mended it and rode triumphantly past the + finishing flag. I felt then that I had missed what was probably my first + and last chance of securing an Olympic palm.</p> + + <p>The whole affair struck me as being very well managed; dull events, + like the high jump and putting the shot, being held quietly in a corner + by the hedge, whilst the really interesting things, like the sack race + and the egg and spoon race, went on in the middle. We used potatoes + instead of eggs, but whether there was a system of handicapping according + to the weight and age of the potatoes I was unable to determine. I do + feel confident, however, that that girl with the yellow hair and the + striped skirt to whom the first prize was quite incorrectly awarded by + the judges had put some treacle—But there, I will be + magnanimous.</p> + + <p>The postman was a great success. He had acquired a light suit of + overalls, on which he had painted three large red stars, using, I hope, + Government red ink, and with black cheeks and a floured nose footed it + solemnly to the music of the Framford Comrades' Band. He also ran + underneath the lath at the high jump and tumbled down in trying to put + the shot. All round the field children could be heard asking, "What + <i>is</i> he doing, Mummy?" and, when they were told, "Hush, dears, he's + doing it for a <i>joke</i>," their eyes danced and they tried for a + moment to control their emotion and then broke into shrieks of laughter. + All the difficult open events which were not won by a young man in + puce-coloured shorts were won by a friend of his in a yellow shirt. I + have an idea that these two young men came from Framford and go round + doing this kind of thing and getting prizes for it, just as Mr. Bates + goes round selling his beef.</p> + + <p>Amidst all this fun and frolic, if you went up to the top of one of + the sandhills and looked across the blue bay to the little seaport + opposite, you saw that it was also emptied of its folk this pious + afternoon and was in fact holding aquatic revels. Little fishing-boats + with brown sails were turning about a given mark. There were rowing races + and diving competitions and a greasy pole and very probably a comic man + dressed up as a buoy.</p> + + <p>I have pondered deeply over these twin feasts, and it has occurred to + me that, whilst land sports and water sports are both of them very good + things in their way, neither expresses the real genius of a maritime + resort, and also that we visitors, if we are too shy to enter with gusto + into the local games, ought to provide some suitable entertainment in + return. I have compiled therefore a programme of a Grand Beach Gala for + next week, and have had a notice put up in the post-office window + inviting entries. Not many people buy stamps at the post-office, but, as + you get bacon and spades and buckets and jam there, it is a pretty + popular emporium, and I think my list of events should prove an + attractive one. It runs as follows:—</p> + + <p>1. <i>Pebble and Tent Competition.</i>—Fathers of families only. + To be run if possible at low tide on a wet and windy day. Competitors to + leave starting post in ordinary attire, enter tent, emerge in bathing + costume, strike tents, sprint over shingle to the sea, swim to a given + point, return, pitch tents, dress and run to winning-post.</p> + + <p><font class="sc">First Prize</font>, a ham sandwich, with real + sand.</p> + + <p>2. <i>Sock Race.</i>—Under ten. Competitors to start barefooted + in rock-pools and race at the sound of a dinner-bell to nurses, have feet + dried, put on shoes and stockings and run to row of buns at top of beach. + First bun down wins. Points deducted for sand in socks.</p> + + <p>3. <i>Hundred Yards Paddle Dash.</i>—To be run along the edge of + surf. Handicap by position. Tallest competitor to have deepest station. + Open to all ages and sexes. Feet to be lifted clear of the water at every + stride. Properly raced this is a fine frothy event, productive of the + greatest enthusiasm, especially if the trousers come unrolled.</p> + + <p>4. <i>Sand Castle Contest.</i>—Open to all families of eight. + Twenty minutes time limit. Largest castle wins. Moats must contain real + sea-water.</p> + + <p>5. <i>Impromptu Picnic.</i>—Ladies only. Materials must be + collected from the village shops, brought down to beach and spread out at + winning flag. For the purpose of this competition the sports must take + place on a Thursday, when the weekly visit of the greengrocer coincides + with one of the bi-weekly visits of the baker from Framford. Eggs and + butter must be obtained at the Mill Farm, and you can do the rest at the + post-office.</p> + + <p>6. <i>Fifty Yards Hat Race.</i>—Under five. Fathers to be seated + in a row on beach. Competitors to remove fathers' hats, run twenty-five + yards, fill hats with sand, return and replace hats.</p> + + <p>In order to prevent any ill-feeling that might arise from the thought + that I had practised any of these races in private beforehand I have + elected to be the judge.</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Evoe.</font></p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page171" id="page171"></a>[pg 171]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/165.png"><img width="100%" src="images/165.png" + alt="A SESSION OF COMMON SENSE." /></a> + <h3>A SESSION OF COMMON SENSE.</h3> + + <p><font class="sc">Erin.</font> "I'VE GREAT HOPES OF THIS NEW + DEVELOPMENT; BUT OF COURSE IT'S NOT AN OFFICIAL CONFERENCE."</p> + + <p><font class="sc">Peace.</font> "WELL, TO JUDGE BY MY EXPERIENCE, + IT'S NONE THE WORSE FOR THAT."</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page173" id="page173"></a>[pg 173]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/166.png"><img width="100%" src="images/166.png" + alt="MODERN BUSINESS METHODS." /></a> + <div class="i16"> + <h3>MODERN BUSINESS METHODS.</h3> + + <p><i>Patron.</i> "<font class="sc">Didn't I give you something in High + Street this morning?</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Artist.</i> "<font class="sc">Yes, Mum. I've a branch + there.</font>"</p> + </div> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page174" id="page174"></a>[pg 174]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/167.png"><img width="100%" src="images/167.png" + alt="Will you get the twopence back?" /></a> + <p class="center"><font class="sc">"Oh, Mummy, will you get the + twopence back?"</font></p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>THE ROOM AT THE BACK.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>[A story of the supernatural, which should not be read late at night + by persons of weak nerves.]</p> + + </blockquote> + <p>Outwardly, "Chatholme" was as all the other villas in Dunmoral Avenue, + which were just detached enough to allow the butcher's boy to squeeze + himself and his basket—and perhaps the cook—between any two + of them, and differed from each other in nothing but names, numbers and + window-curtains.</p> + + <p>And the interior of the house, when the Pottigrews took possession of + it, seemed equally commonplace. There is no need to show you all over it, + but if you intend to peruse this narrative, in spite of the warning + above, it is desirable that you should at least inspect the + ground-floor.</p> + + <p>On one side of the hall, which was faintly illumined in the daytime by + a fanlight, was the drawing-room; on the other side was the dining-room, + and behind the dining-room was a smaller room with a French-window + looking on to the back-garden, which probably was described by the + house-agents as the "morning-room," but was by Mr. Pottigrew designated + his "study."</p> + + <p>Prosaic enough, you will say. And yet there was that about the + ground-floor of "Chatholme" which was anything but matter-of-fact, as the + Pottigrews began to discover before they had been in residence many + days.</p> + + <p>Mrs. Pottigrew was the first to "sense" something out of the ordinary. + She was of Manx origin, and therefore peculiarly sensitive to + "influences;" one of those uncomfortable people who cannot visit such + places as Hampton Court or the Tower without vibrating like + harp-strings.</p> + + <p>Mr. Pottigrew, however, was of the duller fibre of which cyclists + rather than psychists are made; and when, on his return from the City one + afternoon, his wife tried to get him to appreciate a certain eeriness in + the atmosphere of the new home, he sniffed it dutifully, and declared + that he could detect nothing but a confounded smell of onions.</p> + + <p>"That's because they <i>won't</i> remember to shut the kitchen door," + Mrs. Pottigrew explained. "But—"</p> + + <p>"Well, it can't be the drains, because they've just been tested," said + Mr. Pottigrew impatiently. And, like a stout materialist, he muttered, + "Imagination!" as he strolled away to the sanctuary of his study, little + guessing how his own imagination was about to be stimulated.</p> + + <p>(Look here—this is where the creepy business begins. If, on + consideration, you feel you'd rather read about cricket or politics or + something, I'll excuse you.)</p> + + <p>A little later, as Mrs. Pottigrew was crossing the hall, she was + stopped short by a strange, gasping choky sound which came from the + study. There followed the crash of a chair being overturned; the door + opened and her husband staggered out with scared eyes in a face as white + as marble, and beads of sweat on his brow.</p> + + <p>When a stiff brandy had restored the power of speech to Mr. Pottigrew, + he described the remarkable and alarming seizure he had just + experienced.</p> + + <p>He had turned his arm-chair to the French-window, he said, with the + intention of enjoying a quiet smoke, and no sooner had he seated himself + and leaned back than an indescribable feeling of suffocation had crept + upon him, and at the same time he had been aware of a curious loss of + control over his jaws, so that he had been unable to prevent his mouth + opening to its widest extent. When he had tried to rise to his feet an + invisible force had seemed to be holding him down, and it was only by a + tremendous effort of will that he had managed to keep his senses and + struggle to the door.</p> + + <p>He resolutely refused to see a doctor, but, deciding that the attack + was a warning that he had been overdoing it, he retired forthwith to bed. + By the morning he felt so well that he prescribed for himself a few quiet + days by the sea. And so he packed his bag and took himself off by an + early train to Brighton.</p> + + <p>That afternoon was marked by another disagreeable occurrence. After + the way of her kind, Mrs. Pottigrew's Aunt Charlotte was attracted by the + idea of using a room from which normally the female members of the + household were excluded. So she took her needlework into the study and + prepared to spend a quiet hour or so in the armchair facing the + French-window.</p> + + <p>Hardly had she settled down when she too experienced the same feeling + of suffocation and the same involuntary opening of the jaws which Mr. + Pottigrew had described. She struggled against it, but, lacking the + will-power of her robust nephew-by-marriage, she was overcome by + unconsciousness. When she came to, a little dazed and faint, a few + moments later, she was dismayed to discover that her expensive + dental-plate—a full set—was lying on the floor, shattered + beyond repair.</p> + + <p>Not being a person of vivid imagination, she attributed her transient + illness to intense sympathy with Mr. Pottigrew, and resigned herself to a + diet of slops until she could be furnished with new means of + mastication.</p> + + <p>Next day, a Saturday, came the climax. Early in the evening an urgent + telegram summoned Mr. Pottigrew back from Brighton. Hastening home, he + was received by a wife distraught.</p> + + <p>"What did I tell you?" she wailed. "Send for Sir <font + class="sc">Conan Doyle</font>. Poor dear Aubrey! The doctor is upstairs + with him."</p> + + <p>Mr. Pottigrew hurriedly ascended to the bedroom of his son and heir, a + fine healthy youth, just of an age to appreciate his father's cigars. + (This, of course, is a pre-Budget story.)</p> + + <p>The young fellow lying upon the bed smiled bravely as his father + entered, but Mr. Pottigrew was shocked to see that he smiled with + toothless gums. A grave professional-looking man rose from the bedside + and beckoned Mr. Pottigrew out of the room. <span class="pagenum"><a + name="page175" id="page175"></a>[pg 175]</span></p> + + <p>"This extraordinary case, Sir," said the doctor as he closed the door + behind him, "is the outcome of causes quite beyond the present scope of + the medical profession. The sound, strong, firm teeth—a splendid + set—of a healthy young man do not jump out of his head of their own + accord, every one of them, for any natural reason."</p> + + <p>He paused and lowered his voice as he continued: "I am afraid, Mr. + Pottigrew, however reluctant we may be to admit the possibility, that + there is no doubt that you have taken a haunted house. The previous + tenant was a dentist—poor Mr. Acres. The room which is your study + was his operating room. <i>He died in that room while administering gas + to himself preparatory to extracting his own teeth.</i>"</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/168.png"><img width="100%" src="images/168.png" + alt="Caught owt?" /></a> + <p><i>North-Country Farmer</i> (<i>to Profiteer fishing the Fell + becks</i>). "<font class="sc">Caught owt?</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Profiteer.</i> "<font class="sc">I've not actually landed any, + but think I had a rise—unless it was the splash from my + minnow.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h4>Mrs. Gamp Rediviva.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Nurse; 39; experienced bottle fed; £40 to £50."—<i>Daily + Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> + +<h4>Speeding the Parting Guest.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Oban is proving an attractive centre, for Lord ——, Lady + —— and many others have departed thence during the last day + or so."—<i>Daily Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>We think it only kind to suppress the names.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"All new demands for capital, whether for private or public purposes, + had been met out of the sayings of the people."—<i>Daily + Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>Mr. Punch may perhaps be permitted to mention that he has himself + given currency to a number of capital stories.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"It is to be hoped that, now that their unhappy country is in the + throes of the most ghastly terror of her history, the irreconcilable + elements in the Irish nation will see an all-compelling reason for + exercising the demon of strife.—<i>Indian Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>Unfortunately they seem to be doing so only too freely.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>ANOTHER WAR TO END WAR.</h3> + + <blockquote> + <p>[An address to the League of Nations on learning that it is + considering a scheme to tackle the rat plague.]</p> + + </blockquote> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Not yours to lure the lands of Cross or Crescent</p> + <p class="i2">Back from Bellona where she bangs her drum,</p> + <p>Nor make this Hades, anyhow at present,</p> + <p class="i10">The New Elysium.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For still the sword gleams mightier than the pen in</p> + <p class="i2">Europe, you'll notice, at the Bolshies' beck;</p> + <p>Confess now that the case of Mr. <font class="sc">Lenin</font></p> + <p class="i10">Gets you right in the neck.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So I have read with wondrous satisfaction,</p> + <p class="i2">Feeling in this your hands are far from tied,</p> + <p>That you propose to emulate the action</p> + <p class="i10">Of <i>Hamelin's Piper (Pied)</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And, though the task prove hard and ever harder,</p> + <p class="i2">From your crusade, I trust, you'll never cease</p> + <p>Till you've restored good-will to every larder</p> + <p class="i10">And to each pantry peace.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then, when the cocksure critic in his crudeness</p> + <p class="i2">Pops you the question while his back he pats,</p> + <p>"What have you done?" you'll find at last, thank goodness,</p> + <p class="i10">One ready answer—"Rats!"</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Puccinni's three one-act operas, erroneously described as a + typtich...."—<i>Evening Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>But what about the spelling of "Puccinni"? We fear our contemporary + has, after all, been caught triptyching.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page176" id="page176"></a>[pg 176]</span> + +<h2>HOW TO BUILD A HOUSE.</h2> + + <p>The only way to build a house properly is to employ an architect to + build it for you. All the best houses are built by architects—any + architect will tell you that. But of course you will always be allowed to + say that <i>you</i> built it, so it will come to the same thing.</p> + + <p>The walls of an architect's office are covered with drawings of + enormous public buildings which the architect has erected in every + capital of Europe. There are also a few of the statelier homes of England + which he has put up in his spare time.</p> + + <p>While you are waiting you compare these with your own scheme of the + six-roomed villa you propose to build.</p> + + <p>At last you are ushered into the presence and unless a stove-pipe + protruding from your waistcoat pocket suggests that you are travelling in + somebody's radiators you will probably be asked to sit down, and may even + be given a cigarette. There is no difficulty in opening your business. + The architect can see at a glance what you have come for and says quite + simply, "You want to build a house?"</p> + + <p>"I do," you reply.</p> + + <p>"How many reception rooms?"</p> + + <p>This rather staggers you. You had not intended to have any reception + rooms at all. You never give receptions. All you wanted was a dining-room + and a drawing-room, and a study with a round window over the + fire-place.</p> + + <p>But it is evidently impossible to confide this to the architect. All + you can do is to reply as naturally as you can:—</p> + + <p>"About half-a-dozen."</p> + + <p>"Eight reception rooms," says the architect. "And how many + bedrooms?"</p> + + <p>"I don't really know; about one each."</p> + + <p>"Twenty bedrooms," suggests the architect (there are three in your + family). "And did you say a garage to hold two cars?"</p> + + <p>By this time you realise that you are engaged in a game something like + auction bridge and so far your opponent has done all the + over-calling.</p> + + <p>"Double two cars!" you cry excitedly.</p> + + <p>"Five cars," rejoins the Architect.</p> + + <p>"Six cars!"</p> + + <p>"Garage to hold six cars," repeats the Architect, confessing defeat. + "You are, of course, aware that a house on this scale will cost you at + least twenty thousand pounds?"</p> + + <p>"Of course," you reply, and you honestly think it would be cheap at + the price.</p> + + <p>After this the only thing to do is to get away as quickly as possible. + It would be pure bathos to suggest any of your wife's labour-saving + devices, or introduce the subject of that circular bath-room with a + circular bath hanging by chains from the ceiling and a spirit-stove under + it—your pet invention. Recall a pressing engagement, shake the + architect firmly by the hand and promise to come and see him next Tuesday + about details. In the interval you can compose a letter at your leisure, + informing him that in view of the high cost of materials, etc., etc., you + have decided to postpone the building of your house, but you desire to + build <i>at once</i> a gardener's cottage (so that the gardener can be + getting the grounds into order) containing one dining-room, one + drawing-room, one study (with one round window), three bedrooms, one + circular bathroom (with one circular bath) and one tool-shed to hold one + tool.</p> + + <p>Even so you will probably have to make concessions. Your window will + be hexagonal and your bath square. But your worries are over. The + architect will choose a builder and between them they will build your + house during the next six years, which you will spend in lodgings. It is + a long time to wait, certainly, but you will find plenty of amusement in + occasionally counting the number of bricks that have been laid since last + time. And then in 1926, as you smoke your pipe in your study and gaze out + of your hexagonal window, you will not covet the Paradise of <font + class="sc">Adam</font>, the first gardener.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>RHYMES OF THE UNDERGROUND.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Adolphus Minns resides at Kew</p> + <p>And does what people ought to do.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>In boarding trains his instincts are</p> + <p>To "let 'em first get off the car,"</p> + <p>Then "hurry up" himself to enter,</p> + <p>And "pass along right down the centre."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Though nigh his destination be</p> + <p>No selfish "door-obstructor" he:</p> + <p>Rather than bear such imputation</p> + <p>He'll travel on beyond his station.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>His unexceptionable ways</p> + <p>E'en liftmen have been known to praise—</p> + <p>A folk censorious and, as such,</p> + <p>Not given to praising over-much.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Small need have they to shout a grim</p> + <p>"No smoking in the lift" at him,</p> + <p>Or ask if he's the only one</p> + <p>For whom the lift is being run.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Adolphus Minns, who lives at Kew,</p> + <p>Does all that people ought to do—</p> + <p>Retires to bed before eleven,</p> + <p>Is up and shaved by half-past seven—</p> + <p>And, when he dies, he'll go to Heaven.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Perhaps he's gone; I've never met</p> + <p>His like at Kew or elsewhere yet.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE DISSIMULATION OF SUZANNE.</h2> + + <p>The telephone bell rang just as I was beginning breakfast.</p> + + <p>"What is your number, please?" asked an imperious voice.</p> + + <p>In an emergency I never can remember my own number.</p> + + <p>"Just hold on a minute while I look it up," I begged. Feverishly I + turned over the leaves of the telephone directory and, cutting with a + blunt finger the page containing the small advertisement that keeps my + name before the public eye, at last found and transmitted the desired + information.</p> + + <p>"Don't go away," said the voice again, this time with a shade of + weariness in its tone. "Chesterminster wants you."</p> + + <p>I wasn't going away, because before Suzanne left me to visit her + relatives in Middleshire I had vowed that nothing would induce me to do + so. But Chesterminster wanted me. What should that portend?</p> + + <p>"Tell them," I declaimed into the mouthpiece while I instinctively + posed for the camera, "that I feel greatly honoured by their invitation + and in other circumstances I should have been delighted to come forward + as their Candidate. The Parliamentary history of Chesterminster + constitutes one of the most romantic chapters in the chronicles of + England; but just now I am busy writing verses for next week's <i>Back + Chat</i>, so—"</p> + + <p>"If you will keep on talking to yourself you won't get connected," + interrupted the voice. "You're thr-r-rough, Chesterminster."</p> + + <p>"Are you Chelsea niner-seven-double-seven?" inquired a new voice, a + little more distant but not so haughty.</p> + + <p>"No, nine I mean niner-double-seven-seven," I replied.</p> + + <p>"Same thing," said the voice of Chesterminster. "Stokehampton wants + you."</p> + + <p>"Tell them—" I began, but my oratory was drowned by a rapid + succession of small explosions, and out of this unholy crepitation + emerged a still small voice which said, "Is that you, darling?" Then I + suddenly remembered that Stokehampton is Suzanne's relatives' nearest + town of call.</p> + + <p>"They want you to come tomorrow for the week-end," said Suzanne. "I + lied to them and said you were busy working, but they said you can have + the library to yourself whenever you want it, and spoke so nicely about + you that I couldn't refuse to ring you up. Besides, I want you to come, + and the figs and the mulberries are in splendid form."</p> + + <p>Suzanne knows that my idea of Heaven is a garden full of fig-trees and + mulberry-bushes at the appropriate season of the year. But it was raining + hard, and I abominate week-ends; and Suzanne's relatives are well-meaning + folk who always want to arrange your day for you.</p> + + <p>"No, Suzanne," I said, "emphatically, no. I can't think of a + convincing excuse at the moment, so you'd better say I'll be delighted to + come. But tomorrow morning you'll get a wire from me announcing that I'm + sick of the palsy—no, malaria, which they know I sometimes + get—and that'll give you a good ground for returning yourself + tomorrow. Your three minutes is up. Good-bye."</p> + + <p>With the inspiration still fresh upon me I wrote out the telegram and + rang for Evangeline.</p> + + <p>"Evangeline," I said, "I may possibly be detained in bed tomorrow + morning. In case that should happen"—she never betrayed even a + flicker of the eye, although she could, an she would, tell Suzanne some + damning tales of late rising during her absence—please send this + telegram off before breakfast; that is, before <i>your</i> + breakfast."</p> + + <p>Evangeline curtseyed and withdrew. I had spent my leisure moments + during the week teaching her the trick, as a surprise for Suzanne on her + return.</p> + + <p>Next morning, as I lay in bed thinking out the subject of my next + Message to the Nation, I was gratified to notice that the rain had ceased + and the sun was shining genially. I thought of Suzanne and the refreshing + fruit in Suzanne's relatives' attractive gardens. Should I go after all? + I rang the bell.</p> + + <p>"Has that wire gone yet?" I asked.</p> + + <p>"Indeed I took it these two hours back," replied Evangeline.</p> + + <p>I looked at my watch and grunted.</p> + + <p>"Bring me a telegram-form," I commanded, "and some hotter hot + water."</p> + + <p>So, having wired to Suzanne: "Malaria false alarm only passing effects + of overwork coming by the one-thirty <font class="sc">Percival</font>," I + found myself at tea-time being nursed back to health on + mulberries-and-cream administered by the solicitous hands of + Aunt-by-acquisition Lucy.</p> + + <p>"Well," I said to Suzanne a little later as we strolled in the + direction of the fig-trees, "how did it go off—my first wire, I + mean?"</p> + + <p>"Oh, I think I did it very well," she replied; "I gave a most + realistic exhibition of wifely concern, and the car had just come to take + me to the station when your second wire arrived."</p> + + <p>"Then they didn't spot anything?"</p> + + <p>"No," said Suzanne—"no, I don't think so."</p> + + <p>After dinner that night I was playing billiards with Toby, who is + Suzanne's aunt's nephew-by-marriage. We had the room to ourselves.</p> + + <p>"Dull part of the world this," he remarked. "By the way, what about + that malaria of yours?"</p> + + <p>"What about it?" I observed shortly.</p> + + <p>"Comes and goes rather suddenly, doesn't it?"</p> + + <p>"Very," I agreed. "It's one of the suddenest diseases ever + invented."</p> + + <p>"'Invented' is a good word," said Toby. "You're a bit of an inventor, + aren't you?"</p> + + <p>"What do you mean? Are you venturing to imply—"</p> + + <p>"I imply nothing. I merely state that this morning Suzanne came down + to breakfast in her travelling-clothes. And that wasn't all."</p> + + <p>"Wasn't it?" I inquired weakly. "Tell me the worst."</p> + + <p>"All through breakfast," continued Toby with relish, "she was restless + and off her feed, and appeared to be listening for something. Afterwards + nothing could induce her to leave the house, and I myself caught her + surreptitiously studying the time-table. Every time a step was heard + coming up the drive she started to her feet. At last a telegraph-boy + arrived. Before anybody could discover whom the wire was addressed to, + Suzanne snatched it from the boy, tore it open, placed her hand in the + region of her heart and exclaimed, 'Oh, how provoking! Poor + Percival's—' then she turned it the right way up, looked + unutterably foolish and meekly handed it over to Aunt Lucy. It was from + the old lady's stockbroker and referred to some transaction or other in + Housing Bonds."</p> + + <p>"And what did Aunt Lucy say?" I asked.</p> + + <p>"Oh, she just looked the least little bit surprised," replied Toby, + "but she didn't utter. Suzanne had to embrace the muddiest of all the + cocker pups to hide her flaming cheeks."</p> + + <p>"Well, what happened then?"</p> + + <p>"Then? Oh, then the telegraph-boy fished out another wire from his + wallet. I took it, glanced at the envelope and handed it to Suzanne. This + time she read it very gingerly before exclaiming in a highly unemotional + voice: 'Oh, how provoking! Poor Percival's got one of his sudden attacks + of malaria and can't come. So, if you don't mind, Aunt Lucy, I'll catch + the eleven-fifteen back.' Aunt Lucy was very sympathetic and went up to + help her with her packing, which was accomplished in a surprisingly short + time; as a matter of fact she had practically done it all before + breakfast. Just as she was going to drive off to the station up came + another telegraph-boy. That was your second wire, and Suzanne didn't seem + any too pleased to receive it. I'm not at all convinced," concluded Toby, + "that your wife would make her fortune on the stage."</p> + + <p>"Do you think Aunt Lucy suspects?" I asked.</p> + + <p>"Bless you, no. The dear old thing has the heart of a child."</p> + + <p>Maybe, but I have my doubts. Suzanne's aunt insisted on my staying a + week as a preventive against a nervous breakdown, and the tonic with + which she herself dosed me several times a day was the most repulsive + beverage I had ever tasted, effectually ruining the savour of figs and + mulberries. Can it be that Aunt Lucy is not only of a suspicious but also + of a revengeful nature?</p> + + <p>Suzanne ridicules my doublings and declares that she could make her + aunt swallow anything. I wish she could have made her swallow my + tonic.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page177" id="page177"></a>[pg 177]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/170.png"><img width="100%" src="images/170.png" + alt="THE QUESTION OF THE YACHTING CAP." /></a> + <h3>THE QUESTION OF THE YACHTING CAP.</h3> + + <p>HE DIDN'T WANT TO LOOK LIKE EVERY TOM, DICK AND HARRY, HE SAID, SO + HE DECIDED TO GO IN HIS YACHTING CAP.</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page178" id="page178"></a>[pg 178]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:33%;"> + <a href="images/171.png"><img width="100%" src="images/171.png" + alt="BRITISH ASSOCIATION DELEGATES" /></a> + <p>BRITISH ASSOCIATION DELEGATES DISCUSSING ORIGIN OF STREET ARAB'S + EJACULATION, "YAH-YAH-YAH-SHR-R-RUP!"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + + <blockquote> + <p><font class="sc">Kameneff</font> to <font class="sc">Krassin</font> + (on applying for passports): "<i>Cras ingens iterabimus æquor.</i>"</p> + + </blockquote> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page179" id="page179"></a>[pg 179]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/172.png"><img width="100%" src="images/172.png" + alt="I can see in the dark." /></a> + <div class="i16"> + <p><i>Host.</i> <font class="sc">"Half a minute! I'll light you to the + gate; it's very dark."</font></p> + + <p><i>Cheerful Guest.</i> <font class="sc">"That's all right. I can see + in the dark. Why, when I was in Flanders—"</font></p> + + <p><i>Host.</i> <font class="sc">"Yes, yes; but you're not in Flanders + now—you're in my carnation bed."</font></p> + </div> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</p> + + <p>It would certainly have been a thousand pities if the coming of Peace + had deprived us of anything so cheerfully stimulating as the tales of + "<font class="sc">Sapper</font>" (<font class="sc">Cyril McNeile</font>). + His <i>Bull-Dog Drummond</i> (<font class="sc">Hodder and + Stoughton</font>) shows all the old breathless invention as active as + ever, while the pugnacity—to give it no stronger term—is + wholly unrestrained, even by what might seem the unpromising atmosphere + of Godalming in 1919. It would, of course, be utterly beyond my scope to + give in barest outline any list of the wild and whirling events that + begin when <i>Captain Hugh Drummond</i> selects the most encouraging of + the answers to his "Bored ex-soldier" advertisement and meets the writer, + a cryptic but lovely lady, in the Carlton lounge. (Judging by + contemporary fiction, what histories could those walls reveal!) After + that the affair almost instantly develops into one lurid sequence of + battle, murder, bluff and the kind of ten-minutes-here-for-courtship + which proves that there is a gentler side even to the process of tracking + crime. As usual, though less in this business than most, because of the + engaging humour of the hero, I experienced a mild sympathy for the + arch-villains; and indeed they might well feel some bitterness when, + after being described as the master-intellects of the age, the author + required them to conduct their most secret affairs in a lighted + ground-floor room with the curtains undrawn. Most of them turn out to be + Bolshevists, or at least in the receipt of Soviet subsidies—though + I see a well-known Labour Daily reviewed the plot as unconvincing. Odd! + Anyhow, a rattling story.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>I am aware that, in confessing to an entire ignorance of any one of + the so-called <i>Books of Artemas</i>, I place myself in a minority so + small as to be almost beneath notice. This certainly is how the + publishers regard the matter if one may judge by their ecstatically + jubilant, "Artemas has written a novel! 7<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> net," on + the wrapper of <i>A Dear Fool</i> (<font class="sc">Westall</font>). + Well, I have read the novel carefully, even I trust generously, with the + unhappy result that (knowing how elusive and individual a thing is + laughter) I can hardly bring myself to say how dull I found it. But the + fact remains. It is all about nothing—a preposterous little plot + for the identification, at a wildly inhuman reception, of an anonymous + dramatist, revealed finally as the journalist hero who was nearly sacked + for writing the play's only bad notice. In my day I have met both editors + and critics; even dramatists. I don't say they were all pleasant people; + many of them were not. But—here is my point—practically every + one of them had at least sufficient of our common humanity to prevent + them from behaving for one instant as their representatives do in this + book. Let us charitably leave it at that. Probably the next man I meet + will have invited apoplexy over his enjoyment of the same pages that + moved me only to an irritated bewilderment. You never can tell.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page180" id="page180"></a>[pg 180]</span> + + <p>I rather think that <i>The Man with the Rubber Soles</i> (<font + class="sc">Hodder and Stoughton</font>) is Sir <font class="sc">Alexander + Bannerman's</font> firstling, at least as far as fiction is concerned. If + so, many others will share my hope that it may prove to be the eldest of + a large family. For the author has not merely the knack of telling a good + mystery story in a way that keeps one interested until the last page is + turned; he tells it in a curiously dry matter-of-fact way that makes + really startling adventures seem the sort of thing that might happen to + anybody. The story concerns the pursuit of a gang of men who are engaged + in importing forged Treasury notes on a large scale and uttering them + through skilfully organised agencies. The police and various civilians + between them—there is no super-sleuth to weary us with his + machine-like prowess—run the thing to earth, partly by skill and + partly by good luck, and the civilians in particular have a stirring time + doing it. Bombs, automatic pistols, even soldiers and a submarine, assist + quite naturally in sustaining the interest. And a pleasant little romance + is really woven into the plot, not just pushed in anyhow. Altogether + <i>The Man with the Rubber Soles</i> is a most excellent story of its + kind, a real novel because plot and treatment are alike new, and one can + safely prophesy that when Sir <font class="sc">Alexander Bannerman</font> + produces his nextling he will find a large and appreciative circle of + readers waiting to welcome it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Three things charmed me particularly about <i>Henry Elizabeth</i> + (<font class="sc">Hurst and Blackett</font>), whose remarkable second + name was due to the fact that he was born in the same year as the Virgin + Queen and that his father had hoped that he too would be a girl. In the + first place he became the greatest swordsman of his age and I was thus + able to add him to my fine collection of Elizabethan heroes who have + achieved this honour. What happens when two of these champions meet in + those shadowy regions of romance where all costume novels are merged I do + not know. It must be rather like the irresistible force and the immovable + object. In the second place <i>H.E.</i> (no one could better deserve + these formidable initials) was given the job of clearing Lundy Island of + its piratical tenants, and I happened to have Lundy Island just opposite + me as I read the book. It is not often that a reviewer has the chance of + checking local colour with so little pains. And in the third place Mr. + <font class="sc">Justin Huntly McCarthy</font> informs me, on page 101, + that his hero will "gaze one day upon rivers to which the Thames should + seem little better than a pitiful rivulet." As <i>Henry</i> never gets + further from his native Devon than London in the course of this novel I + take it that this is a delicate allusion to the possibility of a sequel. + I hope it is so, and that I shall hear of <i>Henry</i> in days to come, + after a trip or two with <font class="sc">Raleigh</font> or <font + class="sc">Drake</font>, rebuilding his manor of Braginton, which was + unfortunately burnt to the ground, and settling down to plant potatoes + and tobacco in prosperity and peace.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>From the title, <i>Brute Gods</i> (<font class="sc">Heinemann</font>), + you may guess that Mr. <font class="sc">Louis Wilkinson's</font> new + novel does not deal with homely topics in a vein of harmless frolic. In + recommending this very serious work of an expert author and observer, I + am bound to make some reservation. Unsophisticated youth, if such there + be in these days, should be kept away from the affair between <i>Alec + Glaive</i> and <i>Gillian Collett</i>. <i>Alec</i>, a mere boy, was in a + dangerously unsettled condition when the lady crossed his path. His + mother had upset a not too happy family by eloping with a literary + <i>poseur</i>; the egoism of his father had been rendered even more + oppressive and his sarcasm even more acid thereby; and a Roman Catholic + priest, intent on securing a convert for his Order, had been plying his + young mind with too exciting conversations and too refreshing wines. + Apart from external circumstances, <i>Alec</i> was tending to quarrel + with humanity at large, and so he went the whole hog, more in search of a + desperate ideal than by way of impetuous sin. Mr. <font + class="sc">Wilkinson</font> treats the affair with deliberate, + cold-blooded, even cynical analysis; and his portrayal of the snobbery + and humbug of the upper-middle class, social and intellectual, in which + his creatures move is searching and disturbing. But, I ask myself, are + people really like that? Or rather are there enough of these unnaturals, + extremists, moral Bolshevists or whatever you like to call them, to + justify their presentation as a modern type? Always an optimist, I think + not; and I notice that the author gives a no less clever and a much more + convincing impression of the normal, settled and pleasant characters who + are incidental to the plot. Make for yourself the acquaintance of the + charming <i>Wilfred Vail</i> and the most amusing and seductive Cockney + artiste, <i>Betty Barnfield</i>, and you will admit, however pessimistic + your views, that there may be something in mine.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/173.png"><img width="100%" src="images/173.png" + alt="ROMANCE AND PROSE." /></a> + <p class="center">ROMANCE AND PROSE.</p> + + <p><i>The Youth.</i> <font class="sc">"Can you direct me to the Castle + of the Black Mountain?"</font></p> + + <p><i>The Old Man.</i> <font class="sc">"I can, young man. But + perchance thou goest to seek the hand of the Princess? Beware, rash + youth! It is a perilous adventure. Thou wilt be required to achieve + many dangerous tasks. Hast thou thought of the risk?"</font></p> + + <p><i>The Youth.</i> <font class="sc">"Not much. I'm goin' to mend the + kitchen boiler."</font></p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h4>Palmam Qui Meruit Ferat.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"The Czecho-Slovaks were greeted this afternoon by a committee of + Vancouver ladies, representing the Red Cross Society. The war-worn + veterans were presented with a package containing cigarettes, an orange + and a chocolate bar, in recognition of valuable services rendered the + Allied cause."—<i>Canadian Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"PRINCE GEORGE IN SWEDEN.</p> + + <p>Prince George has been enjoying the sights of Christiania and its + beautiful surroundings."—<i>Morning Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>He should now visit Stockholm and give Norway a turn.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Gentleman, no ties, will undertake any mission to + anywhere."—<i>Provincial Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>But surely not where neck-wear is <i>de rigueur</i>.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +159, September 1st, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 16717-h.htm or 16717-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/7/1/16717/ + +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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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. 159, September 1st, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: September 18, 2005 [EBook #16717] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Keith Edkins and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 159. + + + +September 1st, 1920. + + + + +CHARIVARIA. + +A Newcastle miner who was stated to be earning a pound a day has been fined +ten pounds for neglecting his children. The idea of waiting till September +20th and letting Mr. SMILLIE neglect them does not seem to have occurred to +him. + +* * * + +"Beyond gardening," says a gossip writer, "Mr. SMILLIE has few hobbies." At +the same time there is no doubt he is busy getting together a fine +collection of strikes. + +* * * + +It is said that AMUNDSEN will not return to civilisation this year. If he +was thinking of Ireland he isn't missing any civilisation worth mentioning. + +* * * + +"The POET LAUREATE," says a weekly paper, "has not written an ode to +British weather." So that can't be the cause of it. + +* * * + +A Wolverhampton man weighing seventeen stone, in charging another with +assault, said he heard somebody laughing at him, so he looked round. A man +of that weight naturally would. + +* * * + +"There is work for everybody who likes to work," says Mr. N. GRATTAN DOYLE, +M.P. It is this tactless way of rubbing it in which annoys so many people. + +* * * + +A contemporary has a letter from a correspondent who signs himself "Tube +Traveller of Twenty Years' Standing." Somebody ought to offer the poor +fellow a seat. + +* * * + +In connection with the case of a missing railway-porter one railway line +has decided to issue notices warning travellers against touching porters +while they are in motion. + +* * * + +"The United States," declares the proprietor of a leading New York hotel, +"is on the eve of going wet again." A subtle move of this kind, with the +object of depriving drink of its present popularity, is said to be making a +strong appeal to the Prohibitionists. + +* * * + +One London firm is advertising thirty thousand alarum-clocks for sale at +reduced prices. There is now no excuse for any workman being late at a +strike. + +* * * + +A centenarian in the Shetlands, says a news agency, has never heard of Mr. +LLOYD GEORGE. We have no wish to brag, but we have often seen his name +mentioned. + +* * * + +Professor PETRIE'S statement that the world will only last another two +hundred thousand years is a sorry blow to those who thought that _Chu Chin +Chow_ was in for a long run. Otherwise the news has been received quietly. + +* * * + +"Nothing useful is ever done in the House of Commons," says a Labour +speaker. He forgets that the cleaners are at work in the building just now. + +* * * + +We are informed that at the Bricklaying contest at the Olympic Games a +British bricklayer lost easily. + +* * * + +"A dress designer," says a Camomile Street dressmaker in _The Evening +News_, "must be born." We always think this is an advantage. + +* * * + +A gossip-writer points out that Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL'S earliest ambition +was to be an actor. Our contemporary is wise not to disclose the name of +the man who talked him out of it. + +* * * + +"Whatever price is fixed it is impossible to get stone in any quantity," +says a building trade journal. They have evidently not heard of our +coal-dealer. + +* * * + +"Nothing of any value has been gained by the War," complains a daily paper. +This slur on the O.B.E. is in shocking taste. + +* * * + +A Sunday newspaper deplores that there seems to be no means of checking the +crime-wave which is still spreading throughout the country. If only the +Government would publish the amount of American bacon recently purchased by +the Prisons' Department things might tend to improve. + +* * * + +"There is still a great shortage of gold in the country," announces a +weekly paper. It certainly seems as if our profiteers will soon have to be +content with having their teeth stopped with bank-notes. + +* * * + +We regret to learn that the amateur gardener whose marrows were awarded the +second prize for cooking-apples at a horticultural show is still confined +to his bed. + +* * * + +A neck-ruffle originally worn by QUEEN ELIZABETH has been stolen from a +house in Manchester and has not yet been recovered. Any reader noticing a +suspicious-looking person wearing such an article over her _decollete_ +should immediately communicate with the nearest police-station. + +* * * + +Hair tonic, declares the Washington Chief of Police, is growing in +popularity as a beverage. The danger of this habit has been widely +advertised by the sad case of a Chicago man who drank three shampoo +cocktails and afterwards swallowed a hair in his soup. + +* * * + +The mystery of the City gentleman who has been noticed lately going up to +public telephones and getting immediate answers is now solved. It appears +that he is a well-known ventriloquist with a weakness for practical jokes. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "I NEVER ORDERED IT--AND I WON'T PAY FOR IT."] + + * * * * * + + "According to the latest census returns, the population of New York + City is now L5,621,000."--_Indian Paper._ + +In dollars, of course, it would be considerably more. + + * * * * * + + "The Royal Dutch Mail steamer Stuyvesant will leave on Monday at 5 a.m. + for Havre and Amsterdam. The tender leaves the Lighthouse Jetty at 8 + a.m. punctually with passengers."--_West Indian Paper._ + +Rather a mean trick to play on them. + + * * * * * + + "The Chairman said the Council had never paid one penny for the oiling + and washing of the fire brigade."--_Local Paper._ + +It is understood that while the noble fellows do not object to washing at +reasonable intervals, they strongly deprecate oiling as unnecessarily +adding to the risks of their dangerous calling. + + * * * * * + +MR. SMILLIE'S LITTLE ARMAGEDDON. + + Shall she, the England unafraid, + That came by steady courage through + The toughest war was ever made + And wiped the earth with WILLIAM TWO + (Who, though it strikes us now as odd, + Was, in his way, a sort of little god)-- + + Shall she that stood serene and firm, + Sure of her will to stay and win, + Cry "Comrade!" on her knees and squirm + To lesser gods of cheaper tin, + Spreading herself, a _corpus vile_, + Under the prancing heels of Mr. SMILLIE? + + Humour forbids! And even they + Who toil beneath the so-called sun, + Yet often in an eight-hours' day + Indulge a quiet sense of fun-- + These too can see, however dim, + The joke of starving just for SMILLIE'S whim. + + And here I note what looks to be + A rent in Labour's sacred fane; + The priestly oracles disagree, + And, when a house is split in twain, + Ruin occurs--ay! there's the rub + Alike for Labour and Beelzebub. + + And anyhow I hope that, where + At red of dawn on Rigi's height + He jodels to the astonished air, + LLOYD GEORGE is bent on sitting tight; + Nor, as he did in THOMAS' case, + Nurses a scheme for saving SMILLIE'S face. + + Why should his face be saved? indeed, + Why should he have a face at all? + But, if he _must_ have one to feed + And smell with, let the man install + A better kind, and thank his luck + That _all_ his headpiece hasn't come unstuck. + + O.S. + + * * * * * + +A WHIFF OF THE BRINY. + +As I entered the D.E.F. Company's depot, Melancholy marked me for her own. +Business reasons--not my own but the more cogent business reasons of an +upperling--had just postponed my summer holiday; postponed it with a lofty +vagueness to "possibly November. We might be able to let you go by then, my +boy." November! What would Shrimpton-on-Sea be like even at the beginning +of November? Lovely sea-bathing, delicious boating, enchanting picnics on +the sand? I didn't think. Melancholy tatooed me all over with anchors and +pierced hearts, to show that I was her very own, not to be taken away. + +I clasped my head in my hands and gazed in dumb agony at the menu card. A +kind waitress listened with one ear. + +"Poached egg and bacon--two rashers," I murmured. + +While I waited I crooned softly to myself:-- + + "Poor disappointed Georgie. Life seems so terribly sad. + All the bacon and eggs in the world, dear, won't make you a happy lad." + +When the dish was brought I eyed it sadly. Sadly I raised a mouthful of +bacon to my lips.... + +Swish!!! The exclamation-marks signify the suddenness with which the train +swept into the station. I leapt down on to the platform and drew a long +breath. The sea! In huge whiffs the ozone rolled into my nostrils. I +gurgled with delight. Everything smelt of the dear old briny: the little +boys running about with spades and pails; the great basketsful of fish; the +blue jerseys of the red-faced men who, at rare intervals, toiled upon the +deep. At the far end of the platform I saw the reddest face of all, that of +my dear old landlord. I rushed to meet him.... + +Ah me, ah me! The incrusted-papered walls of the depot girt me in again. I +took another mouthful of bacon--a larger one.... + +Bang! Someone was thumping on the door of my bathing-machine. What a +glorious scent of salt rose from the sea-washed floor! "Are you coming +out?" asked a persuasive voice. "No, no, no!" I shouted joyously. "I am +going in." What a dive! I never knew before how superlatively graceful my +dives could be. Away through the breakers with a racing stroke. Over on my +back, kicking fountains at the sun. In this warm water I should stay in for +hours and hours and.... + +Pah! That horrible incrusted paper back again! I bolted the remaining +rasher.... + +The boat rocked gently in a glassy sea. They were almost climbing over the +gunwale in their eagerness to be caught. Lovely wet shining wriggly +fellows; all the varieties of the fishmonger's slab and more. In season or +out, they didn't care; they thought only of doing honour to my line. No +need in future for me to envy the little boys on the river-bank who pulled +in fish after fish when I never got a bite. How delightfully salt the fish +smelt! And the sun drew out the scent of salt from the gently lapping +waves. It was all so quiet and restful. Almost could I have slumbered, even +as I pulled them in and in and.... + +The waitress must have giggled. Once again the incrusted paper leered at me +in ail its horrible pink incrustiness. There was no bacon left on my plate. +But the delicious scent of salt still lingered. Alas, my holiday was over! +I must speed me or I should miss the train to town. + +"Good-bye!" I shouted to the manageress and shook her by the hand. She +seemed surprised. "Such a happy time," I assured her. "I wish I could have +it all over again." + +She said something which I could not hear. Sea-bathing tends to make me a +little deaf. + +"If I have forgotten anything--my pyjamas or my shaving strop--would you be +so kind as to send them on? Good-bye again." + +Something fluttered to the floor. The manageress stooped. I was just +passing through the portals. + +"You have forgotten this," she called. + +It was the dear little square piece of paper which contained my bill. I +looked at it in amazement. + +"What!" I exclaimed--"only one-and-twopence for a poached egg and bacon and +all that salt flavour thrown in?" + + * * * * * + +OUR MODEST ADVERTISERS. + + "European lady (widow), rather lovely, would like to hear from Army + Officer or Civilian in a similar position, with a view to keeping up a + congenial correspondence."--_Indian Paper._ + + * * * * * + + "A correspondent in the Air Force writes from Bangalore:-- + + 'It is rather amusing to notice the number of people in the English + community who have never before seen an aeroplane coming up to the + aerodrome and gazing in wonder at the old buses.'"--_Evening Standard._ + +Even in England this spectacle is still the object of remark. + + * * * * * + + "We really feel inclined to parody Kipling and say-- + + 'One hand stuck in your dress shirt from to show heart is cline, + The other held behind your back, to signal, tax again.'" + +_Singapore Free Press._ + +We can only hope our esteemed contemporary will not feel this way again. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE ROAD TO RUIN. + +LABOUR. "WHAT'S YOUR GAME?" + +MR. SMILLIE. "I'M OUT FOR NATIONALISATION." + +LABOUR. "AH! AND YOU'RE GOING TO BEGIN BY NATIONALISING STARVATION?"] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Mrs. Smithson-Jones_ (_to her husband, who WILL garden in +his pyjamas before breakfast_). "_DO_ COME IN, ADOLPHUS; YOU'RE DELAYING +THE HARVEST."] + + * * * * * + +THE ART OF POETRY. + +IV. + +Good morning, gentlemen. Before I pass to the subject of my lecture today I +must deal briefly with a personal matter of some delicacy. Since I began +this series of lectures on the Art of Poetry I notice that the new +Professor of Poetry at Oxford, Mr. W.P. KER, in what I think is +questionable taste, has delivered an inaugural lecture on the _same_ +subject under the _same_ title. On the question of good taste I do not wish +to say much, except that I should have thought that any colleague of mine, +even an entirely new Professor in a provincial university, would have +recognised the propriety of at least communicating to me his intention +before committing this monstrous plagiarism. + +However, as I say, on that aspect of the matter I do not propose to dwell, +though it does seem to me that decency imposes certain limits to that kind +of academic piracy, and that those limits the Professor has overstepped. In +these fermenting days of licence and indiscipline persons in responsible +positions at our seats of learning have a great burden of example to bear +before the world, and if it were to go forth that actions of this type may +be taken with impunity by highly-paid Professors then indeed we are not far +from Bimetallism and the breaking-up of laws. + +Now let us glance for a moment at the substance of the lecture. I should +have been glad if Professor KER had had the courtesy to show it to me +before it was delivered, instead of my having to wait till it was printed +and buy it in a shop, because I might have induced him to repair the more +serious errors and omissions in his work. For really, when you come to +analyse the lecture, what thin and bodyless stuff it is. Let me at once pay +tribute to my colleague's scholarship and learning, to the variety of his +citations. But, after all, anyone can buy a Quotation Dictionary and quote +bits out of SWINBURNE. That surely--(see FREIDRICH'S _Crime and Quotation_, +pp. 246-9)--is not the whole task of a Professor of Poetry. + +Such a man, if he is to earn his pay, must be able-- + +(_a_) to show how poetry is written; + +(_b_) to write poetry; + +and it is no good his attempting (_a_) in the absence of (_b_). It is no +good teaching a man to slope arms if you are unable to slope arms yourself, +because a moment will come when he says, "Well, how the dickens _do_ you +slope them?" It is no good professing lawn-tennis and saying, "Top-spin is +imparted by drawing the racquet up and over," and so on, if, when you try +to impart top-spin yourself, the ball disappears on to the District +Railway. Still less is it useful if you deliver a long address to the +student, saying, "H.L. DOHERTY was a good player, and so was RENSHAW, and I +well remember the game between MCLOUGHLIN and WILDING, because WILDING hit +the ball over the net more often than MCLOUGHLIN did." + +Those students who have attended my lectures more regularly than others-- +and I am sorry there are not more of them--will do me the justice to +remember that I have put forward no theory of writing which I was not +prepared to illustrate in practice from my own work. My colleague, so far +as I can discover, makes one single attempt at practical assistance; and +even that is a minor plagiarism from one of my own lectures. He makes a +good deal of play with what he calls the principle and influence of the +Italian Canzone, which simply means having a lot of ten-syllable lines and +a few six-syllable ones. Students will remember that in our second lecture +we wrote a poem on that principle, which finished:-- + + Toroodle--umti--oodle--umti--knife (or strife) + Where have they put my hat? + +That lecture was prepared on May 27th; my colleague's lecture was delivered +on June 5th. It is clear to me that in the interval--by what discreditable +means I know not--he obtained access to my manuscript and borrowed the +idea, thinking to cloak his guilt by specious talk about the Italian +_Canzone_. The device of offering stolen goods under a new name is an old +one, and will help him little; the jury will know what to think. + +Apart from this single piece of (second-hand) instruction, what +contribution does he make to the student's knowledge of the Art of Poetry? +He makes no reference to comic poetry at all; apparently he has never +_heard_ of the Limerick, and I have the gravest doubts whether he can write +one, though that, I admit, is a severe test. I am prepared however to give +him a public opportunity of establishing his fitness for his post, and with +that end I propose to put to him the following problems, and if his answers +are satisfactory I shall most willingly modify my criticisms; but he must +write on one side of the paper only and number his pages in the top +right-hand corner. + +_The Problems._ + +(1) What is the metre of:-- + + "And the other grasshopper jumped right over the other grasshopper's + back." + +(2) Finish the uncompleted Limerick given in my Second Lecture, beginning: + + There was a young man who said "_Hell!_ + I don't think I feel very well." + +(3) In your inaugural lecture you ask, "Is it true, or not, that the great +triumphs of poetical art often come suddenly?" The answer you give is most +unsatisfactory; give a better one now, illustrating the answer from your +own works. + +(4) Write a Ballade of which the refrain is either-- + + (_a_) The situation is extremely grave; + or + (_b_) The Empire is not what it was; + or + (_c_) We lived to see Lord Birkenhead. + +NOTE.--Extra marks will be given for an attempt at (_b_) because of the +shortage of rhymes to _was_. + +(5) What would you do in the following circumstances? In May you have sent +a poem to an Editor, ending with the lines-- + + The soldiers cheered and cheered again-- + It was the PRINCE OF WALES. + +On July 20th the Editor writes and says that he likes the poem very much, +and wishes to print it in his August number, but would be glad if you could +make the poem refer to Mr. or Mrs. DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS instead of the PRINCE. +He must have the proof by the first post to-morrow as he is going to press. +Show, how you would reconstruct your last verse. + +(6) Consider the following passages-- + + (i) I love little pussy, + Her coat is so _warm_, + And if I don't hurt her + She'll do me no _harm_. + + (ii) Who put her _in_? + Little Tommy _Green_. + +(_a_) Carefully amend the above so that they rhyme properly. + +(_b_) Do you as a matter of principle approve of these kinds of rhyme? + +(_c_) If not, do you approve of them in (i) SHAKSPEARE, (ii) WORDSWORTH, +(iii) SHELLEY, (iv) Any serious classic? + +A.P.H. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Customer._ "AND I HAD ONE OF THOSE LITTLE ROUND BUN +ARRANGEMENTS." + +_Waitress._ "THAT'LL BE ANOTHER TUPPENCE." + +_Customer._ "ONE OF THOSE THAT ARE HOLLOW, YOU KNOW." + +_Waitress._ "OH--ONE OF _THEM_. THAT'LL BE FOURPENCE."] + + * * * * * + + "Four Volumes 'The Great World War,' pre-war price Rs. 40. What offers? + Perfect."--_Indian Paper._ + +A clear case of propheteering. + + * * * * * + +From an Irish Labour manifesto:-- + + "Impulsive cats, howsoever justifiable, may prove to be unwise."-- + _Irish Paper._ + +Remember what happened at Kilkenny. + + * * * * * + +THE PRIVILEGES OF MARGOTISM. + + [Something was said in _Punch_ last week about the advantage to the + reminiscencer of being his (or her) own JOHNSON and BOSWELL too. Mrs. + ASQUITH'S recent adventures with the descendants of some of her late + friends, of whose fair fame they are not less jealous than she, suggest + certain of the pitfalls incident to this double _role_, particularly + when the autobiographer is remote from his (or her) journals. Since + however an inaccuracy always has a day's start and is never completely + overtaken, while in course of time the pursuit ceases altogether, the + greatest danger is not immediate but for the future. Let us imagine a + case.] + +FROM "THE MARGOTIST'S REMINISCENCES." + +By the Author of _Statesmen I Have Influenced_; _My Wonderful Life_; _The +Souls' Awakener_; _The Elusive Diary_, _etc., etc._ + +One of my dearest friends in the early nineteen hundreds was Mr. Sadrock. I +have known eleven Prime Ministers in my time and have assurances from all, +signed and witnessed, that but for me and my vivacious encouragement they +would never have pulled through; but with none was I on terms of such close +communion as with Mr. Sadrock, who not only asked my advice on every +occasion of importance, but spent many of his waking hours in finding +rhymes to my name. Some of his four-lined couplets in my honour could not +be either wittier or more charming as compliments. + +He often averred that no one could amuse him as I did. He laughed once for +half-an-hour on end when I said, "It takes a Liberal to be a Tory;" and on +another occasion when I said, "The essence of Home Rule is, like charity, +that it begins abroad." Nothing but the circumstance that he was already +happily married prevented him from proposing to me. + +Mr. Sadrock is now to many people only a name; but in his day he was a +force to compare with which we have at this moment only one statesman and +he is temporarily out of office. + +The odd thing is that if the ordinary person were to be asked what Mr. +Sadrock was famous for, he would probably reply, For his devotion to HOMER +and the Established Church. But the joke is that when I was with him in +1902 he was frivolous on both these subjects. It was, I remember, in the +private room at the House of Commons set apart for Prime Ministers, to +which, being notoriously so socially couth, I always had a private key--the +only one ever given to a woman--and he was more than usually delightful. + +This is what was said:-- + +_MR. SADROCK_ (_mixing himself an egg nogg_). Will you join me? + +_MYSELF._ No, thank you. But I like to see you applying yourself to +Subsidiary Studies to the Art of Butler. + +_MR. SADROCK_ (_roaring with laughter_). That's very good. Some day you +must put your best things into a book. + +_MYSELF._ You bet. + +_MR. SADROCK._ I wonder why it is that you make me so frank. It is your +wonderful sympathetic understanding, I suppose. I long to tell you +something now. + +_MYSELF_ (_affecting not to care_). Do. I am secrecy itself. + +_MR. SADROCK._ Would it surprise you to know that I am privily a Dissenter? +Do you know that I often steal away in a false beard to attend the services +of Hard-Shell Baptists and Plymouth Brethren? + +_MYSELF._ I hope I am no longer capable of feeling anything so _demode_ as +surprise. + +_MR. SADROCK._ And that I prefer _Robert Elsmere_ to the _Iliad_? + +_MYSELF._ May I print those declarations in my book? + +_MR. SADROCK._ Some day, yes, but not yet, not yet. + + * * * * * + +MR. SADROCK AND NONCONFORMITY. _To the Editor of_ "_The Monday Times_." + +SIR,--I find it necessary, in the interests of truth and of respect for the +memory of my uncle, Mr. Sadrock, to contest the accuracy of the Margotist's +report of conversations with him in 1902. To begin with, my uncle died in +1898, four years before the alleged interview. She could therefore not have +talked with him in 1902; and the _locale_ of this meeting, the Prime +Minister's room, becomes peculiarly fantastic. Secondly, no member of his +family--and they saw him constantly--ever heard him utter anything +resembling the sentiments which the Margotist attributes to him. Mr. +Sadrock was both an undeviating Churchman and a devotee of HOMER to the end +of his life. + +I am, etc., THEOPHILUS SADROCK. + +THE MARGOTIST'S REPLY. + +SIR,--I have read Mr. Theophilus Sadrock's letter and am surprised by its +tone. If Mr. Sadrock did not make use of the words that I attribute to him +how could I have set them down? Because I was writing unobserved all the +time he was talking, and I could produce the notes if they were, to others, +legible enough for it to be worth while; surreptitious writing must +necessarily be indistinct at times. As for the question of time and place, +that is a mere quibble. Mr. Sadrock was alive when we had our talk, and I +am sorry if I have misdated it. The talk remains. May I add that it is very +astonishing to me to find people with the effrontery to suggest that they +knew their illustrious relatives better than strangers could. Everyone is +aware that the last place to go to for evidence as to a man is to his kith +and kin. When my book appears there will be a few corrections; but in the +main I stand by the motto which I invented for Chamberlain one evening: +"What I have written I have written." + +I am, Yours, etc., + +THE MARGOTIST. + +_The Woop._ + + * * * * * + +FROM "SADROCK: A DEFINITIVE BIOGRAPHY." + +_Published in 1940._ + +Before leaving our consideration of Sadrock's Homeric studies it is however +necessary to point out that late in life he made a very curious +recantation. In a book of memoirs, published in 1920, by one who was in a +position to acquire special information, it is stated in his own words that +Sadrock preferred _Robert Elsmere_ to the _Iliad_; while during the same +conversation he confessed to a passion for the services of Dissenters, +which, he said, he often frequented _incognito_. No biographer can +disregard such admissions, and we must revise our opinion of the great +statesman accordingly. + +E.V.L. + + * * * * * + + "SALE, Gent's Evening Suit, Tennis Trousers, Sweater, Black Silk Coat + suit elderly lady."--_Irish Paper._ + +The revolutionary movement in Ireland seems to have reached even the +fashions. + + * * * * * + + "LONDON, JULY 16. + + It is reported on reliable authority that General Wrangel has refused + to withdraw to the Cinema in compliance with the terms of the proposed + armistice.--_Statesman_ (_Calcutta_). + +It is believed that "MARY" and "DOUG." were greatly relieved to be rid of +so dangerous a rival. + + * * * * * + + "When is the demoralisation at some of our great London hotels to give + place to reasonable service and cleanliness? On every side I hear + complaints of inefficient attendance and dirty rooms. As for clean + towels in the bathroom, they appear on the Ides of March."--_Sunday + Paper._ + +At one hotel, we understand, they failed to remember the Ides of March and +are now waiting for the Greek Kalends. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE "DO-IT-YOURSELF" AGE. + +FATHER'S HOME-MADE SWEATER.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OUR SPORTING PURISTS. + +_Urchin._ "COME AN' PLAY CRICKET, ALF." + +_Alf._ "WOT! IN THE FOOTBALL SEASON?"] + + * * * * * + +THE REVOLT OF YOUTH. + +We publish a few selected letters from the mass of correspondence which has +reached us in connection with the controversy initiated by "A Bewildered +Parent" in _The Morning Post_: + +A LEGUMINOUS LAUDATION. + +SIR,--I confess I cannot share the anxiety of the "Bewildered Parent" who +complains of the child of two and a half years who addressed her learned +parent as "Old bean." As a convinced Montessorian I recognise in the +appellation a gratifying evidence of that self-expression which cannot +begin too young. Moreover there is nothing derogatory in the phrase; on the +contrary I am assured on the best authority that it is a term of endearment +rather than reproach. But, above all, as a Vegetarian I welcome the choice +of the term as an indication of the growth of the revolt against +carnivorous brutality. If the child in question had called her parent a +"saucy kipper" or "a silly old sausage" there would have been reasonable +ground for resentment. But comparison with a bean involves no obloquy, but +rather panegyric. The bean is one of the noblest of vegetables and is +exceptionally rich in calories, protein, casein, carbo-hydrates, thymol, +hexamyl, piperazine, salicylic dioxide, and permanganate of popocatapetl. +This a learned parent, if his learning was real, ought to have recognised +at once, instead of foolishly exploiting a fancied grievance. + +Yours farinaceously, + +JOSIAH VEDGELEY. + +THE OLD COMPLAINT. + +SIR,--Some sixty years ago I was rebuked by my father for addressing him as +"Governor." Thirty years later I was seriously offended with my own son for +calling me an "old mug." He in turn, though not by any means a learned man, +has within the last few weeks been irritated by his school-boy son +derisively addressing him as an "old dud." The duel between fathers and +sons is as old as the everlasting hills, and the rebels of one generation +become the fogeys of the next. I have no doubt that in moments of expansion +the young Marcellus alluded to his august parent as "_faba antiqua_." + +Yours faithfully, + +SENEX. + +A TRIPLE LIFE. + +SIR,--As a middle-aged mother I do not appeal for your sympathy, I merely +wish to describe my position, the difficulties of which might no doubt be +paralleled in hundreds of other households. I have three children whose +characteristics may be thus briefly summarised:-- + +(1) Pamela, aged nineteen, is an ultra-modern young woman. She hates +politics of all shades, but adores SCRIABINE, STRAVINSKY and BENEDETTO +CROCE. She smokes cigars, wears male attire and has a perfect command of +the art of ornamental objurgation. + +(2) Gerald, aged twenty-three, is war-weary; resentful of all authority; +"bored stiff" by any music save of the syncopated brand, and he divides his +time between Jazz-dancing with the dismal fervour of a gloomy dean and +attending meetings of pro-Bolshevist extremists. + +(3) Anthony, aged twenty-six, is a soldier, a "regular"; restrained in +speech, somewhat old-fashioned in his tastes. This summer he spent his +leave fishing in Scotland and took with him two books--the _Life of +Stonewall Jackson_ and the _Bible_. It is hardly necessary to add that +Gerald is not on speaking terms with him. + +As for myself, while anxious to keep in touch with my wayward brood, I find +the strain of accommodating myself to their varied requirements almost more +than I can stand. Pamela can only endure my companionship on the conditions +that I smoke (which makes me ill); that I emulate the excesses of her lurid +lingo (which makes me squirm), and that I paint my face (which makes me +look like a modern Messalina, which I am not). Gerald is prepared to accept +me as a "pal," provided that I play David to his Saul by regaling him on +Sunday mornings with negroid melodies, which he punctuates with snorts on +the trombone. If he knew that I went to early morning service all would be +at an end between us. Finally, Anthony wants me to remain as I was and +really am. So you see that I have to lead not a dual but a triple life, and +am only spared the necessity of making it quadruple by the fact that my +husband is fortunately dead. As Pamela gracefully remarked the other day, +"It was a good thing for poor father that he went West to sing bass in the +heavenly choir before we grew up." In conclusion I ought to admit that my +future is not without prospects of alleviation. Pamela has just announced +her engagement to an archdeacon of pronounced Evangelical views; Gerald is +meditating a prolonged tour in New Guinea with a Bolshevist mission; +Anthony contemplates neither matrimony nor expatriation. + +I am, Sir, Yours respectfully, + +A MIDDLE-AGED MOTHER. + +THE CRY OF THE CHILD AUTHOR. + +SIR,--As a novelist and dramatist whose work has met with high encomiums +from Mr. J.L. GARVIN, Mr. C.K. SHORTER, Mr. JAMES DOUGLAS and Lord HOWARD +DE WALDEN, I wish to impress upon you and your readers the hardships and +restrictions which the tyranny of parental control still imposes on +juvenile genius. Though I recently celebrated my seventh birthday, my +father and mother have firmly refused to provide me with either a latch-key +or a motor-bicycle. Owing to the lack of proper accommodation in my nursery +my literary labours are carried on under the greatest difficulties and +hampered by constant interruptions from my nurse, a vulgar woman with a +limited vocabulary and no aspirates. I say nothing, though I might say +much, of the jealousy of adult authors, the pusillanimity of unenterprising +publishers, the senile indifference of Parliament. But I warn them that, +unless the just claims of youth to economic and intellectual independence +are speedily acknowledged, the children of England will enforce them by +direct action of the most ruthless kind. The brain that rules the cradle +rocks the world. + +Yours indignantly, + +PANSY BASHFORD. + +A DOGGEREL SUMMARY. + +SIR,--I have followed the _Youth_ v. _Age_ controversy with interest and +venture to sum up its progress so far in ten of the worst lines in the +world:-- + + There was an old don so engrossed + In maintaining his rule of the roast + That he made quite a scene + When addressed as "Old bean," + And wrote to complain in _The Post_. + + Whereupon the disciples of WELLS + Emitted a chorus of yells, + And they fell upon Age + With unfilial rage + And gave it all manner of hells. + +I am, Sir, Yours, + +GALLIO JUNIOR. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Meanest Member_ (_seeking free advice, after driving out of +bounds, from professional who is giving a lesson to another player_). +"FUNNY THING, BUT EVERY TIME I DRIVE THIS MORNING I SLICE LIKE THAT. WHAT +DO YOU THINK IS THE CAUSE?" + +_Professional_ (_after deep thought_). "WELL, SIR, MEBBE YE'RE NO' HITTIN' +'EM RIGHT."] + + * * * * * + +"SWITZERLAND AGAIN. + + Fine weather has resigned with only brief interruptions since the + season began."--_Times._ + +Just as in England. + + * * * * * + + "Alice ----, a married woman, was charged with unlawfully wounding her + husband, Charles ----, a labourer, by striking him with a pair of + tongues."--_Local Paper._ + +CHARLES has our sympathy. He might just as well have been a bigamist. + + * * * * * + +WESTWARD HO! + + James, if from life's little worries and trouble you + Sigh to be wafted afar, + Meet me at Paddington Station, G.W. + R. + + Thence, if our plans be not baulked by some latterday + Railwayman-unionist freak, + We'll make a bold bid for freedom on Saturday + Week. + + Care may ride pillion or on the ship's deck set her + Foot, but she'll hunt us in vain + Once we've set ours on the ten-thirty Exeter + Train. + + Ours no "resort" where you run up iniquitous + Bills at the "Royal" or "Grand," + Blatant with pier and parade and ubiquitous + Band. + + No "silver sea" where the gaudy and giddy come; + We're for a peacefuller air + Breathing of _Uncle Tom Cobley_ and Widdicombe + Fair. + + Warm as a welcome the red of the tillage is, + Green are the pastures, and deep + Down in the combes little thatch-covered villages + Sleep. + + Far from society (praises to Allah be!), + Wearing demobilised boots, + Clad in our countrified (Deeley-cum-Mallaby) + Suits, + + We'll o'er the moor where the ways never weary us, + Lunch at a primitive pub, + Loaf till it's time to get back to more serious + Grub. + + Haply some neighbouring Dartymoor brooklet'll + Tempt us at eve to set out, + Greenheart in hand, and endeavour to hook little + Trout. + + Well, there's a programme for three weeks of heaven, sheer + Bliss, if you add to the scheme + Farm eggs and bacon and junket and Devonshire + Cream. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Customer._ "I SAY--DO YOU EVER PLAY ANYTHING BY REQUEST?" + +_Delighted Musician._ "CERTAINLY, SIR." + +_Customer._ "THEN I WONDER IF YOU'D BE SO GOOD AS TO PLAY A GAME OF +DOMINOES UNTIL I'VE FINISHED MY LUNCH!"] + + * * * * * + +SAND SPORTS. + +Two or three hundred yards behind the sandhills, which seem to be deserted +but are really full of sudden hollows, with embarrassing little bathing +tents in them, the village sports have just been held. They took place in a +sloping grass field kindly lent for the occasion by Mr. Bates. This means +that you paid a shilling to enter the field, whereas on other days you can +picnic in it or play cricket in it without paying anything at all. Mr. +Bates is a kind of absentee landlord so far as we are concerned, for he is +the butcher at Framford, four miles away, and only brings the proceeds of +his butchery to us on Tuesdays and Fridays, which is the reason why on +Mondays and Thursdays one usually has eggs and bacon for dinner. + +It was an interesting afternoon for many reasons, most of all perhaps +because many of the visitors saw each other for the first time in +clothes--in land clothes, I mean--and it is wonderful how much smarter some +of them looked than when popping red or brown faces, with lank wisps of +hair on them, out of the brine. + +Some of the athletic events were open, like the Atlantic Sea, and some +close, like the Conferences at Lympne, but very few of the visitors +competed in any of them. I don't think any of us fancied our chances +overmuch, but personally I was a little bitter about the three-mile bicycle +race, because there were three prizes and only three competitors. I am past +my prime at this particular sport, but as it happened one of the three +broke his gear-chain somewhere about the seventh lap, and it was a long +time before he mended it and rode triumphantly past the finishing flag. I +felt then that I had missed what was probably my first and last chance of +securing an Olympic palm. + +The whole affair struck me as being very well managed; dull events, like +the high jump and putting the shot, being held quietly in a corner by the +hedge, whilst the really interesting things, like the sack race and the egg +and spoon race, went on in the middle. We used potatoes instead of eggs, +but whether there was a system of handicapping according to the weight and +age of the potatoes I was unable to determine. I do feel confident, +however, that that girl with the yellow hair and the striped skirt to whom +the first prize was quite incorrectly awarded by the judges had put some +treacle--But there, I will be magnanimous. + +The postman was a great success. He had acquired a light suit of overalls, +on which he had painted three large red stars, using, I hope, Government +red ink, and with black cheeks and a floured nose footed it solemnly to the +music of the Framford Comrades' Band. He also ran underneath the lath at +the high jump and tumbled down in trying to put the shot. All round the +field children could be heard asking, "What _is_ he doing, Mummy?" and, +when they were told, "Hush, dears, he's doing it for a _joke_," their eyes +danced and they tried for a moment to control their emotion and then broke +into shrieks of laughter. All the difficult open events which were not won +by a young man in puce-coloured shorts were won by a friend of his in a +yellow shirt. I have an idea that these two young men came from Framford +and go round doing this kind of thing and getting prizes for it, just as +Mr. Bates goes round selling his beef. + +Amidst all this fun and frolic, if you went up to the top of one of the +sandhills and looked across the blue bay to the little seaport opposite, +you saw that it was also emptied of its folk this pious afternoon and was +in fact holding aquatic revels. Little fishing-boats with brown sails were +turning about a given mark. There were rowing races and diving competitions +and a greasy pole and very probably a comic man dressed up as a buoy. + +I have pondered deeply over these twin feasts, and it has occurred to me +that, whilst land sports and water sports are both of them very good things +in their way, neither expresses the real genius of a maritime resort, and +also that we visitors, if we are too shy to enter with gusto into the local +games, ought to provide some suitable entertainment in return. I have +compiled therefore a programme of a Grand Beach Gala for next week, and +have had a notice put up in the post-office window inviting entries. Not +many people buy stamps at the post-office, but, as you get bacon and spades +and buckets and jam there, it is a pretty popular emporium, and I think my +list of events should prove an attractive one. It runs as follows:-- + +1. _Pebble and Tent Competition._--Fathers of families only. To be run if +possible at low tide on a wet and windy day. Competitors to leave starting +post in ordinary attire, enter tent, emerge in bathing costume, strike +tents, sprint over shingle to the sea, swim to a given point, return, pitch +tents, dress and run to winning-post. + +FIRST PRIZE, a ham sandwich, with real sand. + +2. _Sock Race._--Under ten. Competitors to start barefooted in rock-pools +and race at the sound of a dinner-bell to nurses, have feet dried, put on +shoes and stockings and run to row of buns at top of beach. First bun down +wins. Points deducted for sand in socks. + +3. _Hundred Yards Paddle Dash._--To be run along the edge of surf. Handicap +by position. Tallest competitor to have deepest station. Open to all ages +and sexes. Feet to be lifted clear of the water at every stride. Properly +raced this is a fine frothy event, productive of the greatest enthusiasm, +especially if the trousers come unrolled. + +4. _Sand Castle Contest._--Open to all families of eight. Twenty minutes +time limit. Largest castle wins. Moats must contain real sea-water. + +5. _Impromptu Picnic._--Ladies only. Materials must be collected from the +village shops, brought down to beach and spread out at winning flag. For +the purpose of this competition the sports must take place on a Thursday, +when the weekly visit of the greengrocer coincides with one of the +bi-weekly visits of the baker from Framford. Eggs and butter must be +obtained at the Mill Farm, and you can do the rest at the post-office. + +6. _Fifty Yards Hat Race._--Under five. Fathers to be seated in a row on +beach. Competitors to remove fathers' hats, run twenty-five yards, fill +hats with sand, return and replace hats. + +In order to prevent any ill-feeling that might arise from the thought that +I had practised any of these races in private beforehand I have elected to +be the judge. + +EVOE. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A SESSION OF COMMON SENSE. + +ERIN. "I'VE GREAT HOPES OF THIS NEW DEVELOPMENT; BUT OF COURSE IT'S NOT AN +OFFICIAL CONFERENCE." + +PEACE. "WELL, TO JUDGE BY MY EXPERIENCE, IT'S NONE THE WORSE FOR THAT."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MODERN BUSINESS METHODS. + +_Patron._ "DIDN'T I GIVE YOU SOMETHING IN HIGH STREET THIS MORNING?" + +_Artist._ "YES, MUM. I'VE A BRANCH THERE."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "OH, MUMMY, WILL YOU GET THE TWOPENCE BACK?"] + + * * * * * + +THE ROOM AT THE BACK. + + [A story of the supernatural, which should not be read late at night by + persons of weak nerves.] + +Outwardly, "Chatholme" was as all the other villas in Dunmoral Avenue, +which were just detached enough to allow the butcher's boy to squeeze +himself and his basket--and perhaps the cook--between any two of them, and +differed from each other in nothing but names, numbers and window-curtains. + +And the interior of the house, when the Pottigrews took possession of it, +seemed equally commonplace. There is no need to show you all over it, but +if you intend to peruse this narrative, in spite of the warning above, it +is desirable that you should at least inspect the ground-floor. + +On one side of the hall, which was faintly illumined in the daytime by a +fanlight, was the drawing-room; on the other side was the dining-room, and +behind the dining-room was a smaller room with a French-window looking on +to the back-garden, which probably was described by the house-agents as the +"morning-room," but was by Mr. Pottigrew designated his "study." + +Prosaic enough, you will say. And yet there was that about the ground-floor +of "Chatholme" which was anything but matter-of-fact, as the Pottigrews +began to discover before they had been in residence many days. + +Mrs. Pottigrew was the first to "sense" something out of the ordinary. She +was of Manx origin, and therefore peculiarly sensitive to "influences;" one +of those uncomfortable people who cannot visit such places as Hampton Court +or the Tower without vibrating like harp-strings. + +Mr. Pottigrew, however, was of the duller fibre of which cyclists rather +than psychists are made; and when, on his return from the City one +afternoon, his wife tried to get him to appreciate a certain eeriness in +the atmosphere of the new home, he sniffed it dutifully, and declared that +he could detect nothing but a confounded smell of onions. + +"That's because they _won't_ remember to shut the kitchen door," Mrs. +Pottigrew explained. "But--" + +"Well, it can't be the drains, because they've just been tested," said Mr. +Pottigrew impatiently. And, like a stout materialist, he muttered, +"Imagination!" as he strolled away to the sanctuary of his study, little +guessing how his own imagination was about to be stimulated. + +(Look here--this is where the creepy business begins. If, on consideration, +you feel you'd rather read about cricket or politics or something, I'll +excuse you.) + +A little later, as Mrs. Pottigrew was crossing the hall, she was stopped +short by a strange, gasping choky sound which came from the study. There +followed the crash of a chair being overturned; the door opened and her +husband staggered out with scared eyes in a face as white as marble, and +beads of sweat on his brow. + +When a stiff brandy had restored the power of speech to Mr. Pottigrew, he +described the remarkable and alarming seizure he had just experienced. + +He had turned his arm-chair to the French-window, he said, with the +intention of enjoying a quiet smoke, and no sooner had he seated himself +and leaned back than an indescribable feeling of suffocation had crept upon +him, and at the same time he had been aware of a curious loss of control +over his jaws, so that he had been unable to prevent his mouth opening to +its widest extent. When he had tried to rise to his feet an invisible force +had seemed to be holding him down, and it was only by a tremendous effort +of will that he had managed to keep his senses and struggle to the door. + +He resolutely refused to see a doctor, but, deciding that the attack was a +warning that he had been overdoing it, he retired forthwith to bed. By the +morning he felt so well that he prescribed for himself a few quiet days by +the sea. And so he packed his bag and took himself off by an early train to +Brighton. + +That afternoon was marked by another disagreeable occurrence. After the way +of her kind, Mrs. Pottigrew's Aunt Charlotte was attracted by the idea of +using a room from which normally the female members of the household were +excluded. So she took her needlework into the study and prepared to spend a +quiet hour or so in the armchair facing the French-window. + +Hardly had she settled down when she too experienced the same feeling of +suffocation and the same involuntary opening of the jaws which Mr. +Pottigrew had described. She struggled against it, but, lacking the +will-power of her robust nephew-by-marriage, she was overcome by +unconsciousness. When she came to, a little dazed and faint, a few moments +later, she was dismayed to discover that her expensive dental-plate--a full +set--was lying on the floor, shattered beyond repair. + +Not being a person of vivid imagination, she attributed her transient +illness to intense sympathy with Mr. Pottigrew, and resigned herself to a +diet of slops until she could be furnished with new means of mastication. + +Next day, a Saturday, came the climax. Early in the evening an urgent +telegram summoned Mr. Pottigrew back from Brighton. Hastening home, he was +received by a wife distraught. + +"What did I tell you?" she wailed. "Send for Sir CONAN DOYLE. Poor dear +Aubrey! The doctor is upstairs with him." + +Mr. Pottigrew hurriedly ascended to the bedroom of his son and heir, a fine +healthy youth, just of an age to appreciate his father's cigars. (This, of +course, is a pre-Budget story.) + +The young fellow lying upon the bed smiled bravely as his father entered, +but Mr. Pottigrew was shocked to see that he smiled with toothless gums. A +grave professional-looking man rose from the bedside and beckoned Mr. +Pottigrew out of the room. + +"This extraordinary case, Sir," said the doctor as he closed the door +behind him, "is the outcome of causes quite beyond the present scope of the +medical profession. The sound, strong, firm teeth--a splendid set--of a +healthy young man do not jump out of his head of their own accord, every +one of them, for any natural reason." + +He paused and lowered his voice as he continued: "I am afraid, Mr. +Pottigrew, however reluctant we may be to admit the possibility, that there +is no doubt that you have taken a haunted house. The previous tenant was a +dentist--poor Mr. Acres. The room which is your study was his operating +room. _He died in that room while administering gas to himself preparatory +to extracting his own teeth._" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _North-Country Farmer_ (_to Profiteer fishing the Fell +becks_). "CAUGHT OWT?" + +_Profiteer._ "I'VE NOT ACTUALLY LANDED ANY, BUT THINK I HAD A RISE--UNLESS +IT WAS THE SPLASH FROM MY MINNOW."] + + * * * * * + +MRS. GAMP REDIVIVA. + + "Nurse; 39; experienced bottle fed; L40 to L50."--_Daily Paper._ + + * * * * * + +SPEEDING THE PARTING GUEST. + + "Oban is proving an attractive centre, for Lord ----, Lady ---- and + many others have departed thence during the last day or so."--_Daily + Paper._ + +We think it only kind to suppress the names. + + * * * * * + + "All new demands for capital, whether for private or public purposes, + had been met out of the sayings of the people."--_Daily Paper._ + +Mr. Punch may perhaps be permitted to mention that he has himself given +currency to a number of capital stories. + + * * * * * + + "It is to be hoped that, now that their unhappy country is in the + throes of the most ghastly terror of her history, the irreconcilable + elements in the Irish nation will see an all-compelling reason for + exercising the demon of strife.--_Indian Paper._ + +Unfortunately they seem to be doing so only too freely. + + * * * * * + +ANOTHER WAR TO END WAR. + + [An address to the League of Nations on learning that it is considering + a scheme to tackle the rat plague.] + + Not yours to lure the lands of Cross or Crescent + Back from Bellona where she bangs her drum, + Nor make this Hades, anyhow at present, + The New Elysium. + + For still the sword gleams mightier than the pen in + Europe, you'll notice, at the Bolshies' beck; + Confess now that the case of Mr. LENIN + Gets you right in the neck. + + So I have read with wondrous satisfaction, + Feeling in this your hands are far from tied, + That you propose to emulate the action + Of _Hamelin's Piper (Pied)_. + + And, though the task prove hard and ever harder, + From your crusade, I trust, you'll never cease + Till you've restored good-will to every larder + And to each pantry peace. + + Then, when the cocksure critic in his crudeness + Pops you the question while his back he pats, + "What have you done?" you'll find at last, thank goodness, + One ready answer--"Rats!" + + * * * * * + + "Puccinni's three one-act operas, erroneously described as a + typtich...."--_Evening Paper._ + +But what about the spelling of "Puccinni"? We fear our contemporary has, +after all, been caught triptyching. + + * * * * * + +HOW TO BUILD A HOUSE. + +The only way to build a house properly is to employ an architect to build +it for you. All the best houses are built by architects--any architect will +tell you that. But of course you will always be allowed to say that _you_ +built it, so it will come to the same thing. + +The walls of an architect's office are covered with drawings of enormous +public buildings which the architect has erected in every capital of +Europe. There are also a few of the statelier homes of England which he has +put up in his spare time. + +While you are waiting you compare these with your own scheme of the +six-roomed villa you propose to build. + +At last you are ushered into the presence and unless a stove-pipe +protruding from your waistcoat pocket suggests that you are travelling in +somebody's radiators you will probably be asked to sit down, and may even +be given a cigarette. There is no difficulty in opening your business. The +architect can see at a glance what you have come for and says quite simply, +"You want to build a house?" + +"I do," you reply. + +"How many reception rooms?" + +This rather staggers you. You had not intended to have any reception rooms +at all. You never give receptions. All you wanted was a dining-room and a +drawing-room, and a study with a round window over the fire-place. + +But it is evidently impossible to confide this to the architect. All you +can do is to reply as naturally as you can:-- + +"About half-a-dozen." + +"Eight reception rooms," says the architect. "And how many bedrooms?" + +"I don't really know; about one each." + +"Twenty bedrooms," suggests the architect (there are three in your family). +"And did you say a garage to hold two cars?" + +By this time you realise that you are engaged in a game something like +auction bridge and so far your opponent has done all the over-calling. + +"Double two cars!" you cry excitedly. + +"Five cars," rejoins the Architect. + +"Six cars!" + +"Garage to hold six cars," repeats the Architect, confessing defeat. "You +are, of course, aware that a house on this scale will cost you at least +twenty thousand pounds?" + +"Of course," you reply, and you honestly think it would be cheap at the +price. + +After this the only thing to do is to get away as quickly as possible. It +would be pure bathos to suggest any of your wife's labour-saving devices, +or introduce the subject of that circular bath-room with a circular bath +hanging by chains from the ceiling and a spirit-stove under it--your pet +invention. Recall a pressing engagement, shake the architect firmly by the +hand and promise to come and see him next Tuesday about details. In the +interval you can compose a letter at your leisure, informing him that in +view of the high cost of materials, etc., etc., you have decided to +postpone the building of your house, but you desire to build _at once_ a +gardener's cottage (so that the gardener can be getting the grounds into +order) containing one dining-room, one drawing-room, one study (with one +round window), three bedrooms, one circular bathroom (with one circular +bath) and one tool-shed to hold one tool. + +Even so you will probably have to make concessions. Your window will be +hexagonal and your bath square. But your worries are over. The architect +will choose a builder and between them they will build your house during +the next six years, which you will spend in lodgings. It is a long time to +wait, certainly, but you will find plenty of amusement in occasionally +counting the number of bricks that have been laid since last time. And then +in 1926, as you smoke your pipe in your study and gaze out of your +hexagonal window, you will not covet the Paradise of ADAM, the first +gardener. + + * * * * * + +RHYMES OF THE UNDERGROUND. + + Adolphus Minns resides at Kew + And does what people ought to do. + + In boarding trains his instincts are + To "let 'em first get off the car," + Then "hurry up" himself to enter, + And "pass along right down the centre." + + Though nigh his destination be + No selfish "door-obstructor" he: + Rather than bear such imputation + He'll travel on beyond his station. + + His unexceptionable ways + E'en liftmen have been known to praise-- + A folk censorious and, as such, + Not given to praising over-much. + + Small need have they to shout a grim + "No smoking in the lift" at him, + Or ask if he's the only one + For whom the lift is being run. + + Adolphus Minns, who lives at Kew, + Does all that people ought to do-- + Retires to bed before eleven, + Is up and shaved by half-past seven-- + And, when he dies, he'll go to Heaven. + + Perhaps he's gone; I've never met + His like at Kew or elsewhere yet. + + * * * * * + +THE DISSIMULATION OF SUZANNE. + +The telephone bell rang just as I was beginning breakfast. + +"What is your number, please?" asked an imperious voice. + +In an emergency I never can remember my own number. + +"Just hold on a minute while I look it up," I begged. Feverishly I turned +over the leaves of the telephone directory and, cutting with a blunt finger +the page containing the small advertisement that keeps my name before the +public eye, at last found and transmitted the desired information. + +"Don't go away," said the voice again, this time with a shade of weariness +in its tone. "Chesterminster wants you." + +I wasn't going away, because before Suzanne left me to visit her relatives +in Middleshire I had vowed that nothing would induce me to do so. But +Chesterminster wanted me. What should that portend? + +"Tell them," I declaimed into the mouthpiece while I instinctively posed +for the camera, "that I feel greatly honoured by their invitation and in +other circumstances I should have been delighted to come forward as their +Candidate. The Parliamentary history of Chesterminster constitutes one of +the most romantic chapters in the chronicles of England; but just now I am +busy writing verses for next week's _Back Chat_, so--" + +"If you will keep on talking to yourself you won't get connected," +interrupted the voice. "You're thr-r-rough, Chesterminster." + +"Are you Chelsea niner-seven-double-seven?" inquired a new voice, a little +more distant but not so haughty. + +"No, nine I mean niner-double-seven-seven," I replied. + +"Same thing," said the voice of Chesterminster. "Stokehampton wants you." + +"Tell them--" I began, but my oratory was drowned by a rapid succession of +small explosions, and out of this unholy crepitation emerged a still small +voice which said, "Is that you, darling?" Then I suddenly remembered that +Stokehampton is Suzanne's relatives' nearest town of call. + +"They want you to come tomorrow for the week-end," said Suzanne. "I lied to +them and said you were busy working, but they said you can have the library +to yourself whenever you want it, and spoke so nicely about you that I +couldn't refuse to ring you up. Besides, I want you to come, and the figs +and the mulberries are in splendid form." + +Suzanne knows that my idea of Heaven is a garden full of fig-trees and +mulberry-bushes at the appropriate season of the year. But it was raining +hard, and I abominate week-ends; and Suzanne's relatives are well-meaning +folk who always want to arrange your day for you. + +"No, Suzanne," I said, "emphatically, no. I can't think of a convincing +excuse at the moment, so you'd better say I'll be delighted to come. But +tomorrow morning you'll get a wire from me announcing that I'm sick of the +palsy--no, malaria, which they know I sometimes get--and that'll give you a +good ground for returning yourself tomorrow. Your three minutes is up. +Good-bye." + +With the inspiration still fresh upon me I wrote out the telegram and rang +for Evangeline. + +"Evangeline," I said, "I may possibly be detained in bed tomorrow morning. +In case that should happen"--she never betrayed even a flicker of the eye, +although she could, an she would, tell Suzanne some damning tales of late +rising during her absence--please send this telegram off before breakfast; +that is, before _your_ breakfast." + +Evangeline curtseyed and withdrew. I had spent my leisure moments during +the week teaching her the trick, as a surprise for Suzanne on her return. + +Next morning, as I lay in bed thinking out the subject of my next Message +to the Nation, I was gratified to notice that the rain had ceased and the +sun was shining genially. I thought of Suzanne and the refreshing fruit in +Suzanne's relatives' attractive gardens. Should I go after all? I rang the +bell. + +"Has that wire gone yet?" I asked. + +"Indeed I took it these two hours back," replied Evangeline. + +I looked at my watch and grunted. + +"Bring me a telegram-form," I commanded, "and some hotter hot water." + +So, having wired to Suzanne: "Malaria false alarm only passing effects of +overwork coming by the one-thirty PERCIVAL," I found myself at tea-time +being nursed back to health on mulberries-and-cream administered by the +solicitous hands of Aunt-by-acquisition Lucy. + +"Well," I said to Suzanne a little later as we strolled in the direction of +the fig-trees, "how did it go off--my first wire, I mean?" + +"Oh, I think I did it very well," she replied; "I gave a most realistic +exhibition of wifely concern, and the car had just come to take me to the +station when your second wire arrived." + +"Then they didn't spot anything?" + +"No," said Suzanne--"no, I don't think so." + +After dinner that night I was playing billiards with Toby, who is Suzanne's +aunt's nephew-by-marriage. We had the room to ourselves. + +"Dull part of the world this," he remarked. "By the way, what about that +malaria of yours?" + +"What about it?" I observed shortly. + +"Comes and goes rather suddenly, doesn't it?" + +"Very," I agreed. "It's one of the suddenest diseases ever invented." + +"'Invented' is a good word," said Toby. "You're a bit of an inventor, +aren't you?" + +"What do you mean? Are you venturing to imply--" + +"I imply nothing. I merely state that this morning Suzanne came down to +breakfast in her travelling-clothes. And that wasn't all." + +"Wasn't it?" I inquired weakly. "Tell me the worst." + +"All through breakfast," continued Toby with relish, "she was restless and +off her feed, and appeared to be listening for something. Afterwards +nothing could induce her to leave the house, and I myself caught her +surreptitiously studying the time-table. Every time a step was heard coming +up the drive she started to her feet. At last a telegraph-boy arrived. +Before anybody could discover whom the wire was addressed to, Suzanne +snatched it from the boy, tore it open, placed her hand in the region of +her heart and exclaimed, 'Oh, how provoking! Poor Percival's--' then she +turned it the right way up, looked unutterably foolish and meekly handed it +over to Aunt Lucy. It was from the old lady's stockbroker and referred to +some transaction or other in Housing Bonds." + +"And what did Aunt Lucy say?" I asked. + +"Oh, she just looked the least little bit surprised," replied Toby, "but +she didn't utter. Suzanne had to embrace the muddiest of all the cocker +pups to hide her flaming cheeks." + +"Well, what happened then?" + +"Then? Oh, then the telegraph-boy fished out another wire from his wallet. +I took it, glanced at the envelope and handed it to Suzanne. This time she +read it very gingerly before exclaiming in a highly unemotional voice: 'Oh, +how provoking! Poor Percival's got one of his sudden attacks of malaria and +can't come. So, if you don't mind, Aunt Lucy, I'll catch the eleven-fifteen +back.' Aunt Lucy was very sympathetic and went up to help her with her +packing, which was accomplished in a surprisingly short time; as a matter +of fact she had practically done it all before breakfast. Just as she was +going to drive off to the station up came another telegraph-boy. That was +your second wire, and Suzanne didn't seem any too pleased to receive it. +I'm not at all convinced," concluded Toby, "that your wife would make her +fortune on the stage." + +"Do you think Aunt Lucy suspects?" I asked. + +"Bless you, no. The dear old thing has the heart of a child." + +Maybe, but I have my doubts. Suzanne's aunt insisted on my staying a week +as a preventive against a nervous breakdown, and the tonic with which she +herself dosed me several times a day was the most repulsive beverage I had +ever tasted, effectually ruining the savour of figs and mulberries. Can it +be that Aunt Lucy is not only of a suspicious but also of a revengeful +nature? + +Suzanne ridicules my doublings and declares that she could make her aunt +swallow anything. I wish she could have made her swallow my tonic. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE QUESTION OF THE YACHTING CAP. + +HE DIDN'T WANT TO LOOK LIKE EVERY TOM, DICK AND HARRY, HE SAID, SO HE +DECIDED TO GO IN HIS YACHTING CAP.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BRITISH ASSOCIATION DELEGATES DISCUSSING ORIGIN OF STREET +ARAB'S EJACULATION, "YAH-YAH-YAH-SHR-R-RUP!"] + + * * * * * + + KAMENEFF to KRASSIN (on applying for passports): "_Cras ingens + iterabimus aequor._" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Host._ "HALF A MINUTE! I'LL LIGHT YOU TO THE GATE; IT'S +VERY DARK." + +_Cheerful Guest._ "THAT'S ALL RIGHT. I CAN SEE IN THE DARK. WHY, WHEN I WAS +IN FLANDERS--" + +_Host._ "YES, YES; BUT YOU'RE NOT IN FLANDERS NOW--YOU'RE IN MY CARNATION +BED."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +It would certainly have been a thousand pities if the coming of Peace had +deprived us of anything so cheerfully stimulating as the tales of "SAPPER" +(CYRIL MCNEILE). His _Bull-Dog Drummond_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) shows all +the old breathless invention as active as ever, while the pugnacity--to +give it no stronger term--is wholly unrestrained, even by what might seem +the unpromising atmosphere of Godalming in 1919. It would, of course, be +utterly beyond my scope to give in barest outline any list of the wild and +whirling events that begin when _Captain Hugh Drummond_ selects the most +encouraging of the answers to his "Bored ex-soldier" advertisement and +meets the writer, a cryptic but lovely lady, in the Carlton lounge. +(Judging by contemporary fiction, what histories could those walls reveal!) +After that the affair almost instantly develops into one lurid sequence of +battle, murder, bluff and the kind of ten-minutes-here-for-courtship which +proves that there is a gentler side even to the process of tracking crime. +As usual, though less in this business than most, because of the engaging +humour of the hero, I experienced a mild sympathy for the arch-villains; +and indeed they might well feel some bitterness when, after being described +as the master-intellects of the age, the author required them to conduct +their most secret affairs in a lighted ground-floor room with the curtains +undrawn. Most of them turn out to be Bolshevists, or at least in the +receipt of Soviet subsidies--though I see a well-known Labour Daily +reviewed the plot as unconvincing. Odd! Anyhow, a rattling story. + + * * * * * + +I am aware that, in confessing to an entire ignorance of any one of the +so-called _Books of Artemas_, I place myself in a minority so small as to +be almost beneath notice. This certainly is how the publishers regard the +matter if one may judge by their ecstatically jubilant, "Artemas has +written a novel! 7s. 6d. net," on the wrapper of _A Dear Fool_ (WESTALL). +Well, I have read the novel carefully, even I trust generously, with the +unhappy result that (knowing how elusive and individual a thing is +laughter) I can hardly bring myself to say how dull I found it. But the +fact remains. It is all about nothing--a preposterous little plot for the +identification, at a wildly inhuman reception, of an anonymous dramatist, +revealed finally as the journalist hero who was nearly sacked for writing +the play's only bad notice. In my day I have met both editors and critics; +even dramatists. I don't say they were all pleasant people; many of them +were not. But--here is my point--practically every one of them had at least +sufficient of our common humanity to prevent them from behaving for one +instant as their representatives do in this book. Let us charitably leave +it at that. Probably the next man I meet will have invited apoplexy over +his enjoyment of the same pages that moved me only to an irritated +bewilderment. You never can tell. + + * * * * * + +I rather think that _The Man with the Rubber Soles_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) +is Sir ALEXANDER BANNERMAN'S firstling, at least as far as fiction is +concerned. If so, many others will share my hope that it may prove to be +the eldest of a large family. For the author has not merely the knack of +telling a good mystery story in a way that keeps one interested until the +last page is turned; he tells it in a curiously dry matter-of-fact way that +makes really startling adventures seem the sort of thing that might happen +to anybody. The story concerns the pursuit of a gang of men who are engaged +in importing forged Treasury notes on a large scale and uttering them +through skilfully organised agencies. The police and various civilians +between them--there is no super-sleuth to weary us with his machine-like +prowess--run the thing to earth, partly by skill and partly by good luck, +and the civilians in particular have a stirring time doing it. Bombs, +automatic pistols, even soldiers and a submarine, assist quite naturally in +sustaining the interest. And a pleasant little romance is really woven into +the plot, not just pushed in anyhow. Altogether _The Man with the Rubber +Soles_ is a most excellent story of its kind, a real novel because plot and +treatment are alike new, and one can safely prophesy that when Sir +ALEXANDER BANNERMAN produces his nextling he will find a large and +appreciative circle of readers waiting to welcome it. + + * * * * * + +Three things charmed me particularly about _Henry Elizabeth_ (HURST AND +BLACKETT), whose remarkable second name was due to the fact that he was +born in the same year as the Virgin Queen and that his father had hoped +that he too would be a girl. In the first place he became the greatest +swordsman of his age and I was thus able to add him to my fine collection +of Elizabethan heroes who have achieved this honour. What happens when two +of these champions meet in those shadowy regions of romance where all +costume novels are merged I do not know. It must be rather like the +irresistible force and the immovable object. In the second place _H.E._ (no +one could better deserve these formidable initials) was given the job of +clearing Lundy Island of its piratical tenants, and I happened to have +Lundy Island just opposite me as I read the book. It is not often that a +reviewer has the chance of checking local colour with so little pains. And +in the third place Mr. JUSTIN HUNTLY MCCARTHY informs me, on page 101, that +his hero will "gaze one day upon rivers to which the Thames should seem +little better than a pitiful rivulet." As _Henry_ never gets further from +his native Devon than London in the course of this novel I take it that +this is a delicate allusion to the possibility of a sequel. I hope it is +so, and that I shall hear of _Henry_ in days to come, after a trip or two +with RALEIGH or DRAKE, rebuilding his manor of Braginton, which was +unfortunately burnt to the ground, and settling down to plant potatoes and +tobacco in prosperity and peace. + + * * * * * + +From the title, _Brute Gods_ (HEINEMANN), you may guess that Mr. LOUIS +WILKINSON'S new novel does not deal with homely topics in a vein of +harmless frolic. In recommending this very serious work of an expert author +and observer, I am bound to make some reservation. Unsophisticated youth, +if such there be in these days, should be kept away from the affair between +_Alec Glaive_ and _Gillian Collett_. _Alec_, a mere boy, was in a +dangerously unsettled condition when the lady crossed his path. His mother +had upset a not too happy family by eloping with a literary _poseur_; the +egoism of his father had been rendered even more oppressive and his sarcasm +even more acid thereby; and a Roman Catholic priest, intent on securing a +convert for his Order, had been plying his young mind with too exciting +conversations and too refreshing wines. Apart from external circumstances, +_Alec_ was tending to quarrel with humanity at large, and so he went the +whole hog, more in search of a desperate ideal than by way of impetuous +sin. Mr. WILKINSON treats the affair with deliberate, cold-blooded, even +cynical analysis; and his portrayal of the snobbery and humbug of the +upper-middle class, social and intellectual, in which his creatures move is +searching and disturbing. But, I ask myself, are people really like that? +Or rather are there enough of these unnaturals, extremists, moral +Bolshevists or whatever you like to call them, to justify their +presentation as a modern type? Always an optimist, I think not; and I +notice that the author gives a no less clever and a much more convincing +impression of the normal, settled and pleasant characters who are +incidental to the plot. Make for yourself the acquaintance of the charming +_Wilfred Vail_ and the most amusing and seductive Cockney artiste, _Betty +Barnfield_, and you will admit, however pessimistic your views, that there +may be something in mine. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: ROMANCE AND PROSE. + +_The Youth._ "CAN YOU DIRECT ME TO THE CASTLE OF THE BLACK MOUNTAIN?" + +_The Old Man._ "I CAN, YOUNG MAN. BUT PERCHANCE THOU GOEST TO SEEK THE HAND +OF THE PRINCESS? BEWARE, RASH YOUTH! IT IS A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. THOU WILT +BE REQUIRED TO ACHIEVE MANY DANGEROUS TASKS. HAST THOU THOUGHT OF THE +RISK?" + +_The Youth._ "NOT MUCH. I'M GOIN' TO MEND THE KITCHEN BOILER."] + + * * * * * + +PALMAM QUI MERUIT FERAT. + + "The Czecho-Slovaks were greeted this afternoon by a committee of + Vancouver ladies, representing the Red Cross Society. The war-worn + veterans were presented with a package containing cigarettes, an orange + and a chocolate bar, in recognition of valuable services rendered the + Allied cause."--_Canadian Paper._ + + * * * * * + + "PRINCE GEORGE IN SWEDEN. + + Prince George has been enjoying the sights of Christiania and its + beautiful surroundings."--_Morning Paper._ + +He should now visit Stockholm and give Norway a turn. + + * * * * * + + "Gentleman, no ties, will undertake any mission to anywhere."-- + _Provincial Paper._ + +But surely not where neck-wear is _de rigueur_. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +159, September 1st, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 16717.txt or 16717.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/7/1/16717/ + +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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