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diff --git a/17471-h/17471-h.htm b/17471-h/17471-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3bb1dd --- /dev/null +++ b/17471-h/17471-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2955 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + + <html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta name="generator" content="HTML Tidy, see www.w3.org" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>Punch, 14th February 1917.</title> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10% +} +p { + text-align: justify; +} +p.center { + text-align: center; +} +p.author { + margin-top: -1em; margin-right: 5%; text-align: right; +} +blockquote { + text-align: justify; +} +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 { + text-align: center; +} +td { + font-size: 0.9em; + text-align: center; +} +pre { + font-size: 0.7em; +} +hr { + width: 50%; text-align: center; +} +hr.full { + width: 100%; +} +hr.short { + width: 20%; text-align: center; +} +.note { + font-size: 0.9em; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} +span.pagenum { + font-size: 8pt; right: 91%; left: 1%; position: absolute; +} +.sc { + font-variant: small-caps; + font-weight: normal; +} +.poem { + margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left; +} +.poem .stanza { + margin: 1em 0em; +} +.poem p { + padding-left: 3em; margin: 0px; text-indent: -3em; +} +.poem p.i2 { + margin-left: 1em; +} +.poem p.i4 { + margin-left: 2em; +} +.poem p.i6 { + margin-left: 3em +} +.poem p.i8 { + margin-left: 4em +} +.poem p.i10 { + margin-left: 5em +} +.poem p.i12 { + margin-left: 6em +} +.poem p.i16 { + margin-left: 8em +} + +.figure { + padding-right: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: 0.8em; padding-bottom: 1em; margin: 0px; padding-top: 1em; text-align: center; +} +.figcenter { + padding-right: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: 0.8em; padding-bottom: 1em; margin: 0px; padding-top: 1em; text-align: center; +} +.figright { + padding-right: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: 0.8em; padding-bottom: 1em; margin: 0px; padding-top: 1em; text-align: center; +} +.figleft { + padding-right: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: 0.8em; padding-bottom: 1em; margin: 0px; padding-top: 1em; text-align: center; +} +.figure img { + border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; +} +.figcenter img { + border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; +} +.figright img { + border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; +} +.figleft img { + border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; +} +.figure p { + margin: 0px; text-indent: 1em; +} +.figcenter p { + margin: 0px; text-indent: 1em; +} +.figright p { + margin: 0px; text-indent: 1em; +} +.figleft p { + margin: 0px; text-indent: 1em; +} +.figure p.in { + margin: 0px; text-indent: 8em; +} +.figcenter p.in { + margin: 0px; text-indent: 8em; +} +.figright p.in { + margin: 0px; text-indent: 8em; +} +.figleft p.in { + margin: 0px; text-indent: 8em; +} +.figcenter { + margin: auto; +} +.figright { + float: right; +} +.figleft { + float: left; +} +</style> + +<meta content="mshtml 6.00.2800.1515" name="generator" /></head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 152, +February 14, 1917, 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. 152, February 14, 1917 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: January 5, 2006 [EBook #17471] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Lesley Halamek and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br />OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> +<h2>Vol. 152.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>February 14th, 1917.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page101" id="page101"></a>[pg 101]</span> +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> +<p> +"We will hold up wheat, we will +hold up meat, we will hold up munitions +of war and we will hold up the +world's commerce," says Herr <span class="sc">Ballin</span>. +Meanwhile his countrymen on the +Western front are content to hold up +their hands.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +It is reported from German Headquarters +that the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> intends to +confer on Count <span class="sc">Bernstorff</span> the Iron +Cross with white ribbon. This has, +we understand, caused consternation +in official circles, where it is felt that +after all the Count has done his best +for Germany.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +"We are at war," says the <i>Berliner +Tageblatt</i>, a statement which only goes +to prove that there is nothing hidden +from the great minds of Germany.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +The report that Mr. <span class="sc">Henry Ford</span> +has offered to place his works at the +disposal of the American authorities +seems to indicate that he is determined +to get America on his side, one way or +the other.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +Mr. S.F. <span class="sc">Edge</span>, the famous motorist, +now on the <span class="sc">Food Controller's</span> staff, +has given it as his opinion that a +simple outdoor life is best for pigs. +We are ashamed to say that our own +preference for excluding them from +our drawing-room has hitherto been +dictated by purely selfish motives.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +America is making every preparation +for a possible war, and Mexico, not +to be outdone, has decided to hold a +Presidential election.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +It is true that Mr. <span class="sc">George Bernard +Shaw</span> has visited the Front, but too +little has, we think, been made of the +fact that he wore khaki—just like an +ordinary person, in fact.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +A sensational story reaches us to +the effect that a new journalistic enterprise +in Berlin is being devoted to the +"reliable reporting of news." We have +always maintained that to be successful +in business you must strike out on +original lines.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +An exhibition of Zeppelin wreckage +has been opened in the Middle Temple +Gardens. The authorities are said to +be considering an offer confidentially +communicated to them by the German +Government to add Count <span class="sc">Zeppelin</span> as +an exhibit to the rest of the wreckage.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +Members of the Honor Oak Golf +Club are starting a piggery on their +course, and an elderly golfer who practises +on a common near London is +about to write to <i>The Spectator</i> to state +that on Saturday he started a rabbit.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +The American Association for the +Advance of Science decided at a recent +convocation that the ape had descended +from man. This statement has evoked +a very strong protest in monkey circles.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +The tuck-shops of Harrow have been +loyally placed out of bounds by the boys +themselves, though of course these +establishments, like the playing fields +of Eton, had their part in the winning +of Waterloo.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +One of our large restaurants is printing +on its menus the actual weight of +meat used in each dish. In others, +fish is being put on the table accompanied +by its own scales.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +We are requested to carry home our +own purchases, and one of the firms +for whom we feel sorry is Messrs. +<span class="sc">Furness, Withy & Company</span>, of Liverpool, +who have just purchased Passage +Docks, Cork.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +Australia by organising her Commonwealth +Loan Group, once again +lives up to her motto, "Advance, +Australia."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +The Coroner of East Essex having +set the example of keeping pigs in +his rose garden, it is rumoured that +<i>The Daily Mail</i> contemplates offering +a huge prize for a Standard Rose-Scented +Pig.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> +<p> +To be in line with many of our contemporaries +we are able to state definitely +that the War is bound to come +to an end, though we have not yet +fixed on the exact date.</p> + + <hr /> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%;"> +<a href="images/101.png"><img width="100%" src="images/101.png" alt="Food Development in the Parks." /></a> + + +<h4>FOOD DEVELOPMENT IN THE PARKS.</h4> +<h4><span class="sc">A Forecast of Next Valentine's Day.</span></h4> + +<p><i>Spinster</i> (<i>reads</i>). "Dearest, meet me by the +scarecrow in Hyde Park."</p> +</div> + + <hr /> + +<h2>AIR-CASTLES.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>When I grow up to be a man and wear whate'er I please,</p> +<p>Black-cloth and serge and Harris-tweed—I will have none of these;</p> +<p>For shaggy men wear Harris-tweed, so Harris-tweed won't do,</p> +<p>And fat commercial travellers are dressed in dingy blue;</p> +<p>Lack-lustre black to lawyers leave and sad souls in the City,</p> +<p>But I'll wear Linsey-Woolsey because it sounds so pretty.</p> + <p class="i2">I don't know what it looks like,</p> + <p class="i4">I don't know how it feels,</p> + <p class="i2">But Linsey-Woolsey to my fancy</p> + <p class="i4">Prettily appeals.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And when I find a lovely maid to settle all my cash on,</p> +<p>She will be much too beautiful to need the gauds of fashion.</p> +<p>No tinted tulle or taffeta, no silk or crêpe-de-chine</p> +<p>Will the maiden of my fancy wear—no chiffon, no sateen,</p> +<p>No muslin, no embroidery, no lace of costly price,</p> +<p>But she'll be clad in Dimity because it sounds so nice.</p> + <p class="i2">I don't know what it looks like,</p> + <p class="i4">I do not know its feel,</p> + <p class="i2">But a dimpled maid in Dimity</p> + <p class="i4">Was ever my ideal.</p></div></div> + + + <hr /> + +<h4>The Last Menu Card.</h4> + +<blockquote> +"To-day is one of the great moments of +history. Germany's last card is on the table. +It is war to the knife. Either she starves +Great Britain or Great Britain starves her." +—<i>Mr. Curtin in "The Times."</i></blockquote> + +<p> +Mr. <span class="sc">Curtin</span> has lost a great chance for +talking of "War to the knife-and-fork." +Possibly he was away in Germany at +the time when this <i>jeu d'esprit</i> was +invented.</p> + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"The Canadian papers are unanimous that +the German peace proposals are premature, +and will be refused saskatoon." +—<i>Examiner</i> (<i>Launceston, Tasmania</i>).</blockquote> + +<p> +We had not heard before that Germany +had asked for Saskatoon, but anyway +we are glad she is not going to get it.</p> + + <hr /> +<p> +From a schoolgirl's essay:—</p> + +<blockquote> +"The Reconnaissance was the time when +people began to wake up ... Friar Jelicoe +was a very great painter; he painted angles."</blockquote> + +<p> +Probably an ancestor of the gallant +gentleman who recently had a brush +with the enemy.</p> + + <hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page102" id="page102"></a>[pg 102]</span> + + +<h3>TACTLESS TACTICS.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Were I a burglar in the dock</p> + <p class="i2">With every chance of doing time,</p> +<p>With Justice sitting like a rock</p> + <p class="i2">To hear a record black with crime;</p> +<p>If my conviction seemed a cert,</p> + <p class="i2">Yet, by a show of late repentance,</p> +<p>I thought I might, with luck, avert</p> + <p class="i2">A simply crushing sentence;—</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I should adopt, by use of art,</p> + <p class="i2">A pensive air of new-born grace,</p> +<p>In hope to melt the Bench's heart</p> + <p class="i2">And mollify its awful face;</p> +<p>I should not go and run amok,</p> + <p class="i2">Nor in a fit of senseless fury</p> +<p>Punch the judicial nose or chuck</p> + <p class="i2">An inkpot at the jury.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>So with the Hun: you might assume</p> + <p class="i2">He would exert his homely wits</p> +<p>To mitigate the heavy doom</p> + <p class="i2">That else would break him all to bits;</p> +<p>Yet he behaves as one possessed,</p> + <p class="i2">Rampaging like a bull of Bashan,</p> +<p>Which, as I think, is not the best</p> + <p class="i2">Means of conciliation.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>For when the wild beast, held and bound,</p> + <p class="i2">Ceases to plunge and rave and snort,</p> +<p>The Bench, I hope, will pass some sound</p> + <p class="i2">Remarks on this contempt of court;</p> +<p>The plea for mercy, urged too late,</p> + <p class="i2">Should prove a negligible cipher,</p> +<p>And when the sentence seals his fate</p> + <p class="i2">He'll get at least a lifer.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16">O.S.</p> +</div></div> + + <hr /> + +<h3>HEART-TO-HEART TALKS.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>The <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> and Count <span class="sc">Bernstorff</span>.</i>)</p> +<p> +<i>The Kaiser</i> (<i>concluding a tirade</i>). And so, in spite of my +superhuman forbearance, this is what it has come to. +Germany is smacked in the face in view of the whole world—yes, +I repeat it, is smacked in the face, and by a nation +which is not a nation at all, but a sweeping together of the +worst elements in all the other nations, a country whose +navy is ludicrous and whose army does not exist; and you, +Count, have the audacity to come here into my presence +and tell me that, with the careful instructions given to you +by my Government and by myself, you were not able to +prevent such an end to the negotiations? It is a thing +that cannot be calmly contemplated. Even I, who have +learnt perhaps more thoroughly than other men to govern +my temper—even I feel strangely moved, for I know how +deplorable will be the effect of this on our Allies and on the +other neutral Powers. Our enemies, too, will be exalted by +it and thus the War will be prolonged. No, Count, at such +a moment one does not appear before one's Emperor with +a smiling face.</p> +<p> +<i>Count B.</i> God knows, your Majesty, that it is not I who +have a smiling face. At such a moment there could be no +reason for it. But your Majesty will remember, in justice +to myself, that I have not ceased to warn your Majesty +from the very beginning that unless something actual and +definite was conceded to the feeling of the United States +trouble would surely come. First there was the treatment +of Belgium— </p> +<p> +<i>The Kaiser</i>. Bah! Don't talk to me of Belgium and the +Belgians. No more ungrateful race has ever infested the +earth. Besides, did I not say that my heart bled for +Louvain?</p> +<p> +<i>Count B.</i> The Americans, your Majesty, had the bad +taste not to believe you. It was in vain that I spread +those gracious words of yours broadcast throughout the +land. They only laughed at your Majesty.</p> +<p> +<i>The Kaiser</i>. Yes, I know they did, curse them.</p> +<p> +<i>Count B.</i> Then there came the deplorable sinking of the +<i>Lusitania</i>.</p> +<p> +<i>The Kaiser</i>. Oh, don't speak to me of the <i>Lusitania</i>. +I'm sick to death of the very name. Besides, how do you +dare to call her sinking deplorable? I authorised it; that +ought to be enough for you and for everybody else.</p> +<p> +<i>Count B.</i> I beg your Majesty's pardon. When I said +"deplorable" I was alluding not so much to the act itself +as to its effect on opinion in the United States. From that +moment the Americans stiffened in their attitude towards +us and became definitely and strongly unfavourable. I +warned your Majesty of this over and over again, but your +Majesty preferred to disregard what I said.</p> +<p> +<i>The Kaiser</i>. And have you any complaint to make? Is +your opinion of yourself so high that one may not without +sacrilege disregard your opinion?</p> +<p> +<i>Count B.</i> Your Majesty is pleased to jest. I am not +infallible, not being an Emperor, but I happen in this case +to have been right. And then on the top of all the other +things comes the Note announcing the new under-sea +policy, and the ridiculous offer to allow the Americans to +be safe in one ship a week, provided she is painted in a +certain way. No, really, with a proud nation—</p> +<p> +<i>The Kaiser</i>. Proud! A race of huckstering money-grubbers.</p> +<p> +<i>Count B.</i> With a proud nation—I must repeat it, your +Majesty—such a course must lead straight to war. But +perhaps that was what your advisers wanted, though I +cannot see why they should want it. But for myself I +must ask your Majesty to remember that I foretold what +has come to pass. There is perhaps yet time to undo +the mischief.</p> +<p> +<i>The Kaiser</i>. No, it is too late.</p> + + <hr /> + +<h3>AS OTHERS SEE US.</h3> +<p> +The General Officer Commanding, as he appears to:</p> +<p> +(1) <i>His Chief of Staff</i>.—The one insuperable obstacle to +tactical triumphs such as <span class="sc">Cæsar</span> and <span class="sc">Napoleon</span> never +knew.</p> +<p> +(2) <i>His youngest A.D.C.</i>—A perpetual fountain of unsterilized +language.</p> +<p> +(3) <i>Certain Subalterns</i>.—The greatest man on earth.</p> +<p> +(4) <i>Tommy Atkins</i>.—A benevolent old buffer in scarlet +and gold who periodically takes an inexplicable interest in +Tommy's belt and brass buttons. An excuse for his +sergeant's making him present arms.</p> +<p> +(5) <i>The British Public</i>.—A name in the newspapers.</p> +<p> +(6) <i>Himself</i>.—(<i>a</i>) Before dinner: An unfortunate, overworked +and ill-used old man. (<i>b</i>) After dinner: England's +hope and Sir <span class="sc">William Robertson's</span> right hand.</p> +<p> +(7) <i>His Wife</i>.—A very lovable, but helpless, baby.</p> + + <hr /> +<p> +From an Indian teacher's report on the progress of his +school:—</p> + +<blockquote> +"A sad experience. Spirits for a time were very high. Our menials +talked of exploits and masters of glory in store. But soon the famines +set in. The treachery of the elements ravished the hopes of agriculturists, +the major portion of the supporters of the —— school. The +puffs of misery bleached white the flush of early and latter times; +dinner-hours grew few and far between; and with the Sun of Loaf +sank all wakefulness to light and culture."</blockquote> + +<p> +This last feature sounds a little like Berlin.</p> + + <hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page103" id="page103"></a>[pg 103]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<a href="images/103.png"><img width="100%" src="images/103.png" alt="Rational Service." /></a> +<h4>RATIONAL SERVICE.</h4> + +<p><span class="sc">John Bull</span>. "SACRIFICE INDEED! WHY, I'M FEELING FITTER EVERY MINUTE, AND +I'VE STILL PLENTY OF WEIGHT TO SPARE."</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page104" id="page104"></a>[pg 104]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<a href="images/104.png"><img width="100%" src="images/104.png" alt="Rational Service." /></a> + +<h4>"<span class="sc">How this egg got past the Food Controller I can't imagine.</span>"</h4></div> + + <hr /> + +<h3>THE THREE DICTATORS.</h3> +<p> +(<i>Being a tragedy of the moment and incidentally +a guide to the art of handing +out correspondence to the typist.</i>)</p> + +<h4>I.</h4> +<p> +There are, of course, as many styles +of dictating letters as there are of writing +them; but three stand out. One +is the Indignant Confidential; one the +Hesitant Tactful; and one the No-Nonsense +Efficient. Bitter experience +in three orderly London houses only a +day or so ago chances to have led to +such complete examples of each of +these styles that the reader has the +felicity of acquiring at the same time a +valuable insight into business methods +and a glimpse of what Nature in the +person of Jack Frost can do with even +the best regulated of cities.</p> +<p> +We will take first the Hesitant +Tactful, where the typist is not merely +considered as a human being but invited +to become an ally. The dictator +is Mr. Vernon Crombie.</p> +<p> +"Oh, Miss Carruthers, there's a letter +I want to dictate and get off by hand +at once, because my house isn't fit to live +in through burst pipes. The plumbers +promised to send yesterday, but didn't, +and to-day they can't come, it seems, +and really it's most serious. Ceilings +being ruined, you know. The bore is +that there aren't any other plumbers +that I know of, and one is so at the +mercy of these people that we must go +very delicately. You understand. We +mustn't say a word to set their backs +up any higher than they already are. +Anger's no good in this case. Here +we must be tactful, and I want you to +help me. I knew you would.</p> +<p> +Now we'll begin. <i>To Messrs. Morrow +& Hope. Dear Sirs,—I hate</i>—no, +that's a little too strong, perhaps—<i>I +much dislike</i>—that's better—<i>I much +dislike to bother you at a time when I +know you must be overworked in every +direction</i>—you see the idea, don't you? +What we've got to do is to get on their +soft side. It's no use bullyragging +them; understanding their difficulties +is much better. You see that, don't +you? Of course; I knew you would. +Now then. Where was I? Oh yes—<i>overworked +in every direction; but if, +as you promised yesterday, but unfortunately +were unable</i>—I think that's good, +don't you? Much better than saying +that they had broken their promise—<i>to +manage, you could spare a man to +attend to our pipes without further delay</i>—I +think you might underline <i>without +further delay</i>. Would that be safe, +I wonder? Yes, I think so—<i>I should +be more than grateful.</i> And now there's +a problem. What I have been pondering +is if it would be wise to offer to +pay an increased charge. I'd do anything +to get the pipes mended, but, on +the other hand, it's not a sound precedent. +A state of society in which +everyone bid against everyone else +for the first services of the plumber +would be unbearable. Only the rich +would ever be plumbed, and very soon +the plumbers would be the millionaires. +Perhaps we had better let the +letter go as it is? You think so and I +think so. Very well then, just <i>Believe +me, yours faithfully</i>, and I'll sign it."</p> +<p> +And now the Indignant and Confidential. +Mr. Horace Bristowe is dictative: +"Ah, here you are, Miss Tappit. Now +I've got trouble with the plumbers, +and I want to give the blighters—well, +I can't say it to you, but you know +what I mean. There's my house dripping +at every pore, or rather pouring +at every drip—I say, that's rather +good; I must remember that to tell +them this evening. Just put that +down on a separate piece of paper, +will you. Well, here's the place all +soaked and not a man can I get. They +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page105" id="page105"></a>[pg 105]</span> +promised to send on Tuesday, they +promised to send yesterday, and this +morning comes a note saying that they +can't now send till to-morrow. What +do you think of that? And they have +worked for me for years. Years I've +been employing them.</p> +<p> +"Let's begin, anyway. <i>To Messrs. +Tarry & Knott. Dear Sirs</i>—No, I'm +hanged if I'll call them dear. Ridiculous +convention! They're not dear—except +in their charges. I say, that's +not bad. No, just put <i>Gentlemen</i>. But +that's absurd too. They're not gentlemen, +the swine! They're anything but +gentlemen, they're blackguards, swindlers, +liars. Seriously, Miss Tappit, I +ask you, isn't it monstrous? Here am +I, an old customer, with burst pipes +doing endless damage, and they can't +send anyone till to-morrow. Really, you +know, it's the limit. I know about the +War and all that. I make every allowance. +But I still say it's the limit. +Well, we must put the thing in the +third person, I suppose, if I'm not to +call them either 'dear' or 'gentlemen.' +<i>Mr. Horace Bristowe presents his comp</i>—Good +Heavens! he does nothing of +the kind—<i>Mr. Horace Bristowe begs to</i>—Begs! +Of course I don't beg. This +really is becoming idiotic. Can't one +write a letter like an honest man, instead +of all this flunkey business? Begin +again: <i>To Messrs. Tarry & Nott. Mr. +Horace Bristowe considers that he has +been treated with a lack of consideration</i>—no, +we can't have 'considers' +and 'consideration' so near together. +What's another word for 'consideration'?—<i>treated +with a lack of—a lack of</i>—Well, +we'll keep 'consideration' +and alter 'considers.' Begin again: +<i>Mr. Horace Bristowe thinks</i>—no, that's +not strong enough—<i>believes</i>—no. Ah, +I've got it—<i>Mr. Horace Bristowe holds +that he has been treated by you with a +lack of consideration which</i>—I wonder +if 'which' is better than 'that'—<i>a lack +of consideration that, considering his +long</i>—no, we can't have 'considering' +just after 'consideration'—<i>that</i>—no, +<i>which—which—in view of his long +record as</i>—What I want to say is +that it's an infernal shame that after +all these years, in which I've put +business in their way and paid them +scores of pounds, they should treat me +in this scurvy fashion, that's what I +mean. The swine! I tell you, Miss +Tappit, it's infamous. I—(and so on).</p> +<p> +The No-Nonsense Efficient businessman, +so clear-headed and capable that +it is his continual surprise that he is +not in the Cabinet without the preliminary +of an election, handles his +correspondence very differently. He +presses a button for Miss Pether. She +is really Miss Carmichael, but it is a +rule in this model office that the typist +takes a dynastic name, and Pether now +goes with the typewriter, just as all +office-boys are William. Miss Pether +arrives with her pad and pencil and +glides swiftly and noiselessly to her +seat and looks up with a face in which +mingle eagerness, intelligence, loyalty +and knowledge of her attainments.</p> +<p> +"<i>To Messrs. Promises & Brake</i>, says +the business man,—<i>Gentlemen comma +the pipes at my house were not properly +mended by your man yesterday comma +and there is still a leakage comma which +is causing both damage and inconvenience +full stop Please let me have comma +in reply to this comma an assurance +that someone shall be sent round at once +dash in a taxi comma if necessary full +stop. If such an assurance cannot be +given comma I shall call in another +firm and refuse to pay your account full +stop. Since the new trouble is due to +your employee's own negligence comma +I look to you to give this job priority +over all others full stop. My messenger +waits full stop. I am comma yours +faithfully comma.</i> Let me have it at +once and tell the boy to get a taxi."</p> + +<h4>II.</h4> +<p> +None of the plumbers sent any men.</p> + + <hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%;"> +<a href="images/105.png"><img width="100%" src="images/105.png" alt="The Brothers Tingo..." /></a> + +<h4><span class="sc">"The Brothers Tingo, who are exempted from military service, do their +bit by helping to train ladies who are going on the land."</span></h4></div> + + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"In some courts the carrying of matches +has been regarded as a light offence, but this +will not be the case in future."—<i>Irish Times.</i> +</blockquote> + +We note the implied rebuke to the +jester on the Bench. + + <hr /> + +<h3>SONGS OF FOOD-PRODUCTION.</h3> + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Mustard-and-Cress in Mayfair,</p> + <p class="i2">Belgravia's Winter Greens;</p> +<p>None so nicely as <i>they</i> fare</p> + <p class="i2">Save Cox's Kidney Beans;</p> +<p>Mustard-and-Cress in boxes,</p> + <p class="i2">Greens in the jardinière,</p> +<p>And a trellis of Beans at Cox's,</p> + <p class="i2">Facing Trafalgar Square.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Lady Biffington's daughters</p> + <p class="i2">Are mulching the Greens with Clay;</p> +<p>Lady Smiffington waters</p> + <p class="i2">The Mustard-and-Cress all day;</p> +<p>And Cox's cashiers (those oners!)</p> + <p class="i2">Are feeling extremely rash,</p> +<p>For they're pinching the tips of the Runners</p> + <p class="i2">As they never would pinch your cash.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Mighty is Mayfair's Mustard,</p> + <p class="i2">The Cress is hardy and hale;</p> +<p>Belgravia's housemaids dust hard</p> + <p class="i2">To keep the dust from the Kale;</p> +<p>But Cox's cashiers look solemn,</p> + <p class="i2">For their Beans (which sell by the sack)</p> +<p>Would cover the Nelson Column</p> + <p class="i2">If they didn't keep pinching them back.</p> +</div></div> + + <hr /> + + +<h4><span class="sc">"Weather at Health Resorts.</span></h4> + +<table align="center" border="0" summary="Weather at Health Resorts"> +<tr> + <td width="20%"> </td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td width="10%"> </td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td colspan="3">Temp.</td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td width="20%"> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td>Sunshine.</td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td width="10%">Max.</td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td width="10%">Min.</td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td>Weather.</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td>Felixstowe<br /><br /><br /></td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td>0.0<br /><br /><br /></td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td>22<br /><br /><br /></td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td>29<br /><br /><br /></td> + <td width="2%"> </td> + <td>Some snow."<br /><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p class="author"><i>Morning Paper.</i></p> + + +<p>And some thermometer.</p> + + <hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page106" id="page106"></a>[pg 106]</span> + + +<h3>PETHERTON'S DONKEY;</h3> + +<h4><span class="sc">or, Patriotism and Publicity.</span></h4> +<p> +I hadn't had a letter-writing bout +with Petherton for some time, and, +feeling in need of a little relaxation, I +seized the opportunity afforded by +Petherton's installing a very noisy +donkey in his paddock adjoining my +garden, and wrote to him as follows:—</p> +<blockquote> +<span class="sc">Dear Mr. Petherton</span>,—I do not +like making complaints against a +neighbour, as you know, but the new +tenant of your field does not seem to +argue a good selection on your part, +unless his braying has a more soothing +effect on you than it has on me.</blockquote> + +<p class="author"> +Yours sincerely, +<span class="sc">Harry J. Fordyce.</span></p> + +<p> +I was evidently in luck, as I drew +Petherton's literary fire at once.</p> +<blockquote> +<span class="sc">Sir</span> (he wrote),—I should have +thought that you would have been the +last person in the world to object to +this particular noise. Allow me to inform +you that I purchased the donkey +for several family and personal reasons +which cannot possibly concern you.</blockquote> + +<p class="author"> +Faithfully yours, +<span class="sc">Frederick Petherton.</span></p> + +<p> +I translated this letter rather freely +for my own ends, and replied:—</p> +<blockquote> +<span class="sc">Dear Petherton</span>,—I apologise. I +had no idea that the animal was in any +way connected with your family. If it +is a poor relation I must say you are +fortunate in being able to fob him (or +should it be her?) off so easily, as he +(or she) appears to live a life of comparative +luxury, at little cost, I should +imagine, to yourself. I shall be glad to +know whether the animal, in exercising +its extraordinary vocal powers, is +calling for his (or her) mate, or merely +showing off for the amusement of +your fascinating poultry who share its +pleasaunce.</blockquote> +<blockquote> +Can't you possibly fit the brute with +a silencer, as the noise it makes is disturbing, +especially to me, my study +window being very close to the hedge?</blockquote> + +<p class="author"> +Yours sincerely, +<span class="sc">Harry Fordyce.</span></p> + +<blockquote> +P.S.—I am thinking of laying down +a bed of poisoned carrots for early use. +Perhaps with your chemical knowledge +you can suggest an effective top-dressing +for them.</blockquote> +<p> +Petherton rose to the bait and wrote—the +same night—as follows:—</p> +<blockquote> +<span class="sc">Sir</span>,—In your unfortunate correspondence +with me you have always +shown yourself better at rudeness than +repartee. Did you not learn at school +the weakness of the <i>tu quoque</i> line of +argument? You speak of your study +window being near my field. The +name "study" suggests literary efforts. +Is it in your case merely a room devoted +to the penning of senseless and +impertinent letters to unoffending neighbours, +who have something better to +do than waste their time reading and +answering them? I hope this letter +will be the last one I shall find it necessary +to write to you.</blockquote> +<blockquote> +<i>Re</i> your postscript. Try prussic acid, +but pray do not confine it to the toilets +of your carrots. A few drops on the +tongue would, I am sure, make you +take a less distorted view of things, and +you would cease to worry over such +trifles as the braying of a harmless +animal. </blockquote> + +<p class="author"> +Faithfully yours, +<span class="sc">Frederick Petherton.</span></p> + +<p> +Of course I simply had to reply to +this, but made no reference to the <i>tu +quoque</i> question. He had evidently +failed to grasp, or had ignored, the +rather obvious suggestion in the last +few words of my first letter on the +subject. I wrote:—</p> +<blockquote> +<span class="sc">My dear Chap</span>,—Thanks so much +for your prompt reply and valuable +information about prussic acid. There +was, however, one omission in the prescription. +You didn't say on whose +tongue the acid should be placed. If +you meant on the donkey's it seems an +excellent idea. I'll try it, so excuse +more now, as the chemist's will be +closed in a few minutes.</blockquote> + +<p class="author"> +Yours in haste, +<span class="sc">Harry F.</span></p> + +<p> +Petherton was getting angry, and +his reply was terse and venomous:—</p> +<blockquote> +<span class="sc">Sir</span>,—Yes, I did mean the donkey's. +It will cure both his stupid braying and +his habit of writing absurd and childish +letters.</blockquote> +<blockquote> +But if you poison <i>my</i> donkey it will +cost you a good deal more than you +will care to pay, especially in war-time.</blockquote> +<blockquote> +It is a pity you're too old for the +army; you might have been shot by +now.</blockquote> + +<p class="author"> +Faithfully yours, +<span class="sc">Frederick Petherton.</span></p> + +<p> +I had now got on to my fourth speed, +and dashed off this reply:—</p> +<blockquote> +<span class="sc">Dear Freddy</span>,—I like you in all your +moods, but positively adore you when +you are angry. As a matter of fact I +am very fond of what are so absurdly +known as dumb animals, and am glad +now that the chemist's was closed last +night before I decided whether to go +there or not. <span class="sc">Balaam</span> himself would +have been proud to own your animal. +It roused me from my bed this morning +with what was unmistakably a very fine +asinine rendering of the first few bars +of "The Yeoman's Wedding," but unfortunately +it lost the swing of it before +the end of the first verse.</blockquote> + +<p class="author"> +Yours as ever, +<span class="sc">Harry.</span></p> + +<p> +Petherton gave up the contest; but +I let him have a final tweak after seeing +the announcement of his splendid and +public-spirited action to help on the +War Food scheme.</p> +<blockquote> +<span class="sc">Dear old Boy</span> (I wrote),—How +stupid you must have thought me all +this time! Only when I learnt from +the paragraph in this morning's <i>Surbury +Examiner</i> that, in response to the +suggestion of the Rural District Council, +you have lent your field to the poor +people of the neighbourhood for growing +War Food did I realise the meaning +of the dulcet-toned donkey's presence +in your field.</blockquote> +<blockquote> +The growing of more food at the +present time is an absolute necessity, +but it was left to you to discover this +novel method of proclaiming to Surbury +that here in its midst was land waiting +to be put to really useful purpose.</blockquote> +<blockquote> +I do not know which to admire the +more, your patriotism or the ingenuity +displayed in your selection of so admirable +a mouthpiece from among your +circle of friends. </blockquote> + +<p class="author"> +Yrs., +H.</p> + +<p> +Petherton has left it at that.</p> + + <hr /> + +<h2>NURSERY RHYMES OF LONDON TOWN.</h2> + +<h4>(<span class="sc">Second Series.</span>)</h4> + +<h4>XVIII.</h4> + +<h3><span class="sc">Bayswater.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The Bays came down to water—</p> + <p class="i2">Neigh! Neigh! Neigh!</p> +<p>And there they found the Brindled Mules—</p> + <p class="i2">Bray! Bray! Bray!</p> +<p>"How dare you muddy the Bays' water</p> + <p class="i2">That was as clear as glass?</p> +<p>How dare you drink of the Bays' water,</p> + <p class="i2">You children of an Ass?"</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"Why shouldn't we muddy your water?</p> + <p class="i2">Neigh! Neigh! Neigh!</p> +<p>Why shouldn't we drink of your water,</p> + <p class="i2">Pray, pray, pray?</p> +<p>If our Sire was a Coster's Donkey</p> + <p class="i2">Our Dam was a Golden Bay,</p> +<p>And the Mules shall drink of the Bays' water</p> + <p class="i2">Every other day!"</p> +</div></div> + + +<h4>XIX.</h4> + +<h3><span class="sc">Kentish Town.</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>As I jogged by a Kentish Town</p> + <p class="i2">Delighting in the crops,</p> +<p>I met a Gipsy hazel-brown</p> + <p class="i2">With a basketful of hops.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>"You Sailor from the Dover Coast</p> + <p class="i2">With your blue eyes full of ships,</p> +<p>Carry my basket to the oast</p> + <p class="i2">And I'll kiss you on the lips."</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Once she kissed me with a jest,</p> + <p class="i2">Once with a tear—</p> +<p>O where's the heart was in my breast</p> + <p class="i2">And the ring was in my ear?</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page107" id="page107"></a>[pg 107]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<a href="images/107.png"><img width="100%" src="images/107.png" alt="Boy! Bring some more coal!" /></a> + +<h4><span class="sc">"<i>Head of Government Department</i> (<i>in his private room in recently-commandeered hotel</i>).<br /> "Boy! Bring some more coal!"</span></h4></div> + + + <hr /> + +<h3>WAR'S ROMANCES.</h3> +<blockquote class="note"> +[Now that fiction is occupying itself so +much with military matters, it is necessary +to warn the lady novelist—as it used to be +necessary in other days to warn her in relation +to sport—to cultivate accuracy. There is a +constant danger that the popular story will +include such passages as follow.] +</blockquote> +<p> +"Corporal Cuthbert Crewdson," said +the Colonel in a kindly voice, "your work +has been very satisfactory—so much +so that I have decided to promote you. +From to-day you will no longer be +Corporal, but Lance-Corporal." With +a grateful smile our hero saluted and +retired to draw his lance at the Adjutant's +stores.</p> + + <hr class="short" /> +<p> +"Darling," cried the handsome young +private, "I told the Colonel of our engagement, +and he said at once I might +bring you to tea at our Mess any Sunday +afternoon."</p> + + <hr class="short" /> +<p> +One night, as Private Jones and the +Sergeant-major were strolling arm-in-arm +through the High Street...</p> + + <hr class="short" /> +<p> +"Remember," said the old Major, +eyeing his eighteen-year-old subaltern +son with a shrewd affectionate glance, +"a little well-placed courtesy goes a +long way. For instance, if a Sergeant +should call you 'Sir,' never forget to +say 'Sir' to him."</p> + + <hr class="short" /> +<p> +Osbert, his cane dangling from his left +hand and with Mabel at his side, sailed +proudly down Oxford Street. Suddenly +a Tommy hove in sight. At once Osbert +passed his stick to his other hand, +leaving the left one free. The next +moment the man was saluting, and +Osbert, bringing up his left hand in +acknowledgment, passed on.</p> +<p> +"It is always well to be scrupulously +correct in these little details," +he explained.</p> + + <hr class="short" /> +<p> +Mildred, her heart beating rapidly, +stood shyly behind the muslin curtain +as George, looking very gallant in +khaki, strode past the window with +his frog hopping along at his side.</p> + + <hr class="short" /> +<p> +Sidney Bellairs, apparently so stern +and unbending on parade, was adored by +his men. Often he had been known, +when acting as "orderly officer" (as the +officer is called who has to keep order), +to carry round with him a light camp-stool, +which, with his unfailing charm +of manner, he would offer to some +weary sentry. "There, my boy, sit +down," he would say, without a trace +of condescension.</p> + + <hr class="short" /> +<p> +Lord Debenham succeeded because +even in small things he could look +ahead. "Ethelred," he would say +to his batman, "there is to be a field-day +to-morrow, so see that my haversack, +water-bottle and slacks are put +ready for me in the morning."</p> +<p> +"Very good, my lord," the orderly +would answer.</p> + + <hr class="short" /> +<p> +Marmaduke sprang forward. The +Hun's bomb, its pin withdrawn, was +about to explode. Coolly removing his +costly gold-and-diamond tie-pin, he +thrust this substitute into the appointed +place in the terrible sizzling +bomb, and stood back with a little +smile. The next moment his General +stepped towards him and pinned to his +breast the Victoria Cross.</p> + + <hr class="short" /> +<p> +Colonel Blood belonged to the old +school—irascible, even explosive, but +at bottom a heart of gold. Often after +thrashing a subaltern with his cane for +some neglect of duty he would smile +suddenly and invite the offender to dine +with him at the Regimental Mess as if +nothing had happened.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page108" id="page108"></a>[pg 108]</span> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<a href="images/108.png"><img width="100%" src="images/108.png" alt="Oh, I didn't want to get out. I only wanted to show my little Fido where he was born." /></a> + +<p><i>Lady</i> (<i>asking for the third time</i>). "<span class="sc">Have we reached No. 234 yet?</span>"</p> +<p> +<i>Conductor.</i> "<span class="sc">Yes, Mum. Here you are.</span>" [<i>Stops bus.</i>] </p> +<p> +<i>Lady.</i> <span class="sc">"Oh, I didn't want to get out. I only wanted to show my little Fido where he was born."</span></p></div> + + <hr /> + + + + +<h3>A NEW DANGER.</h3> +<p> +"I don't know if you realise," said +Ernest, "that since Army signalling +became fashionable a new danger confronts +us."</p> +<p> +"If you mean that an enthusiast +might start semaphoring unexpectedly +in a confined space and get his neighbour +in the eye, I may say that I have +thought of it," I answered. "But it +isn't worth worrying very much about. +He wouldn't do it more than once."</p> +<p> +"It isn't that," said Ernest. "It's +something much more subtle and insidious. +It is the growing tendency +in ordinary conversation to use 'Ack' +for A, 'Beer' for B, 'Emma' for M, +'Esses' for S, 'Toe' for T, etc. When +you told me you were going to see your +Aunt at 3 P.M., for instance, you said +'3 Pip Emma.' And it isn't as if you +were at all good at Semaphore or Morse +either.</p> +<p> +"Imagine," he continued, "the effect +upon a congregation of the announcement +from the pulpit that the Reverend +John Smith, Beer Ack, will preach next +Sunday. Or upon a meeting when told +that Mr. Carrington Ponk, J. Pip, will +now speak. Think of Aunt Jane and +all her Societies," he went on gloomily. +"Imagine her saying that she's going +to an Esses Pip G. meeting to-morrow. +It's a dreadful thought. It will extend +to people's initials, too. The great +T.P. will be Toe Pip <span class="sc">O'Connor</span>. Something +will have to be done about it."</p> +<p> +"There's only one thing to be done," +I said. "You must get into Parliament +and bring in a Bill about it. All might +yet be well if you were an Emma Pip."</p> + + <hr /> + +<h4>The Hungry Huns.</h4> + +<blockquote> +"The <i>Berliner Tageblatt's</i> correspondent +states that the ground at St. Pierre Vaast has +been converted into a marsh in which half-frozen +soldiers, wet to the skin and knee-deep +in mud, absorb the shells." +—<i>New Zealand Paper.</i></blockquote> + + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"The dispute, he claimed, was not started +by the employees, but by the employer making +sweeping reductions in the ages of the men." +—<i>Daily Paper.</i></blockquote> + +<p> +If he wants to do this sort of thing with +impunity he should employ women.</p> + + <hr /> + +<h4>A Food Problem.</h4> +<blockquote> +<span class="sc">Dear Mr. Punch</span>,—Please <i>do</i> tell +me. Must I count sausages under the +meat or the bread allowance? I do so +want to help my country <i>faithfully</i>. + +—Yours, <span class="sc">Worried Housewife.</span></blockquote> + + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"<span class="sc">Reward</span> 2s. 6d. Lost, a small Silver +Toothpick, value sentimental." + +—<i>Nottingham Evening Post.</i></blockquote> + +<p> +The latest thing in love-tokens.</p> + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"After a debate lasting three days, the +Senate rejected the motion approving Mr. +Wilson's Nose."—<i>The Bulletin (Lahore).</i></blockquote> + +<p> +The Senate has since shown its impartiality +by registering its profound disapproval +of the <span class="sc">Kaiser's</span> Cheek.</p> + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"A special constable has received the Silver +Medal of the Society for Protection of Life +from fire for his gallantry in mounting a +ladder at a local fire last May and rescuing a +cook."—<i>Daily Paper.</i></blockquote> + +<p> +It is understood that members of +the regular "force" consider that he +showed some presumption in not leaving +this particular task to them.</p> + + <hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page109" id="page109"></a>[pg 109]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<a href="images/109.png"><img width="100%" src="images/109.png" alt="BLIGHTED PROSPECTS." /></a> + +<h3>BLIGHTED PROSPECTS.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Bernstorff</span> <span style="font-weight:normal">(<i>bitterly</i>). "PRETTY MESS YOU'VE MADE OF IT WITH YOUR NEW +FRIGHTFULNESS. I'VE LOST MY JOB!"</span></p> +<p> +<span class="sc">Hindenburg</span> <span style="font-weight:normal">(<i>also bitterly</i>). "WELL, YOU'RE WELCOME TO MINE."</span></p></div> + + <hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page110" id="page110"></a>[pg 110]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<a href="images/110.png"><img width="100%" src="images/110.png" alt="Confound you! Why didn't you sneeze? I was counting on it." /></a> + +<p><i>Dug-out</i> (<i>who has been put off on the last three greens +by his caddie sneezing, and has now foozled his putt again</i>). +"<span class="sc">Confound you! +Why didn't you sneeze? I was counting on it.</span>"</p></div> + + <hr /> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> +<p> +<i>Wednesday, February 7th.</i>—<span class="sc">His +Majesty</span> opened Parliament to-day for +what we all hope will be the Victory +Session. But it will not be victory +without effort. That was the burden +of nearly all the speeches made to-day, +from the <span class="sc">King's</span> downwards. <span class="sc">His +Majesty</span>, who had left his crown and +robes behind, wore the workmanlike +uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet; and +the Peers had forgone their scarlet and +ermine in favour of khaki and sable. +When Lord <span class="sc">Stanhope</span>, who moved +the Address, ventured, in the course +of an oration otherwise sufficiently +sedate, to remark that "the great crisis +of the War had passed," Lord <span class="sc">Curzon</span> +was swift to rebuke this deviation into +cheerfulness. On the contrary, he declared, +we were now approaching "the +supreme and terrible climax of the +War." He permitted himself, however, +to impart one or two comforting +items of information with regard to the +arming of existing merchant-ships, the +construction of new tonnage and the +development of inventions for the discovery +and deletion of submarines. For +excellent reasons, no doubt, it was all +a little vague, but in one respect his +statement left nothing to be desired in +the way of precision. "The present +Government, in its seven weeks of +office, had taken but two large and one +small hotels," and is, I gather, marvelling +at its own moderation.</p> +<p> +I was a little disappointed with the +speeches of the Mover and Seconder +of the Address in the Commons, for +of recent years there has been a +great improvement in this difficult +branch of oratory. Sir <span class="sc">Hedworth +Meux</span> must, I think, have been +dazzled by the effulgence of his epaulettes, +which were certainly more highly +polished than his periods. When in +mufti he is much briefer and brighter. +As Mr. <span class="sc">Asquith</span> however found both +speeches "admirable," no more need +be said.</p> +<p> +The <span class="sc">Leader of the Opposition</span>, as +one must for convenience style him—though +in truth there is no Opposition, +in the strict sense of the word—just +said what he ought to have said. For +one brief moment he seemed to be +straying on to dangerous ground, when +he put some questions regarding the +scope of the coming Imperial Conference; +but the rest of his speech was +wholly in keeping with the peroration, +in which he pleaded that in the prosecution +of the Nation's aim there should +be "no jarring voices, no party cross-currents, +no personal or sectional distractions."</p> +<p> +Unfortunately there is a section of +the Commons over which he exercises +no control. When Mr. <span class="sc">Bonar Law</span>, as +Leader of the House, rose to reply, +the "jarring voices" of Mr. <span class="sc">Snowden</span> +and others of his kidney were heard in +chorus, calling for the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span>. +Mr. <span class="sc">Law</span> paid no attention to the +interruption. He cordially thanked +Mr. <span class="sc">Asquith</span> for his speech, "the best +possible testimony to the unity of this +country," and assured him that the +Imperial Conference would be primarily +concerned with the successful +prosecution of the War. The <span class="sc">German +Emperor</span> had proved himself a great +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page111" id="page111"></a>[pg 111]</span> +Empire-builder, but it was not his +own empire that he was building.</p> +<p> +Later on Mr. <span class="sc">Pringle</span> reverted to +the absence of the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span>, +which he, as a person of taste, interpreted +as "studied disrespect of the +House of Commons." In this view +he was supported by Mr. <span class="sc">King</span>. Mr. +<span class="sc">Lloyd George</span> must really be careful.</p> +<p> +Strange to say, no public notice was +taken of another distinguished absentee—the +Member for East Herts. A few +days ago, after a violent collision with +Mr. <span class="sc">Justice Darling</span>, Mr. <span class="sc">Pemberton-Billing</span> +announced his intention of +resigning his seat and submitting himself +for re-election. But since then we +have been given to understand that a +vote of confidence proposed by <span class="sc">Pemberton</span>, +seconded by <span class="sc">Billing</span>, and +carried unanimously by the hyphen, +had convinced him that, as in the +leading case of Mr. <span class="sc">Cecil Rhodes</span>, +"resignation can wait."</p> +<p> +<i>Thursday, February 8th.</i>—When we +read day by day long lists of merchant +vessels sunk by the enemy submarines +two questions occur to most of us. +How does the amount of tonnage lost +compare with the amount of new tonnage +put afloat, and what is the number +of submarines that the Navy has accounted +for in recent months? Mr. +<span class="sc">Flavin</span> put the first question to-day, +but found Sir <span class="sc">Leo Chiozza Money</span>, +who usually exudes statistics at every +pore, singularly reticent on the subject. +All he would say was that a large +programme of new construction was +in hand.</p> +<p> +Private Members blew off a great +volume of steam to-day on the proposal +of the Government to take the +whole time of the House. Scotsmen, +Irishmen and an Englishman or two +joined in the plea that at least they +should be allowed to introduce their +various little Bills, even if they did not +get any further. Perhaps if a Welshman +had joined the band they might +have been listened to. As it was, only +one of them received any comfort. This +was Mr. <span class="sc">Swift MacNeill</span>, who was +informed that the Bill to deprive the +enemy dukes of their British titles, for +which he has been clamouring these +two years, would shortly be introduced. +But for the rest Mr. <span class="sc">Bonar Law</span> was +not inclined at this crisis in our fate +to encourage the raising of questions, +most of them acutely controversial, +which would distract attention from +the War.</p> +<p> +On an amendment to the Address +Mr. <span class="sc">Leslie Scott</span> took up his brief for +the British farmer, who, deprived of his +skilled men and faced with higher prices +for fertilizers and feeding-stuffs, was expected +to grow more food without having +any certainty that he would be able +to dispose of it at a remunerative price. +Farming is always a bit of a gamble, +but in present conditions it beats the +Stock Exchange hollow. Some of the +proposals which Mr. <span class="sc">Scott</span> outlined to +improve the situation would have been +denounced as revolutionary three years +ago, and were a little too drastic even +now for Mr. <span class="sc">Prothero</span>. Squeezed +between the <span class="sc">War Minister</span> and the +<span class="sc">Food Controller</span>, the <span class="sc">Minister Of +Agriculture</span> rather resembles the +<i>Dormouse</i> in <i>Alice in Wonderland</i>; but +he is really quite all right, thank you. +Mr. <span class="sc">George Lambert</span> thinks that the +author of "The Psalms in Human Life" +is too saintly to tackle Lords <span class="sc">Derby</span> +and <span class="sc">Devonport</span>, but, if my memory +serves me, <span class="sc">David</span>—no allusion to the +<span class="sc">Premier</span>—had a rather pretty gift of +invective.</p> +<p> +Let no one say that England is not +at last awake. Mr. <span class="sc">Charles Bathurst</span> +to-night made the terrific announcement +that in some parts of the country +Masters of Hounds are—shooting +foxes.</p> +<p> +"This brings the War home," said +<span class="sc">Ferdinand the Fearful</span> when he +heard the news.</p> + + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%;"> +<a href="images/111.png"><img width="100%" src="images/111.png" alt="There is no verbal charge, Sir." /></a> + +<p><i>Jones</i> (<i>to cloak-room attendant</i>). "<span class="sc">How much?</span>"</p> +<p> +<i>Cloak-room Attendant.</i> "<span class="sc">There is no verbal charge, Sir.</span>"</p></div> + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"It was agreed to express satisfaction with +the announcement that the price fixed for the +potato crop of 1917 was not a miximum price."—<i>Scots Paper.</i> +</blockquote> +<p> +This must be the happy mean of which +we hear so much.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page112" id="page112"></a>[pg 112]</span> + + +<h3>THE RECENT TRUCE.</h3> +<p> +Students of geography know that +Ballybun is divided from the back +gardens of Kilterash by the pellucid +waters of that noble stream, the Bun, +which hurls itself over a barrier of old +tin-cans in a frantic effort to find the +sea. But they do not know that this +physical division, long ago bridged, is +nothing to the moral and political +division which will keep the two for +ever asunder.</p> +<p> +Several of our younger citizens have +written to me from the trenches to ask +how the War is progressing. I have +usually in reply quoted the remark of +one of their number on leaving +us for the Front after a short +holiday, that he was now looking +forward to a little peace +and rest. I wish here to add +a postscript to this concerning +a recent unexpected truce.</p> +<p> +Political geography is not +written as it should be, so that +there may be people who have +not even heard of the Great +War between Ballybun and +Kilterash. No one knows for +certain when it started, or why. +A local antiquary, after prolonged +study of chronicles, memorials, +rolls and records, to +say nothing of local churchyards, +refers it with some confidence +to the reign of <span class="sc">Henry</span> +II. (<span class="sc">Louis</span> VII. being King of +France, in the pontificate of +<span class="sc">Adrian</span> IV. and so on), and to +the forcible abduction of a pig +(called the White Pearl) by the +then ruling monarch of Kilterash. +The Editor of <i>The Kilterash +Curfew</i>, in one of his +recent "Readings for the Day +of Rest," remarked that Christian +charity compelled him to +hurl this foul aspersion back in the +teeth of this so-called antiquary; the +whole world knew that the pig had +been born in the parish of Kilterash, +but had "strayed" across the Bun, +as things too often had the habit of +straying.</p> +<p> +I am the "so-called antiquary." My +little pamphlet proves in less than +three hundred pages the truth of my +allegation concerning the abduction of +the White Pearl, giving the original +texts on which I rely and the genealogies +of all concerned in a sordid story.</p> +<p> +Since 1157, as far as history records, +we have been afflicted with only two +periods of truce. One was when, on +hearing of the foul wrong done by the +German Brute in Belgium, we united +in enlisting recruits for our local regiment. +This truce was broken by my +worthy friend, the Editor of <i>The Curfew</i>, +who pointed out, more in anger than in +sorrow, that Ballybun had sent six men +fewer than Kilterash. The second +truce—again broken by the enemy—concerned +myself. Wishing to add, if +possible, to the evidence from monuments +contained in my pamphlet, I +was copying an inscription I had only +just discovered in the disused churchyard +of Killyburnbrae, when one of +these light Atlantic showers sprang up +and soaked me to the backbone. The +result was influenza and a high temperature, +which rose while I was reading +<i>The Curfew</i> upon my brochure, +"<i>The White Pearl of Ballybun</i>, an Impartial +Examination with the Original +Documents herein set out and now for +the first time deciphered by a Member +of the Society of Antiquarians. Dedicated +to All Lovers of the Truth. +Printed by the Ballybun Binnacle Press."</p> +<p> +<i>The Curfew</i> said of this fair statement +of the evidence (with the original +documents, mind you) that it smacked +of German scholarship and their graveyard +style of doing things. My blood +boiled at this, and to keep me cool my +niece, who lives with me, pulled down +all the blinds, as the sun was strong.</p> +<p> +An old fish-woman passing by saw +this and said, "Well, well, the poor old +fellow's gone at last! A decent man +in his time, with no taste in fish! We +must all come to it." From her the +news spread forty miles on either side +of her and reached the Editor of <i>The +Curfew</i> in the middle of a philippic. +Next morning I was astounded to read +in his editorial columns: "Our distinguished +neighbour and friend—if he +will allow us to call him so—is now no +more; in other words is gone ... as +<span class="sc">Virgil</span> remarks ... famous antiquarian +... scrupulous and methodical, +and, as we remarked in our last +issue, reminiscent of the palmy days of +the best German monumental scholarship +... our slight differences never +affected the esteem in which we held +him as a patriot, citizen, ratepayer and +Man...."</p> +<p> +Now this was kindly and fair. I +have written to my worthy +friend and have proposed to +dedicate to him my forthcoming +work (non-partisan) on the +"Slant Observable in Some +Church-Spires, Part I." When +he had to unbury me, war had +to be resumed—it was his side +that insisted upon it—but as +far as the two chieftains are +concerned it is a war without +bitterness. He now introduces +his attacks with "Our honoured +and able antiquarian +friend"; while my answers +breathe such sentiments as +"The genial editor of that +well-conducted organ."</p> + + <hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%;"> +<a href="images/112.png"><img width="100%" src="images/112.png" alt="FOOD VALUES IN OUR RESTAURANTS." /></a> + +<h4>FOOD VALUES IN OUR RESTAURANTS.</h4> +<p> +<i>Customer.</i> "<span class="sc">What do you suggest for to-day, Miss?</span>"</p> +<p> +<i>Waitress</i> (<i>late of Girton</i>). "<span class="sc">Well, Sir, roast mutton, +two vegetables and sweets will give you the necessary +protein, calories and carbo-hydrates.</span>"</p></div> + + <hr /> + +<h3>As You Were.</h3> + +<blockquote> +"Blow to Narkets. Rise of nearly +400 points. Cotton jump. Germany's +note breaks the market." + +—<i>Liverpool Echo, Feb. 1.</i></blockquote> +<blockquote> +"Blow to Markets. Fall of nearly +400 points. Cotton slump." + +—<i>Same Paper, Later Edition.</i></blockquote> + +<p> +In spite of this sensational +transformation of a jump into +a slump we are glad to see that +typographically at any rate +the markets had recovered a little from +their early derangement.</p> + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"Supposing a man has porridge and bacon for +breakfast and a cut from the point or a shop or +steak for luncheon he may find that he has +consumed his meat allowance for the day." + +—<i>Daily Mail</i> (<i>Manchester Edition</i>).</blockquote> + +<p> +Is not the food problem sufficiently +difficult already without these additional +complications? The man who wants +a whole shop for his luncheon will get +no sympathy from us.</p> + + <hr /> +<p> +From a list of Canon <span class="sc">Masterman's</span> +lectures on "The War and the Smaller +Nations of Europe":—</p> + +<blockquote> +"April 2nd (possibly), 'The Reconstruction +of Europe.'"—<i>Western Morning News.</i> +</blockquote> +<p> +We commend the lecturer's caution, +but hope it will prove to have been +superfluous.</p> + + <hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page113" id="page113"></a>[pg 113]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<a href="images/113.png"><img width="100%" src="images/113.png" alt="...during the recent cold spell." /></a> + +<p><span class="sc">This is not a scene from a revue—it is hardly dull enough for that—but an everyday performance on the +platform of any railway station during the recent cold spell.</span></p></div> + + <hr /> + +<h3>A FORWARD MINX.</h3> +<p> +The garden wall was high, yet not +so high but that any young lady bent +on attracting the notice of her neighbours +could look over it. Miss Dot +indeed regarded an outside flight of +steps which led to an upper storey as +an appointed amelioration to the hours +which she was expected to spend in +the garden, for it was an easy scramble +from the stairs to the top of the wall, +whence she could survey the world. +To be sure the wall was narrow as +well as high, but a timorous gait shows +off a pretty figure, and slight nervousness +adds a pathetic expression to a +pretty face; to both of which advantages +Dot was not, it is to be believed, +altogether indifferent when khaki coats +dwelt the other side of that wall.</p> +<p> +On this particular day she was trying +to attract notice in so unrestrained a +manner that her mother remarked it +from an upper window. But mothers, +we are told in these latter days, are not +always the wisest guardians of their +"flapper" daughters. This mother had +a decided <i>penchant</i> for a khaki coat herself; +only she demanded braid on the +cuff and a smartly cut collar, and these +she would greet in the street with a +tender act of homage which rarely +failed to win admiring attention. But +for a daughter who would dash down +the road after a Tommy she had contempt +rather than disapproval. So +she watched with interest, but, alas! +with no idea of interference.</p> +<p> +At first there were only "civvies" +about, and though the admiration of any +youthful male was dear to Dot's heart, +and though chaff and blandishments +were not wanting, still the wall <i>was</i> high, +and she lacked the resolve to descend. +But presently two khaki coats appeared +and the matter grew more serious. It +was evident that it was not principle +or modesty that held her back, but just +timidity, for she responded eagerly to +the advances of her admirers, but could +not quite pluck up courage for that long +jump down. Affairs grew shameless, +for the khaki coats fetched a ladder to +assist the elopement; but Dot made it +clear that there were difficulties in that +method of flight, though she wished +there were not. At last she was enticed +to a lower portion of the wall, +and there, half screened by shrubs, +she was lifted off by the shoulders, +deliciously reluctant, and received into +the cordial embrace of an enthusiastic +soldiery.</p> +<p> +And her mother retired to the sofa!</p> +<p> +Shortly afterwards musketry instruction +was proceeding in a public +place; and behind the little group of +learners sat Dot, in the seventh heaven +of joy, drinking it all in with eager +attention. And the instructing officer +did not seem to mind.</p> +<p> +"How sad and mad and bad it was," +a theme for the moralist, the conscientious +objector, the Army reformer, the +social reformer, the statistician. Yet +perhaps even their solemn faces might +relax to-day at the sight of a long-legged +Airedale puppy marching at the +head of the battalion to which she has +appointed herself mascot.</p> + + <hr /> + +<h4>Quis Custodiet?</h4> + +<blockquote> +"Engineer desires position as Manager of +Works Manager."—<i>The Aeroplane</i>. +</blockquote> + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"—— and Sons will sell by Auction four +Shorthand and Jersey Cows." + +—<i>Morning Paper</i>.</blockquote> + + +<p> +As the <span class="sc">Food Controller's</span> Department +is said to be still short of clerks, +he may like to bid for these accomplished +creatures.</p> + + <hr /> + + + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page114" id="page114"></a>[pg 114]</span> + + +<h3>AT THE PLAY.</h3> + +<h4><span class="sc">"Felix gets a Month."</span ></h4> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 33%;"> +<a href="images/114.png"><img width="100%" src="images/114.png" alt="BORROWED PLUMES IN A MAYOR'S NEST." /></a> + +<h4>BORROWED PLUMES IN A MAYOR'S NEST.</h4> +<p> +<i>Alderman Twentyman .</i> Mr. <span class="sc">O.B. Clarence</span >.</p> +<p> +<i>Felix Delany . . .</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Gordon Ash</span >.</p></div> + +<p> +This "whimsical comedy," made by +Mr. <span class="sc">Leon M. Lion</span > out of a novel by the +late <span class="sc">Tom Gallon</span >, began in a distinctly +intriguing mood. <i>Felix</i> had an uncle, a +sport, on whom he had once played +a scurvy practical joke. This highly +tolerant victim eventually cut up for a +round million, which he left to nephew +<i>Felix</i> on condition that he should enter +Umberminster as naked as the day he +was born and earn his living therein +for a full calendar month—a palpable +posthumous hit to the old man. <i>Felix</i> +accordingly, equipped as laid down in +the will, is left by the family solicitor +in a wood, and, after a night and a +day in hiding, appears shivering at the +Mayor's parlour window, abstracts a +rug for temporary relief, and prevails +upon the maid, a romantic little orphan +(who had been reading about river-gods +and mistakes <i>Felix</i> for one), to +borrow a suit of the Mayor's clothes—into +which he gets in time to interview +that worthy when he returns with his +grim lady. "You'll get a month," says +she with damnable iteration; and the +resourceful <i>Felix</i>, with an eye to the +whimsical will, whimsically suggests +that justice would be better fulfilled by +his putting in the month at the Mayor's +house as odd-job man than by his +being conveyed to the county jail. And +the Mayor whimsically agrees.</p> +<p> +After that, I regret to say, honest +whimsicality took wing, and the show +became merely—shall we say?—eupeptic. +And certainly a much more +elaborate meal than my lord <span class="sc">Devonport</span > +allowed me would be required to +induce a mood sufficiently tolerant to +face without impatience the welter +which followed. The three incredible +people—mercenary virgin, heavy father +and aimless smiling villain—that walked +straight out of the Elephant and Castle +into the Second Act were not, I suspect, +any elaborate (and quite irrelevant) joke +of the actor-author's at the expense +of the transpontine method, but just +queer puppets brought on to disentangle +the complications, though I confess I +half thought that the villain, Mr. <span class="sc">Lawrence +Leyton</span >, was pulling our legs +with a quite deliberate burlesque. On +the whole I am afraid this play is but +another wreck on that old snag of the +dramatised novel.</p> +<p> +But there were plenty of isolated good +things, such as Mr. <span class="sc">O.B. Clarence's</span > +really excellent Mayor, puzzled, pompous, +eagle-pecked. Miss <span class="sc">Florence +Ivor</span >, the eagle in question, gave a +shrewd and shrewish portrait of a +wife gey ill to live with. Mr. <span class="sc">Reginald +Bach's</span > very entertaining imaginary +portrait of a faithful boy scout was a +stroke of genius, his "call of the wild" +being by far the best whim of the +evening. Miss <span class="sc">Eva Leonard-Boyne</span > as +<i>Ninetta</i>, the orphan, did her little job +tenderly and prettily, but I couldn't +believe in <i>Ninetta</i> in that galley, and I +doubt if she did. Mr. <span class="sc">Gordon Ash</span > was +the debonair hero. I do most solemnly +entreat him to consider the example of +some of the elders in his profession who +have adopted a laugh as their principal +bit of business. It may turn into a +millstone. Was he not laughing the +same laugh on this very stage in a +very different part three days ago? He +was. If he got a month, laugh-barred, +he would profit by the sentence. For +he has jolly good stuff in him.</p> +<p class="author"> +T.</p> + + <hr /> + +<h4>More Commandeering.</h4> +<p> +From a report of the <span class="sc">Prime Minister's</span > +speech at Carnarvon:—</p> + +<blockquote> +"There are eight million houses in this +country. Let us have VICTORY GUM +FACTORY, Nelson, Lancs."—<i>Daily Dispatch.</i> +</blockquote> +<p> +But surely he does not want to be +known as "The Stickit Minister."</p> + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"A grocer in a London suburb complains +that on Saturday he and his staff were 'run +o ffthei rlegs by the extraordinary demands of +customers.'"—<i>Westminster Gazette.</i> +</blockquote> +<p> +We congratulate the printer on his +gallant effort to depict the situation.</p> + + <hr /> + +<blockquote> +"Wanted, Cook Generals, House Parlourmaids; +fiends might suit."—<i>Irish Paper.</i> +</blockquote> +<p> +Discussion of the eternal servant problem +is apt to be one-sided; it was +quite time that we heard from the +<i>advocatus diaboli</i>.</p> + + <hr /> + +<h3>TO STEPHEN LEACOCK</h3> + +<blockquote class="note"> +(<i>Professor of Political Economy at +McGill University, Montreal, and +author of "Further Foolishness" and +other notable works of humour</i>). +</blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> + +<p>The life that is flagrantly double,</p> + <p class="i2">Conflicting in conduct and aim,</p> +<p>Is seldom untainted by trouble</p> + <p class="i2">And commonly closes in shame;</p> +<p>But no such anxieties pester</p> + <p class="i2">Your dual existence, which links</p> +<p>The functions of don and of jester—</p> + <p class="i6">High thought and high jinks.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Your earliest venture perhaps is</p> + <p class="i2">Unique in the rapture intense</p> +<p>Displayed in these riotous Lapses</p> + <p class="i2">From all that could savour of sense,</p> +<p>Recalling the "goaks" and the gladness</p> + <p class="i2">Of one whom we elders adored—</p> +<p>The methodical midsummer madness</p> + <p class="i6">Of <span class="sc">Artemus Ward</span >.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>With you, O enchanting Canadian,</p> + <p class="i2">We laughed till you gave us a stitch</p> +<p>In our sides at the wondrous Arcadian</p> + <p class="i2">Exploits of the indolent rich;</p> +<p>We loved your satirical sniping,</p> + <p class="i2">And followed, far over "the pond,"</p> +<p>The lure of your whimsical piping</p> + <p class="i6">Behind the Beyond.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>In place of the squalor that stretches</p> + <p class="i2">Unchanged o'er the realist's page,</p> +<p>The sunshine that glows in your Sketches</p> + <p class="i2">Is potent our griefs to assuage;</p> +<p>And when, on your mettlesome charger,</p> + <p class="i2">Full tilt against reason you go,</p> +<p>Your Lunacy's finer and Larger</p> + <p class="i6">Than any I know.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The faults of ephemeral fiction,</p> + <p class="i2">Exotic, erotic or smart,</p> +<p>The vice of delirious diction,</p> + <p class="i2">The latest excesses of Art—</p> +<p>You flay in felicitous fashion,</p> + <p class="i2">With dexterous choice of your tools,</p> +<p>A scourge for unsavoury passion,</p> + <p class="i6">A hammer for fools.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And yet, though so freakish and dashing,</p> + <p class="i2">You are not the slave of your fun,</p> +<p>For there's nobody better at lashing</p> + <p class="i2">The crimes and the cant of the Hun;</p> +<p>Anyhow, I'd be proud as a peacock</p> + <p class="i2">To have it inscribed on my tomb:</p> +<p>"He followed the footsteps of <span class="sc">Leacock</span ></p> + <p class="i6">In banishing gloom."</p> +</div> +</div> + + <hr /> +<p> +From an Indian clerk's letter to his +employer:—</p> + +<blockquote> +"I am glad that the War is progressing +very favourably for the Allies. We long for +the day when, according to Lord Curzon's +saying, 'The Bengal Lancers will petrol the +streets of Berlin.'" +</blockquote> +<p> +Quite the right spirit.</p> + + <hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page115" id="page115"></a>[pg 115]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<a href="images/115.png"><img width="100%" src="images/115.png" alt="Look, Bill—soldiers!" /></a> + +<p class="center"><i>Awe-struck Tommy (from the trenches).</i> <span class="sc">"Look, Bill—soldiers!"</span ></p></div> + + <hr /> + +<h3>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</p> +<p> +It may be as well for me to confess at once the humiliating +fact that I am not, and never have been, an Etonian. +If that be a serious disqualification for life in general, how +much more serious must it be for the particular task of +reviewing a book which is of Eton all compact, a book, for +example, like <i>Memories of Eton Sixty Years Ago</i>, by <span class="sc">A.C. +Ainger</span >, with contributions from <span class="sc">N.G. Lyttelton</span > and +<span class="sc">John Murray</span > (<span class="sc">Murray</span >). For I have never been "up to" +anybody; I have never been present at "absence"; I have +no real understanding of the difference between a "tutor" +and a "dame"; I call a "<i>pœna</i>" by the plebeian name of +"imposition"; and, until I had read Mr. <span class="sc">Aingers's</span > book, I +had never heard of the verb "to brosier" or the noun substantive +"bever." Altogether my condition is most deplorable. +Yet there are some alleviations in my lot, and one of +them has been the reading of this delightful book. I found it +most interesting, and can easily imagine how Etonians will +be absorbed in it, for it will revive for them many an old +and joyful memory of the days that are gone. Mr. <span class="sc">Ainger</span > +discourses, with a <i>mitis sapientia</i> that is very attractive, on +the fashions and manners of the past and the gradual process +of their development into the Eton of the present. +He is proud, as every good Etonian must be, of Eton as it +exists, but now and again he hints that the Eton of an +older time was in some respects a simpler and a better +place. The mood, however, never lasts long, and no one +can quarrel with the way in which it is expressed. General +<span class="sc">Lyttelton</span >, too, in one of his contributions, relates how +on his return from a long stay in India he visited Eton, +expecting to be modestly welcomed by shy and ingenuous +youths, and how, instead, he was received and patronised +by young but sophisticated men of the world. The +<span class="sc">General</span >, I gather, was somewhat chilled by his experience. +Altogether this book is emphatically one without which no +Etonian's library can be considered complete.</p> + + <hr /> +<p> +Perhaps of all our War correspondents Mr. <span class="sc">Philip Gibbs</span > +contrives to give in his despatches the liveliest sense of the +movement, the pageantry and the abominable horror of +war. Pageantry there is, for all the evil boredom and +weariness of this pit-and-ditch business, and Mr. <span class="sc">Gibbs</span > +sees finely and has an honest pen that avoids the easy +<i>cliché</i>. You might truthfully describe his book, <i>The Battles +of the Somme</i> (<span class="sc">Heinemann</span >), as an epic of the New Armies. +He never seems to lose his wonder at their courage and +their spirit, and always with an undercurrent of sincerely +modest apology for his own presence there with his notebook, +a mere chronicler of others' gallantry. This chronicle +begins at the glorious 1st of July and ends just before +Beaumont-Hamel, which the author miserably missed, +being sent home on sick leave. It is a book that may well +be one of those preserved and read a generation hence by +men who want to know what the great War was really +like. God knows it ought to help them to do something to +prevent another. Yet there is nothing morbid in it. As the +sergeant thigh-deep in a flooded trench said, "You know, +Sir, it doesn't do to take this war seriously." The +armies of a nation that takes its pleasures sadly take +their bitter pains with a grin; and that grin is what has +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page116" id="page116"></a>[pg 116]</span> +made them such an unexpectedly tough proposition to the +All-Seriousest.</p> + + <hr /> +<p> +An old adage warns us never to buy a "pig in a poke." +Equally good advice for the heroines of fiction or drama +would be never under any circumstances to marry a bridegroom +in a mask. In more cases than I can recall, neglect +of this simple precaution has led to a peck of trouble. I +am thinking now of <i>Yvonne</i>, leading lady in <i>The Mark of +Vraye</i> (<span class="sc">Hutchinson</span >). I admit that poor <i>Yvonne</i> had more +excuse than most. Hers was what you might call a hard +case. On the one hand there was the villain <i>Philippe</i>, a +most naughty man, swearing that she was in his power, +and calling for instant marriage at the hands of <i>Father +Simon</i>, who happened to be present. On the other hand, +the gentleman in the mask revealed a pair of eyes that poor +<i>Yvonne</i> rashly supposed to belong to someone for whom +she had more than a partiality. So when he suggested +that the proposed ceremony should take place during +<i>Philippe's</i> temporary absence +from the stage, +with himself as substitute, +<i>Yvonne</i> (astonished +perhaps at her own luck +so early in the plot) +simply jumped at the +idea. Then, of course, +the deed being done, off +comes the mask, and +behold the triumphant +countenance of her bitterest +foe, <i>Charles de +Montbrison</i>, whom she +herself had disfigured as +the (supposed) murderer +of her brother. Act drop +and ten minutes' interval. +Need I detail for +you the subsequent +course of this marriage +of inconvenience? The +courage and magnanimity +of one side, the +feminine cruelty melting +at last to love, and finally +the inevitable duologue +of reconciliation, through which I can never help hearing +the rustle of opera-cloaks and the distant cab-whistles. +Charming, charming. Mr. <span class="sc">H.B. Somerville</span > has furnished +a pleasant entertainment, and one that (like all good +readers or spectators) you will enjoy none the less because +of its entire familiarity.</p> + + <hr /> +<p> +<i>The Flight of Mariette</i> (<span class="sc">Chapman and Hall</span >) is a slender +volume, whose simplicity gives it a poignancy both incongruous +and grim. Much of it you might compare to the +diary of a butterfly before and whilst being broken on the +wheel. <i>Mariette</i>, the jolly little maid of Antwerp, was so +tender and harmless a butterfly; and the machine that +broke her life and drove her to the martyrdom of exile was +so huge and cruel a thing. How cruel in its effects it is +well for us just now to be again reminded, lest, in these days +of hurrying horrors, remembrance should be weakened. +To that extent therefore Miss <span class="sc">Gertrude E.M. Vaughan</span > +has done good service in compiling this human document +of accusation. In a preface Mr. <span class="sc">John Galsworthy</span > +pleads the cause of our refugee guests, not so much for +charity as for comprehension. Certainly, <i>The Flight of +Mariette</i> will do much to further such understanding. I +think I need only add that half the proceeds of its sale will +go to feed the seven million Belgians still in Belgium (prey +to the twin wolves of Prussia and starvation) for you to +see that three shillings and sixpence could hardly be better +used than in the purchase of a copy.</p> + + <hr /> +<p> +I was beginning to wonder whether Mr. <span class="sc">Eden Phillpotts</span > +was suffering from writer's cramp, so much longer than +usual does it seem since I heard from him. Now, however, +my anxiety is relieved by <i>My Devon Year</i> (<span class="sc">Scott</span >), a +delightful book which could have come from no other pen +than his. It is a marvel how many fragrant things he +still finds to say, and with what inexhaustible freshness, +about his beloved county. I hesitate to give these sketches +an indiscriminate recommendation, because to those who +walk through the country with closed eyes they will have +little or no meaning; but if you are in love with beauty +and can appreciate its translation into exquisite language +you will draw from them a real and lasting joy. Let me +confess now that I once +asked Mr. <span class="sc">Phillpotts</span > to +give Devonshire a rest, +and that I accept <i>My +Devon Year</i> as a convincing +proof that this +request was ill-considered.</p> + + <hr /> +<p> +I wish Mr. <span class="sc">Douglas +Sladen</span > would not throw +so many bouquets at his +characters. <i>Roger Wynyard</i>, +the hero of <i>Grace +Lorraine</i> (<span class="sc">Hutchinson</span >), +was really just a very +ordinary youth, but when +I discovered that he was +"the fine flower of our +Public-School system," +"as chivalrous as a +Bayard," and so forth, +I began—unfairly, perhaps, +but quite irresistibly—to +entertain a +considerable prejudice +against him. Let me +hasten, however, to add that Mr. <span class="sc">Sladen</span > has packed his +novel with the kind of incident which appeals to the +popular mind, though his conclusion may cause a shock to +those who think that our divorce-laws are in need of +reform. In the matter of style Mr. <span class="sc">Sladen</span > is content +with something short of perfection. "It was easier for her +to forgive a man, with his happy-go-lucky nature, for +getting into trouble, than to forgive his getting out again +by not being sufficiently careful not to add to the other +person's misfortune." For myself, I do not find it so easy +to forgive these happy-go-lucky methods in a writer who +ought to know better by now.</p> + + <hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%;"> +<a href="images/116.png"><img width="100%" src="images/116.png" alt="Who goes there?" /></a> +<p> +<i>Sentry</i>. "<span class="sc">Who goes there?</span >"</p> +<p> +<i>Tommy</i>. "<span class="sc">Friend</span >."</p> +<p> +<i>Sentry</i> (<i>on recognising voice</i>). "<span class="sc">Friend! I don't think. Why, +you're the chap who bagged my mess-tin before the last kit-inspection.</span >"</p></div> + + <hr /> + +<h4>The War Loan; a Last Appeal.</h4> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> + +<p>Now, by the memory of our gallant dead,</p> + <p class="i2">And by our hopes of peace through victory won,</p> +<p>Lend of your substance; let it not be said</p> + <p class="i6">You left your part undone.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Lend all and gladly. If this bitter strife</p> + <p class="i2">May so by one brief hour be sooner stayed,</p> +<p>Then is your offering, spent to ransom life,</p> + <p class="i6">A thousand times repaid.</p> +</div> +</div> + + <hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +152, February 14, 1917, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 17471-h.htm or 17471-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/4/7/17471/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Lesley Halamek and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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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