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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 152,
+May 30, 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, May 30, 1917
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Owen Seaman
+
+Release Date: January 29, 2006 [EBook #17634]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Lesley Halamek and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+VOL. 152.
+
+
+
+May 30th, 1917.
+
+
+
+
+CHARIVARIA.
+
+
+Mr. WILL THORNE declares that a hotel in Petrograd charged him twelve
+shillings for four small custards. After all, the war spirit of
+Russia, it would seem, is not wholly dead.
+
+ * * *
+
+According to officials of the Food Ministry, "domestic pastry" may
+still be baked. The idea is that this kind of pastry tends to decrease
+the total number of food consumers.
+
+ * * *
+
+Allied control officers have discovered fifteen hundred tons of
+potatoes hidden in Athens. The Salonika expedition is now felt to be
+justified.
+
+ * * *
+
+A certain Kingston resident, when out walking, wears a white band on
+his hat, the with words, "Eat less bread. Do it now." Eyewitnesses
+report that the immediate rush of pedestrians to the tea-rooms to eat
+less bread is most gratifying.
+
+ * * *
+
+"The British loaf," according to Mr. KENNEDY JONES, "is going to beat
+the Germans." If grit can do it, we agree.
+
+ * * *
+
+"Allotments under cultivation in Middlesex," says a weekly paper
+breathlessly, "if place end to end, would reach five miles." Of course
+it is not thought likely that they will be.
+
+ * * *
+
+The father of a lad charged with embezzlement explained that since the
+boy was struck on the head with a cricket ball he could not keep a
+penny novel out of his hands. Speculation is now rife as to the
+nature of the accidents responsible for the passion that some people
+entertain for our more expensive fiction.
+
+ * * *
+
+"It is possible," says a contemporary, "that an invention will one
+day be forthcoming which will make a clean sweep of the submarine."
+Meanwhile we must expect him to go on acting like the dirty sweep he
+is.
+
+ * * *
+
+To meet the paper shortage, Austrian editors have determined to
+economise by reducing the daily reports of victories.
+
+ * * *
+
+_Le Matin_ states that at a Grand Council of War sharp disagreement on
+the conduct of operations arose between the KAISER and HINDENBURG. The
+Marshal, we understand, insisted upon the right to organise his own
+defeats without any assistance from the All-highest-but-one.
+
+ * * *
+
+A London dairyman has been heavily fined for selling water containing
+a large percentage of milk.
+
+ * * *
+
+"To tell the honest truth," said the Hon. JOHN COLLIER, giving
+evidence in the Romney case, "we artists do not think much of the art
+critics." It is this dare-devil attitude which distinguishes your real
+genius.
+
+ * * *
+
+Some surprise was recently caused in Liverpool when the residents
+learned from the _Cologne Gazette_ that their port had been destroyed
+and all the inhabitants removed to another town. They consider that in
+common fairness the _Cologne Gazette_ ought to have given them some
+idea as to where they were living.
+
+ * * *
+
+It is announced that four German War Correspondents have been
+decorated with the Iron Cross of the Second Class. We have always
+maintained that the War Correspondent, like his fighting brother, is
+not immune from the perils of warfare.
+
+ * * *
+
+We are not surprised to learn that the mouth-organ is the favorite
+instrument among the soldiers in a certain Labour unit. The advantage
+of this instrument is that when carried in the pocket it does not
+spoil the figure like a cello.
+
+ * * *
+
+Now that the shortage of starch supply will compel men to wear soft
+collars it is understood that Mr. GEORGE BERNARD SHAW, who already
+wears them soft, proposes to give up collars altogether, so as not to
+be mistaken for an ordinary man.
+
+ * * *
+
+City business houses, it is stated, are adopting the practice of
+closing during the dinner-hour. The old fashioned custom of doing
+business and dining on alternate days had much to recommend it.
+
+ * * *
+
+There was no sugar in England when Crecy and Agincourt were fought,
+as Captain BATHURST told the House of Commons recently. How the War
+Office did without its afternoon tea in those barbarous days it is
+impossible to conjecture.
+
+ * * *
+
+The forthcoming Irish Convention is to be held, it is stated, behind
+locked doors. Why not add a charming element of adventure to the
+affair by entrusting some thoroughly absent-minded person with the
+key?
+
+ * * *
+
+Lord ESHER believes that "our home-coming is not far distant."
+Meanwhile it is cheering to know that quite a number of our fellows
+are getting home on the HINDENBURG line.
+
+ * * *
+
+"Walking canes for ladies with small round heads of ivory" are
+becoming increasingly popular, declared a contemporary. We ourselves
+would hesitate to lash the follies of smart Society in a manner quite
+so frank.
+
+ * * *
+
+It appears that at the Bath War Hospital a hen lays an egg every day
+in a soldier's locker. Only physical difficulties prevent the large
+hearted bird from laying it in his egg-cup.
+
+ * * *
+
+ZAMBI, a Zulu native, has just died at the age of a
+hundred-and-twelve. It seems that war-worry hastened his end.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Illustration: _Proprietress_ (_as customer becomes obstreperous_),
+"NOW THEN, WILLIE, OVER THE TOP!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+=Professional Candour.=
+
+From a dentist's advertisement:--
+
+ "TEETH EXTRACTED WITH THE GREATEST PAINS"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Wanted.--Good cook-general, for very small Naval officer's
+ family."
+
+_Isle of Wight Mercury_.
+
+Intending applicants should exercise caution. A very small Naval
+officer may have a very large family.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "L5 REWARD--Lost from Ruislip (July, 1214), half-persian dark
+ tabby tom cat."
+
+_Harrow Observer_.
+
+And they tell us that a cat has only nine lives!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+=THE PROPHETIC PRESENT.=
+
+ "There is no Hindenburg line."
+
+_Inspired German Press_.
+
+ By nature they abhor the light,
+ But here in this their latest tract
+ Your parrot Press by oversight
+ Has deviated into fact;
+ If not (at present) strictly true,
+ It shows a sound anticipation
+ Born of the fear that's father to
+ The allegation.
+
+ For, though the boasted "line" of which
+ No trace occurs on German maps
+ Retains the semblance of a ditch,
+ It has some nasty yawning gaps;
+ It bulges here, it wobbles there,
+ It crumples up with broken hinges,
+ Keeping no sort of pattern where
+ Our Push impinges.
+
+ When the triumphant word went round
+ How that your god, disguised as man,
+ At victory's height was giving ground
+ According to a well-laid plan,
+ Here he arranged to draw the line
+ (As _Siegfried's_ you were told to hymn it)
+ And plant _Nil ultra_ for a sign--
+ Meaning the limit.
+
+ And now "There's no such thing," they say;
+ Well, that implies prophetic sense;
+ And, if a British prophet may
+ Adopt their graphic present tense,
+ I would remark--and so forestall
+ A truth they'll never dare to trench on:--
+ _There is no HINDENBURG at all,
+ Or none worth mention_.
+
+O.S.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=WAYS AND MEANS.=
+
+I met her at the usual place, and she looked much the same as
+usual--which astonished me rather.
+
+"Now that we're engaged," I began.
+
+"Oh, but we aren't," said Phyllis.
+
+"Are you by any chance a false woman?" I asked. "You remember what you
+said last night?"
+
+"I do, and what I said I stick to. But that was pleasure, and this is
+business."
+
+I looked at her in sudden alarm.
+
+"You're--you're quite sure you aren't a widow, Phyllis?"
+
+"Quite. Why?"
+
+"Talking of business at a time like this. It sounds so--so
+experienced."
+
+"Well, if you _will_ try to settle our whole future lives in one short
+week-end leave, we must at least be practical. Anyway, it's just this.
+I'm not going to be engaged to you until there's some prospect of our
+getting married. I hate long engagements."
+
+"That means not till after the War, then," said I disconsolately.
+
+"I'm afraid it does. But when once the War's over it won't be long
+before you'll be able to keep me in the style to which I'm accustomed,
+will it?"
+
+"Years and years, I should think," said I, looking at her new hat.
+"It'll take at least a pound a day even to start with."
+
+"Three hundred and sixty-five a year," said she thoughtfully.
+
+"And an extra one in Leap Year," I warned her.
+
+"Did I ever tell you," she asked with pride, "that I have money of my
+own?"
+
+"Hurrah!" I shouted. "You darling! How splendid!"
+
+"Jimmy," she said apprehensively, "you aren't marrying me for it, are
+you?"
+
+"How can I tell till I know how much you've got?"
+
+"Well, at a pound a day it would take us to February 19th. You'd have
+to begin from there."
+
+"What an heiress! Promise you'll never cast it in my teeth, dear, that
+I've got less than you. I've got enough War Loan to take us on to the
+23rd and halfway through the 24th; and Exchequer Bonds and things
+which will see us through--er--to about 7.15 P.M. on March 31st. Then
+there's my writing."
+
+"Oh," she said in a surprised tone "do they pay you for that? I
+always thought you gave them so much a line to put things in--like
+advertisements, you know."
+
+"Madam," I answered with dignity, "when you find yourself, from April
+1st until April 20th, depending each year upon my pen for the very
+bread you eat, perchance you will regret those wounding words."
+
+"Well, what else?"
+
+I shook my head.
+
+"That's all," I said. "We don't seem to have got very far, do we?
+Couldn't you--er--trim hats, or take in washing, or something?"
+
+"No--but _you_ could. I mean, we haven't counted in your salary yet,
+have we?"
+
+"What salary?"
+
+"Well, whatever they give you for doing whatever you do. What were you
+getting before the War?"
+
+"Oh, nothing much."
+
+"Yes, but _how_ much?"
+
+"Really," I began stiffly.
+
+"If you're ashamed to say it right out, just tell me how far it would
+take us."
+
+"To about the end of September, I should think."
+
+"Oh, dear! Three more months to go." A frown wrinkled her forehead;
+then her brow cleared. "Why, of course we haven't counted in the
+holidays."
+
+"They aren't usually an asset."
+
+"Yes, they are--if you spend them with your rich relations. I've got
+lots, but I don't think they'd like _you_ much."
+
+"All right," said I shortly; "_keep_ your beastly relations. I shall
+go to Uncle Alfred for October. _He_ loves me."
+
+"That leaves November and December," she mused. "Oh, well, there's
+nothing else for it--we must quarrel."
+
+"What, now?"
+
+"No, stupid. Every October 31st, by letter. Then I'll go home to
+mother, and you'll stay with Uncle Alfred some more. I hope he'll like
+it."
+
+"Y-e-s," I said doubtfully. "That would do it, of course. But we
+shan't see very much of each other that way, shall we? Still, I
+suppose.... Good Heavens!"
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+"Phyllis, we've forgotten all about income-tax. That means about
+another two months to account for."
+
+"My dear, how _awful!_"
+
+There was a pause while we both thought deeply.
+
+"Couldn't you ..." we began together at last, and each waited for the
+other to finish.
+
+"Look here," I remarked, "we're both very good at finding things for
+the other to do. Isn't there anything we could do together--a job for
+'respectable married couple,' you know?"
+
+"Why, of course--caretaking! We'll look after ducal mansions in the
+silly season, when everybody's out of town. Then we'll see simply
+heaps of one another."
+
+"Yes," I agreed. "And then in the evenings, when you've scrubbed the
+steps and the woodwork and polished the brass and dusted the rooms and
+cleaned the grate and cooked the meals and tidied the kitchen, and
+I've inspected the gas-meter and fed the canary, or whatever it is a
+he-care-taker does, we'll dress ourselves up and go and sit in the
+ducal apartments and pretend we're 'quality.'"
+
+"And impress our relations by asking them to dinner there," added
+Phyllis. "I think it's a lovely idea. We don't seem to be going to
+have much money, but we _shall_ see life. I'm beginning to be quite
+glad I listened to you yesterday, after all."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=An Accommodating Creature.=
+
+ "A Respectable woman wants situation as dairymaid, laundress, or
+ fowl."
+
+_Cork Constitution_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+[Illustration: =THE GREAT UNCONTROLLED.=
+
+The Mutton. "I HEAR THEY WANT MORE OF US NOW THE MEATLESS DAYS ARE
+OFF."
+
+The Beef. "DON'T YOU WORRY. THANKS TO THE PROFITEERS, PEOPLE CAN'T
+AFFORD TO EAT US."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE FIRST POTATO-LEAF!]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+=THE WATCH DOGS.=
+
+LXI.
+
+ My Dear CHARLES,--Have I ever, in the course of these SECRET and
+ CONFIDENTIAL despatches, called your lordship's attention to the
+ existence, the very marked existence, of our Hubert, "the little
+ Captain," who, being out of the battle for the moment, relies upon
+ argument for argument's sake to keep up his circulation? It
+ has been said of him that he spends his office time in writing
+ superior letters to his subordinates and insubordinate letters to
+ his superiors; but that, I think, is over harsh. In any case, as
+ he has now run short of grievances, and the authorities of the
+ B.E.F. regard him as a joke and like him best when his little
+ temper is hot, his fights out here have for some time lacked
+ reality. I fancy that he was merely in search of a _casus belli_
+ when, being on leave in the U.K., he conceived the idea of a day's
+ extension and stepped round to the War Office to demand same as of
+ right.
+
+ But the War Office, Charles, is not as other places and War
+ Officers are not like the common sort. Hubert, arriving in his
+ best fighting trim, was at once ejected by the policeman at the
+ door. He underestimated the importance of that official and
+ his office, otherwise he would not have adopted the
+ just-dropping-in-to-have-a-chat-with-a-friend-inside attitude.
+ From the constable's cold response he realised that, in tackling
+ the W.O. single-handed, he was attempting a big thing, whereas the
+ W.O., in tackling him, was not under the same disadvantage. Then
+ he did what was unusual with him; he paused to think before
+ resuming the offensive. What he wanted, he felt, was big guns. The
+ House of Commons caught his eye and reminded him of politicians.
+ He recalled a slight acquaintance with one of the more important
+ of these and went round to call upon him personally. It was not
+ his idea to obtain any such authority as would demolish all
+ opposition at the W.O.; he just hoped to get a personal chit,
+ which would act as a smoke barrage and at least cover his advance
+ right into the middle of the enemy defences.
+
+ So Hubert asked for the politician in person, but only got his
+ secretary. This gentleman, having elicited that Hubert's train for
+ France left at 5 P.M., regretted that the politician would not be
+ visible till 6. This opposition warmed Hubert's blood; he asked
+ for a statement in writing. After some little discussion he got
+ it, since the secretary, for all his caution, could see no harm in
+ an unofficial note, addressed to no one in particular, and stating
+ merely that Hubert wanted to see the politician and the politician
+ was out till 6 P.M.
+
+ The little captain is one of those who state their grievances to
+ themselves, when no other audience is available. During his
+ return journey to the W.O. mental processes of no little heat and
+ significance took place in his busy head, he putting up an
+ overwhelming case to show why his leave ought to be, and must be,
+ extended. The force of this case gave him such a burning sense of
+ justice as to carry him, this time, safely past the policeman.
+
+ Five rows of barbed wire, two of them electrified, would be but a
+ poor substitute for the barriers of the W.O. Before you set foot
+ on the staircase you have to produce a ticket, and it is supposed
+ that the porter, who has the forms to be filled in, forfeits a
+ day's pay every time he parts with one. Hubert, gradually losing
+ confidence, wrote upon the form all he could think of about
+ himself, and handed it to the porter, who received it with
+ reluctance, read it with suspicion, and disappeared with a grunt.
+ What he did with it is not known; probably someone got into
+ communication with the B.E.F. to know if such a person as Hubert
+ existed, and, if so, why? Meanwhile Hubert had good time to
+ realise that no one loved him and that this was cold brutal war at
+ last.
+
+ Bit by bit the porter drifted back and gave Hubert his form, now
+ stamped and become his ticket. The porter having finished with
+ him, he passed on and, after many wanderings, found the door of
+ the room where his sentence would be passed. Bracing himself
+ up and clearing his throat, he prepared to knock and enter.
+ Fortunately, however, his audacious intention was observed by an
+ official and frustrated. He was commanded to write something more
+ about himself in the book provided for that purpose, and to go on
+ waiting. Being now an expert at writing and waiting he did as he
+ was bid, spending the next few hours of his life remodelling his
+ case in less fierce and glowing terms.
+
+ At last the door of the room persuaded itself to open and let out
+ a real red god, who looked upon Hubert, took an instant dislike
+ to him, relieved him of his ticket and went in again. During
+ the ensuing period of suspense the last vestige of Hubert's
+ personality departed from him.
+
+ Again the door opened and another red one, even more godlike,
+ emerged clamouring for Hubert and his blood. Had he still been in
+ possession of his ticket (a necessary passport for egress) Hubert
+ would have fled. There was nothing for it but to confess his
+ identity and to hope for mercy. The god, who clearly had not more
+ than three and a half seconds to spare, demanded an explanation of
+ his presence. Hubert admitted that once, in a moment of impudent
+ folly, he had thought of asking for a day's extension. The god
+ said nothing, but a light smouldered in his eyes which intimated
+ to Hubert that if he did not at once produce some paramount excuse
+ for so monstrous a request the War would be held up and the
+ military machine would be concentrated on punishing Hubert.
+ His tongue clove to the roof of his mouth; even if it had been
+ available it would have helped little, for it is more than mere
+ words that the gods require. His hand searched in his pockets and
+ produced the return half of his leave warrant, a five-franc
+ note, a box of matches, a recently purchased paper flag and the
+ politician's secretary's note. The first and the last were taken,
+ the rest fell to the floor, the door closed once more and again
+ Hubert was alone.
+
+ Hubert doesn't know what he did next; probably, he thinks, he sat
+ down and wept, and it was his tears that induced the gods not to
+ convert his ticket into a death-warrant, but instead to give him
+ the slip, "Leave extended one day for urgent private business."
+ This was clearly one of Hubert's most decisive victories. He had
+ his day's extension solely in order to interview the politician
+ at 6 P.M.; he was to interview the politician solely in order to
+ obtain his day's extension. But Hubert insists morbidly that his
+ was a moral defeat, amounting to utter suppression. He called upon
+ the politician at 6 P.M. to thank him personally. Again he could
+ get no further than the secretary, who, learning that Hubert's
+ train would not depart at all that day, regretted that the
+ politician would, on second thoughts, be out for a week. "Now if
+ I really _had_ triumphed," said Hubert, "I should have got the
+ secretary to put that also in writing, and should have stepped
+ round to the War Office again to demand a further week's extension
+ on the strength of it." This, however, he did not do.
+
+
+ Yours ever, HENRY.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "GOOD 'EVINGS! WHERE YER GOIN'?"
+
+"YE KEN YON THREE HUNS I JUST BROUGHT IN? WEEL, THEY WANT TO PLAY
+WHIST, AN' I'M GOING BACK TO TRY AND PICK UP A FOURRTH."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ "Southport, December 9th.--Miss ---- presented vegetarian
+ literature and a box of vegetarian sausages to a Sale of Work in
+ connection with the United Methodist Church, High Park. The gifts
+ led to much thought and inquiry."--_Vegetarian Messenger_.
+
+In spite of a natural disinclination to look a gift sausage in the
+mouth.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A CALL TO THE COW PONIES.
+
+ They sent us from Coorong and Cooper
+ The pick of the Wallaby Track
+ To serve us as gunner and trooper,
+ To serve us as charger and hack;
+ From Budgeribar to Blanchewater
+ They rifled the runs of the West,
+ That whatever his fate in the slaughter
+ A man might ride home on the best.
+
+ We dealt with the distant Dominion,
+ We bought in the far Argentine;
+ The worth of our buyers' opinion
+ Is proved to the hilt in the line;
+ The Clydes from the edge of the heather,
+ The Shires from the heart of the grass,
+ And the Punches are pulling together
+ The guns where the conquerors pass.
+
+ So come with us, buckskin and sorrel,
+ And come with us, skewbald and bay;
+ Your country's girth-deep in the quarrel,
+ Your honour is roped to the fray;
+ Where flanks of your comrades are foaming
+ 'Neath saddle and trace-chain and band,
+ We look for the kings of Wyoming
+ To speak for the sage-brush and sand.
+
+W.H.O.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+=Commercial Candour.=
+
+From an Indian trade-circular:--
+
+ "All our goods are guaranteed made of the best material and equal
+ to none in the market."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "The approach of the storm was heralded by a magnificent display
+ of, for a time, almost intermittent lightning."--_Pall Mall
+ Gazette_.
+
+Followed, it may be presumed, by well-nigh interrupted peals of
+thunder and nearly occasional downpours of rain.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "One always feels humiliated when one is stumped about a quite
+ common thing.... All you could see a little way iff was that they
+ were very dwarg and very thick, and the peculiar coloul baffled
+ us...."
+
+ _A Country Diary in "Manchester Guardian."_
+
+Stumped we may be by the above, but humiliated--never!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+=PETHERTON'S PUBLICATIONS.=
+
+A glance at a well-known publisher's window, during a recent visit
+to London, provided me with material for a little possible quiet
+amusement, and with this end in view I penned the following:--
+
+DEAR MR. PETHERTON,--When up in town the other day I was surprised and
+delighted to notice in Messrs. Egbert Arnwell's window two works of
+yours, one on Bi-Metallism and the other on the Differential and
+Integral Calculus. Nothing but the prices (really low ones for such
+works) prevented my purchasing a copy of each book at once.
+
+I cannot resist writing to congratulate you on the publication of
+these volumes, which will, I am sure, add to the instruction if not
+to the gaiety of nations. Of course I knew--and have had the most
+complete olfactory proofs--that you were a chemist of at least strong
+views, but had no idea that your range of knowledge was so extensive
+as it apparently is.
+
+ With renewed congratulations,
+ Believe me, yours sincerely,
+ HENRY J. FORDYCE.
+
+By the way, what is a calculus? Could one be obtained in Surbury, or
+would it be necessary to order from the Army and Navy Stores?
+
+This brought forth:--
+
+SIR,--I greatly regret that my latest publications should have caught
+your eye, and look on your congratulations as a studied insult.
+
+I should hardly expect a person of your (as I imagine) limited
+intellect to know anything about the scientific subjects which
+interest me, but I feel sure that you are perfectly aware that the
+calculus is abstract and not concrete.
+
+Had you tried to convey sincere congratulations to me I could have
+borne the infliction with resignation, but I strongly object to such
+flippant impertinences as are contained in your communication.
+
+ Faithfully yours,
+ FREDERICK PETHERTON.
+
+I felt this was a good start, and so put out more bait:--
+
+DEAR PETHERTON (I wrote),--Sorry you couldn't accept my letter in the
+spirit, etc.
+
+I've had such a priceless idea since I wrote to you last, and it is
+this. I propose that we start a Literary Society in Surbury. I'm
+certain the Vicar would join in. Mr. Charteris, of the Manor, too
+would, I feel confident, welcome the idea. Dr. Stevenson, the only
+one to whom I have broached the subject, got keen at once, and the
+Gore-Langleys and others could no doubt be counted on--say a dozen
+altogether, including you and myself. I append a short list of
+suggested contributions, which will give some idea of the range of
+subjects which might be tossed into the arena of debate:--
+
+The Binomial Theorem in its relation to the Body Politic (yourself).
+
+Cows and their sufferings during the milk controversy in the
+newspapers (Charteris. This might be published in small quarto).
+
+The attitude of the Manichean Heresiarch towards the use of Logarithms
+(The Vicar).
+
+The effect of excessive Philately on the cerebral organisms of the
+young (Gore-Langley).
+
+The introduction of the art and practice of Napery among the Dyaks of
+Borneo (Miss Eva Gore-Langley).
+
+With a few additions I think we should have enough mental food to keep
+us going through the summer; and I may add that if you were put up for
+President of the Society I should certainly second the motion.
+
+ Yours ever,
+ HARRY FORDYCE.
+
+I notice that your writing has gone to pieces rather, old man--through
+writer's cramp, I fear. You say what looks like "you are perfectly
+aware that the calcalus is asphalt and not concrete." Of course I do
+know that much about it.
+
+My letter kept the ball rolling all right, for Petherton replied:---
+
+SIR,--Have you no sane moments? If you have any such, I should be glad
+if you would employ the next lucid interval in setting your affairs
+straight and then repairing to the nearest asylum with a request that
+they would protect you against yourself by placing you in a padded
+cell. This done and the key lost, the world, and Surbury in
+particular, would be a happier place.
+
+You cannot seriously suggest that any society for literary discussion
+could be formed here or elsewhere which should include yourself,
+and even so you must know that your being a member would prevent my
+joining it.
+
+Has the call for National Service not reached your ears yet? You
+appear to have plenty of leisure time on your hands which might be
+better employed. Or have you offered yourself and been rejected on the
+grounds of mental deficiency?
+
+ Faithfully yours,
+ FREDERICK PETHERTON.
+
+I didn't feel called upon to make a song about my method of doing my
+bit, which, I am glad to say, has the approval of the authorities;
+but I was anxious to hear Petherton's joints crack once more, so I
+wrote:--
+
+DEAR FREDDY,--Your letters get better and better in style as your
+writing deteriorates. I am very sorry to gather from your last that
+you look coldly on my scheme. I am sure that those to whom I have
+mentioned the idea would decline to entertain it if it lacked your
+active support, so I trust you will reconsider the matter.
+
+I am thinking over your asylum stunt. It would certainly save some
+expense, and if this terrible War continues much longer it will, I
+fear, drive me to such a refuge; though I trust in that event that I
+shall be allowed to choose pleasanter wall hangings than those you
+suggest. I'm rather fond of light chintzy papers, aren't you? They're
+so cheerful.
+
+Hoping to hear from you _re_ our little society at your earliest ("The
+Surbury Literary and Scientific Society" would sound well, and would
+look rather nice on our note-paper--what?)--
+
+ I am, yours as ever,
+ HARRY.
+
+Petherton saw red again and bellowed at me, thus:--
+
+SIR,-- ---- you and your beastly society. I don't know who is the more
+execrable, you or the KAISER.
+
+ Faithfully yours,
+ FREDERIC PETHERTON.
+
+Common decency compelled me to reply, so I wrote:--
+
+MY DEAR OLD BOY.--You don't know how grieved I am to hear that you
+cannot entertain the scheme.
+
+Of course I can read between the lines, and know that your heart is in
+it, and that it is only the many calls on your time which prevent your
+active co-operation with me in the matter. Of course, needless to say,
+your lack of support has killed what looked like being a promising
+scientific bantling (through stress of emotion I nearly wrote
+"bantam," which brings me to the subject of poultry. How are yours? I
+forgot to ask before).
+
+I hope the question of the S.L. & S.S. will now be dropped; it is too
+painful. If you insist on continuing the discussion I shall decline to
+answer the letter, so there!
+
+ Yours,
+ H.
+
+But Petherton refused to be drawn.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+From a Church appeal:--
+
+ "A recent collection revealed that, of 179 coins put in the plate,
+ 176 were coppers, whilst not more than 15 people could have
+ contributed anything above one shilling."
+
+The person who took the twelve silver coins by mistake will, we hope,
+return them next Sunday.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+=THE SHERWOOD FORESTERS.=
+
+ Deep in the greenwood year by year
+ Bold ROBIN HOOD, a knightly ghost,
+ Has eased the purse that bulged the most
+ And stalked the wraiths of Rufford deer;
+
+ And, as the centuries speed away,
+ Has seen his oak and birk-land shrink,
+ Where teeming cities on its brink
+ Crowd in on Sherwood of to-day.
+
+ But still each year the outlaw-king,
+ By Normanton and Perlethorpe spire,
+ Has watched the beeches' emerald fire
+ Flare upward in the leaping spring;
+
+ Each heather-time has found his own
+ Eyrie of rest where Higger Tor
+ Shimmers in purple as before
+ KING COEUR-DE-LION held his throne.
+
+ And Foresters away "out there,"
+ Sons of his sons, have surely seen
+ A figure clad in Lincoln green
+ Glide by them swiftly, thin as air;
+
+ And, yarning in the creepy dark,
+ Have told of arrows, cloth-yard long,
+ Whistling before them clean and strong,
+ Of Huns that got them, pierced and stark;
+
+ How when their line is making good,
+ In charge or trench, as Sherwoods can,
+ Soft-footed, ever in the van,
+ Stalks the bold ghost of ROBIN HOOD.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Mrs. Jones_ (_suspiciously, to Jones, who is kept on
+strict rations_). "SOMEBODY HAS EATEN FIDO'S DINNER."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=THE SECRETS OF HEROISM.=
+
+"Don't talk about heroism," said Sergeant William Bingley, "until you
+know what it is--and isn't.
+
+"There were two men in my platoon over there that I'd match against
+any other two in the British, Allied, or Enemy armies for the biggest
+funks on earth; two boys from the same town, as unlike as cross-bred
+puppies, but cowards to the ankles.
+
+"They were the only two that didn't volunteer for a listening picket
+one night, and I felt so ashamed of them that I decided to mention it.
+
+"'You nickel-plated, glass-lined table-ornament,' I said to Ruggles
+when I found him alone, 'aren't you ashamed to form a rear rank alone
+with Jenks every time you're asked to do anything?'
+
+"I knew they hated each other, and I thought I'd draw him, but he
+hadn't a word for himself.
+
+"'Tell me what you joined for,' I said more persuasively, for he had
+been in the Army over a year. 'You're the only man in the company,
+bar your friend Jenks, that turns white at the pop of a cork out of a
+Worcester sauce bottle.'
+
+"He stroked the bit of hair behind his right ear and let slip a grin
+like the London and Country mail slots at the G.P.O.
+
+"'I'll tell you, Sergeant,' he said. 'I never had much heart for
+soldiering, and I only joined up when I did to spite the girl that
+jilted me. She jilted me for Jenks, and no sooner did she say the word
+to him than she talked him into enlisting too.... That's why I'm no
+good. Every time I remember I'm a soldier I think of her laughing at
+me, and I feel a fool.'
+
+"'Well,' said I, 'she must be proud of you both, for you're the
+weariest, wonkiest pair of wash-outs I ever swore at.'
+
+"I didn't send for Jenks; I could guess his excuse. He had obviously
+about as much spirit for fighting as Ruggles, and he was just hanging
+on and trying not to get hurt before the War stopped.
+
+"We had a few weeks out of the trenches after my chat with Ruggles,
+and one afternoon I came upon them enjoying a hearty, homely,
+ten-round hit, kick, and scramble in a quiet corner near their billet.
+They looked as if they meant it, but they finished up in about ten
+minutes, hugging each other in six inches of mud. Ruggles got up
+first, and while he waited for Jenks he turned on his Little Tich
+smile. It worked; Jenks smiled too, and the rivals went off together
+like brothers.
+
+"I said nothing, and forgot them again--clean forgot them, until,
+a week later, Jenks came to me in Number Seven with a yarn about a
+crater and a sniper, and might he go and perforate him.
+
+"I had noticed the sniper myself, so I sent Jenks to chase a broom and
+picked my own men for this job that mattered. I'd no sooner done it
+than Ruggles marched up and asked to be made one of the party.
+
+"I just stared at him, and his grin stretched half an inch each way.
+
+"'I saw Jenks asking you,' he told me, 'and I won't be behind Jenks.
+Besides, it was me told him of the sniper.'
+
+"'It's a change for you two to be worrying over snipers,' I said.
+
+"'Well, you're not grumbling at that, are you, Sergeant?' said he.
+
+"'I am not,' I said. 'And I hope you'll keep it up until we're
+relieved.'
+
+"'You watch us,' he answered.
+
+"I did. It was Ruggles that put his bayonet into the machine-gunner
+that had knocked out half the company. He took the last two bullets in
+his arm and side; and it was Jenks that put himself between Ruggles'
+head and the revolver that would have made pulp of it if Jenks hadn't
+got the hand that held it. He took the bullet in his cheek.
+
+"I saw them in the dressing-station when the shouting was over.
+Ruggles was laughing at what Jenks's face would look like when it was
+out of bandages. The bullet had taken away about a third of an ear.
+Jenks was cursing because it hurt to laugh back.
+
+"'Never mind,' I said to him with a wink at Ruggles, 'I warrant
+there's some little girl who won't laugh at you when you get back
+home. She has more to be proud of now than your face.'
+
+"'Then you're wrong, Sergeant,' he answered quietly. 'She's changed
+her mind. She's _his_ girl now.'
+
+"I looked at Ruggles. He wouldn't catch my eye, but a blush was
+working round towards his neck.
+
+"'And I've changed my mind too,' said Jenks. 'D'you think I'd have
+taken those risks I took to-day if there was a girl at home worrying
+over every casualty list? A man's a fool to risk breaking a heart to
+try to get a medal.'
+
+"'Ay, that's the way you look at it,' said Ruggles, as red as
+beetroot. 'But I bet the Sergeant's glad she's changed her mind. I
+never knew your equal for a clammy coward, Jim, before she chucked you
+up.'
+
+"Jenks began to look black. 'There were two of us, anyway,' he said.
+
+"'P'r'aps there were,' Ruggles agreed cheerily. 'But what's the good
+of making a show of your soldiering unless there's someone at home
+looking on and caring?'"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: =INTENSIVE CULTURE FOR FLAT-DWELLERS.= SOWING EARLY
+MUSTARD AND CRESS ON WINTER UNDERCLOTHING.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+ "The National War Savings Committee is issuing a two-penny cookery
+ book, giving a host of simple remedies for economical dishes."
+ _Birmingham Daily Mail_.
+
+Some of them do upset the internal economy, no doubt.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "St. Quentin Canal, in spite of the damage reported to have been
+ done to it by the Germans, will probably still be an important
+ military obstacle. It is, for instance, when full of water, over
+ eight feet deep." _Daily News_.
+
+When full of beer it becomes absolutely impassable.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Extract from a regimental notice:--
+
+ "I am glad to inform you that a Special Order ... guarantees
+ your admission to this Regiment on your release from the Postal
+ Service.... If attested and passed into Class A for Service, you
+ should apply to your Recruiting Officer, who will post you and
+ forward you here on an A.F. B. 216."
+
+An appropriate and convenient arrangement.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+[Illustration: =ERIN TAKES A TURN AT HER OWN HARP.=
+
+WITH MR. PUNCH'S SINCERE GOOD WISHES FOR THE SUCCESS OF THE IRISH
+CONVENTION.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Illustration: IN HAPPY DAYS TO COME.
+
+_Non-Politician_ (_in remote country-house, to wife on her midnight
+return from county town_).
+
+"MABEL, YOU'VE BEEN VOTING."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+=ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.=
+
+_Monday, May 21st_.--Mr. MACCALLUM SCOTT complained that a question
+of his relating to the prohibition of "dropped scones"--which Captain
+BATHURST, that encyclopaedia of food-lore, described as falling "under
+the same category as the crumpet"--had been addressed to the Ministry
+of Munitions instead of the Ministry of Food. It was really a venial
+error on the part of the Clerk at the Table, for the modern scone
+distinctly suggests a missile of offence, and is much more like a
+"crump" than a crumpet. If HINDENBURG were acquainted with our London
+tea-shops (_consule_ DEVONPORT) he would never have imagined that his
+famous phrase about "biting upon granite" would have any terrors for
+the British recruit.
+
+When the PRIME MINISTER read from his manuscripts the proposed
+conditions of the Irish Convention--how it must include
+representatives not only of political parties, but of Churches, trade
+unions, commercial and educational interests, and of _Sinn Fein_
+itself; and must be prepared to consider every variety of proposal
+that might be brought before it--an Irish colleague whispered to me,
+"Sure, the Millennium will be over before we get it."
+
+Nothing could have been handsomer than Mr. REDMOND'S welcome to the
+proposal. All he was concerned for, I gathered, was that his Unionist
+opponents should be generously represented. Ulster, in the person of
+Sir JOHN LONSDALE, made no corresponding advance. He would submit
+the proposal to his constituents, but not apparently with letters
+commendatory.
+
+I daresay Mr. WILLIAM O'BRIEN set out with the honest intention of
+blessing the Government plan, of which indeed he claims to be the
+"onlie begetter." But the sound of his own voice--in its higher
+tones painfully provocative--stimulated him to proceed to a dramatic
+indictment of his former colleagues. I felt sorry for the prospective
+Chairman, charged with the task of attempting to reconcile these
+opposites.
+
+Mr. HEALY, cowering beneath the shelter of his ample hat, as Mr.
+O'BRIEN'S arms waved windmill-like above him, must have felt like
+_Sancho Panza_ when the _Don_ was in an extra fitful mood; but he kept
+silence even from good words.
+
+The briefest and most helpful speech of the afternoon came from Sir
+EDWARD CARSON, who, while declaring that he would never desert Ulster,
+nevertheless made it plain that Ulster on this occasion should take
+her place beside the rest of Ireland. Only Mr. GINNELL remained
+obdurate. In his ears the Convention sounds "the funeral dirge of the
+Home Rule Act."
+
+[Illustration: PESSIMIST'S DESIGN FOR COSTUME OF CHAIRMAN OF IRISH
+CONVENTION.]
+
+_Tuesday, May 22_.--If you should happen to see of a Sabbath morning
+a stream of official motor-cars leaving London with freights of the
+brave and the fair you may be sure they are going on some National
+business. Both the War Office and the Admiralty keep log-books, in
+which are faithfully entered--I quote Dr. MACNAMARA--"full particulars
+of each journey, the number and description of passengers carried and
+the amount of petrol consumed." Do not therefore jump to the hasty
+and erroneous conclusion that the gallant fellows and their charming
+companions are "joy-riding;" such a thing is unknown in Government
+circles.
+
+The HOME SECRETARY moved the second reading of the Representation of
+the People Bill with a suavity befitting a CAVE of Harmony; and by
+the clearness of his exposition very nearly enabled the House to
+understand the mysteries of proportional representation, though even
+now I should not like to have to describe off-hand the exact working
+of "the single transferable vote."
+
+The opponents of the Bill were well-advised in selecting Colonel
+SANDERS as their champion. With his jolly round face, bronzed by the
+suns of Palestine, he looks the typical agriculturalist. He may, as
+he says, have forgotten in the trenches all the old tricks of the
+orator's trade, but he has learned some useful new ones, and while
+delighting the House with his sporting metaphors struck some shrewd
+blows at a measure which he regards as unfair and inopportune.
+
+For almost the first time since the War Lord HUGH CECIL was discovered
+in quite his best form. The House rippled with delight at his refusal
+to be forcibly fed with a peptonized concoction, prepared by the
+SPEAKER'S Conference in the belief that the Mother of Parliaments was
+too old and toothless to chew her own victuals. "This Bill is Benger's
+Food, and you, Sir, and your Committee are Bengers."
+
+The SOLICITOR-GENERAL'S solid and solemn arguments in favour of the
+Bill fell a little flat after this sparkling attack. He should have
+said, "The noble Lord reminds me, not for the first time, of GILBERT'S
+'Precocious Infant,' who
+
+ 'Turned up his nose at his excellent pap--
+ "My friends, it's a tap
+ Dat is not worf a rap."
+ (Now this was remarkably excellent pap).'"
+
+_Wednesday, May 23rd_--The Russian officers who adorned the
+Distinguished Strangers' Gallery this afternoon must be a little
+puzzled by the vagaries of British politics. They had been informed,
+no doubt, that the most urgent problem of the day was caused by the
+desire of one of the British Isles to manage its own affairs. Yet the
+first thing they heard at Westminster was the petition of another of
+these Isles--that of Man--begging release from the burden of Home Rule
+and demanding representation in the Imperial Parliament. Perhaps this
+little incident will help our visitors to appreciate why Englishmen
+do not invariably form a just judgment of events in other
+countries--Russia, for instance.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Illustration: _Our Win-the-War Garden Suburb Enthusiast_ (_as the
+storm bursts_). "MADAM! MADAM! WILL YOU KINDLY PUT DOWN YOUR UMBRELLA?
+IT'S KEEPING THE RAIN OFF MY ALLOTMENT."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=SONGS OF FOOD PRODUCTION.=
+
+V.
+
+ _Oh, for grapes a-growing
+ In Ludgate and the Fleet!
+ Cauliflowers blowing
+ Down Regent's Street!
+ Oranges and Lemons
+ Clustered by St. Clemen's,
+ And Sea Kale careering past the kerb on London Wall!
+ And oh, for private Mushroom beds rolling down the Mall!_
+
+ Motor engines, motor engines, do not wear a bonnet!
+ You have artificial heat--grow something on it!
+ Precious artificial heat, costly to instal;
+ Turn it into a hot-bed, growing food for all!
+
+ _Must_ you have a superstructure? Let it be a hot-house
+ Forcing (say) some early peas--the only decent pot-house;
+ Oh, if I could only see in walking down the street
+ No unpatriotic waste of all that lovely heat!
+
+ _Motor lorries for Marrows!
+ Taxis for Nectarines!
+ No more coster-barrows,
+ But lemon-house Limousines!
+ Oh, to see Tomaties
+ Skidding by Frascati's!
+ Grand heads of Celery passing the Carlton Grill,
+ And fine forced Strawberries--forced up Denmark Hill!_
+
+ Hard's the fight with Nature in our uncongenial climate,
+ Cuddling plants and coaxing 'em, and oh, the weary time it
+ Takes to get a slender crop--we toil the Summer through;
+ England, needing quick returns, is looking now to you!
+
+ Food that comes from tropic lands, needing heat upon it,
+ You could grow without a thought, if you'd doff your bonnet;
+ Thousands of you, growing food on your daily trips,
+ Helping to economise the tonnage of our ships.
+
+ _Oh, to count the numbers
+ Of Cabbages on the march,
+ Jostling with Cucumbers
+ Just at the Marble Arch!
+ Oh, for Piccadilly's
+ Capsicums and Chilies!
+ Oh, for Peckham's Peaches (not the sort that's canned),
+ And oh, for ripe Bananas roaring down the Strand!_
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "A reaper and binder was destroyed, also a foster mother incubator
+ with 43 young children."--_Chester Chronicle_.
+
+The paragraph is headed "Fire at a Farm"--a baby-farm, we fear.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+=IN A GOOD CAUSE.=
+
+On Sunday, June 10th, Mr. GEORGE ROBEY is to give a Concert, at 7
+P.M., at the Palladium, in aid of the Metropolitan and City Police
+Orphanage, which is in special need of funds on account of the losses
+sustained at the Front among members of the Police Force.
+
+Mr. GEORGE ROBEY will be assisted by Miss IRENE VANBRUGH, Miss HELEN
+MAR, Mr. JOHN HASSALL, Mr. HARRY DEARTH and others, as well as by
+the Royal Artillery String Band, the Canadian Military Choir and the
+Metropolitan Police Minstrels.
+
+Tickets are on sale at the National Sunday League Offices, 34, Red
+Lion Square, W.C., and applications for boxes will be received
+personally by Mr. ROBEY at the Hippodrome.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=The Domestic Problem--Two Extremes.=
+
+ "WANTED, Housemaid and Kitchenmaid; Paying Guests."
+
+ "SCULLERY or Between Maid required immediately for Derbyshire;
+ wages L218."
+
+ _Morning Post_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "On Wednesday evening a fire broke out in Mr. J. Elkin's scutch
+ mill at Kilmore, near Omagh, which resulted in the complete
+ destruction of the premises. It is surmised in the absence of
+ anything which would indicate the origin of the outbreak that it
+ resulted from a heated journal."--_Belfast News Letter_.
+
+An unusual quantity of inflammatory matter has been observed recently
+in the Irish Press.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Illustration: _Past_. THE ARTIST AND THE VILLAGE MAID.
+
+_Present_. THE VILLAGE MAID AND THE ARTIST.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=HEART-TO-HEART TALKS.=
+
+(_Marshal VON HINDENBURG; a Telephone_.)
+
+_The Telephone_. RR-RR-RR-RR.
+
+_The Marshal_. Curse the infernal telephone! A man doesn't get a
+moment's peace. Tush, what am I talking about? Who wants peace? If we
+were all to be quite candid there might be--
+
+_The Telephone_. Rr-rr.
+
+_The Marshal_. All right, all right, I'm coming. Yes, I'm Marshal VON
+HINDENBURG. Who are you? What? I can't hear a single word. You really
+must speak up. Louder--louder still, you fool. What? Oh, I really
+beg your Majesty's pardon. I assure you it was impossible to hear
+distinctly, but it's all right now. I thank your Majesty, I am in my
+usual good health. Yes. No, not at all. Yes, I have good hope that we
+shall now maintain ourselves for at least two days. Yes, if we are
+forced to retire we must say it is according to plan. No, I don't like
+it either, but what is to be done? Their guns are more numerous and
+heavier than ours, and weight of metal must tell. Will I hold the
+line? Yes, certainly, till your Majesty returns and graciously resumes
+the conversation. Oh, you didn't mean that line? You meant the
+Siegfried line, or the Wotan line, or the Hindenburg line? Yes, I see,
+it was a _Witz_, a play of words. Yes, I am sorry I could not at once
+see what your Majesty was driving at, but now I see it is good. I must
+practise my joking. Ha-ha-ha! Are you there? No, he's gone (_rings
+off_). (_To himself_) He is a queer Emperor who is able to make jokes
+while his soldiers are dying by thousands and thousands. It can't last
+like this--and as for the Hindenburg line, I'm perfectly tired to
+death of the words; and the thing itself doesn't exist.
+
+_The Telephone_. Rr-rr-rr-rr.
+
+_The Marshal_. What, again? This is too much--who are you? Who? WHO?
+General VON KLUCK? Impossible. General VON KLUCK's dead. What--not
+dead? Anyhow, nobody's heard of him for months. If you're really
+General VON KLUCK I'm afraid we must consider you to be dead. The
+EMPEROR won't regard it as very good taste on your part to come to
+life again like this. He's very unforgiving, you know. You don't care?
+But, my dear dead General VON KLUCK, you must care. What is it you say
+you wanted to do? Congratulate me? What on? My splendid defence of the
+Hindenburg line? Now, look here. As one German General to another do
+you mean to tell me you believe in the Hindenburg line? No, of course
+you don't. You thought I believed in it? Was that what you said? Come,
+don't wriggle, though you are a dead man. Yes, that was what you said.
+Well, then understand henceforth that there is no Hindenburg line
+and there never was anything of the sort. Why am I retreating then?
+Because I must. That's the whole secret. Why did _you_ retreat after
+your famous oblique march during the Battle of the Marne? Because you
+had to, of course. There--that's enough. I can't waste any more time.
+What? Oh, yes, you can congratulate me on anything you like except
+that. And now you had better return to the grave of your reputation
+and remain there (_rings off_).
+
+_The Telephone_. Rr-rr-rr-rr.
+
+_The Marshal_. To h-ll with the telephone! Who is it now? What--an
+editor of a newspaper? That's a little bit too thick. What is it
+you want? To thank God for that masterpiece of bold cunning, the
+Hindenburg line? Is that what you want? Well, make haste, for the
+masterpiece doesn't exist. No, I'm not joking. I can't joke. Enough
+(_rings off_).
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Illustration: _Nervous Recruit_ (_on guard for the first time_).
+"HALT, FRIEND! WHO GOES THERE?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=THE HOUSE-MASTER.=
+
+ Four years I spent beneath his rule,
+ For three of which askance I scanned him,
+ And only after leaving school
+ Came thoroughly to understand him;
+ For he was brusque in various ways
+ That jarred upon the modern mother,
+ And scouted as a silly craze
+ The theory of the "elder brother."
+
+ Renowned at Cambridge as an oar
+ And quite distinguished as a wrangler,
+ He felt incomparably more
+ Pride in his exploits as an angler;
+ He held his fishing on the Test
+ Above the riches of the Speyers,
+ And there he lured me, as his guest,
+ Into the ranks of the "dry-flyers."
+
+ He made no fetish of the cane
+ As owning any special virtue,
+ But held the discipline of pain,
+ When rightly earned, would never hurt you;
+ With lapses of the normal brand
+ I think he dealt most mercifully,
+ But chastened with a heavy hand
+ The sneak, the liar and the bully.
+
+ We used to criticise his boots,
+ His simple tastes in food and fiction,
+ His everlasting homespun suits,
+ His leisurely old-fashioned diction;
+ And yet we had the saving _nous_
+ To recognise no worse disaster
+ Could possibly befall the House
+ Than the removal of its Master.
+
+ For though his voice was deep and gruff,
+ And rumbled like a motor-lorry,
+ He showed the true angelic stuff
+ If any one was sick or sorry;
+ So when pneumonia, doubly dread,
+ Of breath had nearly quite bereft me,
+ He watched three nights beside my bed
+ Until the burning fever left me.
+
+ He served three Heads with equal zeal
+ And equal absence of ambition;
+ He knew his power, and did not feel
+ The least desire for recognition;
+ But shrewd observers, who could trace
+ Back to their source results far-reaching,
+ Saw the true Genius of the Place
+ Embodied in his life and teaching.
+
+ The War's deep waters o'er him rolled
+ As he beheld Young England giving
+ Life prodigally, while the old
+ Lived on without the cause for living;
+ And yet he never heaved a sigh
+ Although his heart was inly riven;
+ He only craved one boon--to die
+ In harness, and the boon was given.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=Vicarious Parenthood.=
+
+ "DABRERA.--Yesterday, at 6.55 a.m. 'Shernery,' Bambalapitiya,
+ to Mr. and Mrs. Ossy Dabrera a daughter. Grand parents doing
+ well."--_Ceylon Independent_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Mr. J.H. Minns (Carlisle) charged the brewers of his city with
+ allowing their tenants to be placed under the heel of the Control
+ Board.... It was the cloven hoof of the unseen hand that the trade
+ had to face in Carlisle."--_Derby Daily Express_.
+
+Mr. MINNS must cheer up. The Trade has only to wait for
+
+ "That auspicious day when the velvet glove will be stripped for
+ ever from the cloven hoof of the German Eagle."--_London Opinion_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "The fact that a few girls earn abnormal wages has obscured in the
+ public mind the the Board to accept the gift a Bill is to be
+ age girl working 48 hours a week earned only 18s. or 19s. a
+ week."--_Daily Paper_.
+
+This statement should go far to clear up the obscurity in the public
+mind.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Mr. ---- gave one of his popular lectures on 'Alcohol' and its
+ effects on March the 30th in the Wesleyan school."--_True Blue
+ Magazine_.
+
+What exactly did happen on March 30th in the Wesleyan school?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "WANTED, Smart Workman, aged 80, and exempt from military
+ service, as handy man; must be steady; a job for life for careful
+ man."--_Cambria Daily Leader_.
+
+He must be particularly careful to guard against premature decease.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Illustration: _Waitress_. "WE HAVE A VERY REALISTIC MOCK-POTATO
+SOUP."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=EMILY'S MISSION.=
+
+It was all through Emily that I am to-day the man I am.
+
+We were extraordinarily lucky to get her; there was no doubt about
+that. Her testimonials or character or references or whatever it is
+that they come to you with were just the last word. Even the head of
+the registry-office, a frigid thin-lipped lady of some fifty winters,
+with an unemotional cold-mutton eye, was betrayed, in speaking of
+Emily, into a momentary lapse from the studied English of her normal
+vocabulary.
+
+"Madam," she said to my wife, "I have known many housemaids, but never
+one like this. She is, I assure you, Madam, absolutely IT."
+
+So we engaged her; and ere long I came to hate her with a hatred such
+as I trust I shall never again cherish for any human being.
+
+In almost every respect she proved perfection. She was honest, she
+was quick, she was clean; she loved darning my socks and ironing my
+handkerchiefs; she never sulked, she never smashed, her hair never
+wisped (a thing I loathe in housemaids). In one point only she failed,
+failed more completely than any servant I have ever known. She would
+not make my shaving-water really hot.
+
+Cursed by nature with an iron-filings beard and a delicate tender
+skin, I was a man for whom it was impossible to shave with comfort in
+anything but absolutely boiling water. Yet morning after morning I
+sprang from my bed to find the contents of my jug just a little over
+or under the tepid mark. There was no question of re-heating the
+water on the gas stove, for I never allowed myself more than the very
+minimum of time for dressing, swallowing my breakfast and catching my
+train. It was torture.
+
+I spoke to Emily about it, mildly at first, more forcibly as the weeks
+wore on, passionately at last. She apologised, she sighed, she wrung
+her hands. Once she wept--shed hot scalding tears, tears I could
+gladly have shaved in had they fallen half-an-hour earlier. But it
+made no difference; next morning my water was as chill as ever.
+I could not understand it. Every day my wrath grew blacker, my
+reproaches more vehement.
+
+Finally an hour came when I said to my wife, "One of two things must
+happen. Either that girl goes or I grow a beard."
+
+Mildred shook her head. "We can't possibly part with her. We should
+never get another servant like her."
+
+"Very well," I said.
+
+On the morrow I started for my annual holiday, alone. It was late
+summer. I journeyed into the wilds of Wiltshire. I took two rooms in
+an isolated cottage, and on the first night of my stay, before getting
+into bed, I threw my looking-glass out of the window. Next morning
+I began. Day by day I tramped the surrounding country, avoiding all
+intercourse with humanity, and day by day my beard grew.
+
+I could feel it growing, and the first scrubbiness of it filled me
+with rage. But as time slipped by it became softer and more pliable,
+and ceased to irritate me. Freed, too, from the agony of shaving, I
+soon found myself eating my breakfast in a more equable frame of mind
+than I had enjoyed for years. I began also to notice in my walks all
+sorts of things that had not struck me at first--the lark a-twitter
+in the blue, the good smell of wet earth after rain, the pale gold of
+ripening wheat. And at last, before ever I saw it, very gradually I
+came to love my beard, to love the warm comfort and cosiness of it,
+and to wonder half timidly what it looked like.
+
+When I left, just before my departure for the six-miles-distant
+station, I called for a looking-glass. They brought me a piece of the
+one I had cast away. It was very small, but it served my purpose. I
+gazed and heaved a sigh of rapturous content; a sigh that came from my
+very heart. My beard was short and thick, its colour a deep glorious
+brown, with golden lights here and there where the sunbeams danced in
+some lighter cluster of its curling strands. A beard that a king might
+wear.
+
+I have never shaved again. Every morning now, while untold millions
+of my suffering fellows are groaning beneath their razors, I steal an
+extra fifteen minutes from the day and lie and laugh inside my beard.
+
+"And what of Emily?" you ask.
+
+Almost immediately after my return she left us. She gave no reason.
+She was not unhappy, she said. She wished to make a change, that was
+all. To this day my wife cannot account for her departure. But I know
+why she went. Emily was a patriot with a purpose. A month after she
+parted from us I received a letter from her:--
+
+"Dear Sir,--May I ask you to take into consideration the fact that
+by having ceased to shave you will in future be effecting a slight
+economy in your daily expenditure? Might I also suggest to you
+that during the remainder of the War you should make a voluntary
+contribution to the national exchequer of every shilling saved under
+this head? The total sum will not be large, but everything counts.
+Yours is, if I may be allowed to say so, the finest beard I have been
+instrumental in producing during my two and a half years' experience
+in domestic service. I am now hard at work on my sixth case, which is
+approaching its crisis.
+
+Apologising for any temporary inconvenience I may have caused you, I
+am,
+
+Yours faithfully, EMILY JOHNSON,
+
+ _Foundress and President of the
+ Housemaids' Society for the
+ Promotion of Patriotic Beards._"
+
+I never showed the letter to my wife, but I have acted on Emily's
+suggestion. I often think of her still, her whole soul afire with her
+patriotic mission, flitting, the very flower of housemaids, from home
+to home, lingering but a little while in each, in each content for
+that little while to be loathed and stormed at by an exasperated
+shaver, whom she transforms into a happy bearded contributor to her
+fund.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+=Another Impending Apology.=
+
+ "This terrible fire roused hundreds of people from their beds,
+ and a great crowd gathered in the adjoining streets; but
+ Sub-divisional Inspector Stock and Inspector Ping were on the spot
+ within a few months after receiving the call."--_Westminster and
+ Pimlico News_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+[Illustration: _Cowman_ (_to new recruit, Women's Land Army_). "YOU
+GET BEHIND THAT THERE WATER-BUTT. MEBBE COWS WON'T COME IN IF THEY SEE
+YOU IN THAT THERE RIG."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=THE FIFTEEN TRIDGES.=
+
+Once upon a time there was a flourishing covey of fifteen: Pa Tridge,
+Ma Tridge, and thirteen little Tridges, all brown and speckled and
+very chirpy. They had been born in a hollow under some big leaves
+beside a hedge, and they now moved about the earth, pushing their way
+through the grass, all keeping close together when they could, and
+setting up no end of a piping when they couldn't and thought they were
+lost.
+
+It was a large family from our point of view, and larger perhaps than
+a prudent French partridge would approve, but the world is wide, and
+there are no butcher's or baker's or tailor's or dress-maker's bills
+to pay for little birds. All that a Pa and Ma Tridge have to do after
+fledging is complete is to look out for cats and hawks and foxes, to
+beware of the feet of clumsy cattle, and to administer correction and
+advice. Above all there are no school bills, made so doubly ridiculous
+among ourselves by German measles and other epidemics during which
+no learning is imparted, but for which, educationalists being a wily
+crew, no rebate is offered.
+
+There being so little to be done for their young, it is no wonder, in
+a didactic and over-articulate world, that parent Tridges take almost
+too kindly to sententiousness; and young Tridges, being so numerous as
+to constitute a public meeting in themselves, are specially liable to
+admonishment.
+
+It was therefore that, strolling aimlessly amid the herbage or the
+young wheat with their audience all about them, Pa and Ma Tridge got
+into a habit of counsel which threatened to become so chronic that
+there was a danger of its dulling their sensibility to the approach of
+September the first.
+
+"Never," Pa Tridge would say, "criticise anyone or anything on
+hearsay. See for yourself and then make up your own mind; but don't
+hurry to put it into words."
+
+"Tell the truth as often as possible," Pa Tridge would say. "It is
+not only better citizenship to do so, but it makes things easier for
+yourself in the long run."
+
+"Always bear in mind," Ma Tridge would say, "that after one has
+married one's cook she ceases to cook."
+
+"Never tell anyone," Pa Tridge would say, "who it was you saw in the
+spinney with Mr. Jay or Mrs. Woodpecker."
+
+"Indeed," he would add, "you might make a note that the world would
+not come to a miserable end if everyone was born dumb"--but he was
+very glad not to be dumb himself.
+
+"Even though you should get on intimate terms with a pheasant," Ma
+Tridge would say, "don't brag about it."
+
+"Forgive, but don't forget," Pa Tridge would say.
+
+"Remember," Pa Tridge would say, "that, though it may be wiser to say
+No, most of the fun and all the adventure of the world have come from
+saying Yes."
+
+"Bear in mind," Ma Tridge would say--but that is more than enough of
+the tiresome old bores.
+
+And after each piece of advice the little Tridges would all say,
+"Right-O!"
+
+And then one night--these being English Tridges in an English early
+summer--a terrible frost set in which lasted long enough to kill the
+whole covey, partly by cold and partly by starvation, so that all the
+good counsels were wasted.
+
+But on the chance that one or two of them may be applicable to human
+life I have jotted them down here. One never knows which is grain and
+which chaff until afterwards.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+=OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.=
+
+(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks_.)
+
+We have had many studies of the War, in various aspects, from our
+own army. Now in _My .75_ (HEINEMANN) there comes a record of the
+impressions of a French gunner during the first year of fighting. It
+is a book of which I should find it difficult to speak too highly.
+PAUL LINTIER, the writer, had, it is clear, a gift for recording
+things seen with quite unusual sharpness of effect. His word-pictures
+of the mobilisation, the departure for the Front, and the fighting
+from the Marne to the Aisne (where he was wounded and sent home) carry
+one along with a suspense and interest and quite personal emotion that
+are a tribute to their artistry. His death (the short preface tells us
+that, having returned to the Front, he was killed in action in March,
+1916) has certainly robbed France of one who should have made a
+notable figure in her literature. The style, very distinctive, shows
+poetic feeling and a rare and beautiful tenderness of thought, mingled
+with an acceptance of the brutality of life and war that is seen in
+the vivid descriptions of incidents that our own gentler writers would
+have left untold. The horror of some of these passages makes the book
+(I should warn you) not one for shaken nerves. But there can be no
+question of its very unusual interest, nor of the skill with which its
+translator, who should surely be acknowledged upon the title-page, has
+preserved the vitality and appeal of the original.
+
+
+[Illustration: _Tommy_ (_who has made a find in a German dug-out_).
+"_NOW_, ALBERT, AREN'T YOU GLAD YOU CAME? WHY, THESE CIGARS IN LONDON
+WOULD COST YOU CLOSE ON A TANNER APIECE."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The author of _Helen of Four Gates_ (JENKINS) has chosen to hide her
+identity and call herself simply "An Ex-Mill Girl." I am sufficiently
+sorry for this to hope that, if the story meets with the success that
+I should certainly predict for it, a lady of such unusual gifts may
+allow us to know her name. Of these gifts I have no doubt whatever. As
+a tale _Helen of Four Gates_ is crude, unnatural, melodramatic; but
+the power (brutality, if you prefer) of its telling takes away the
+critical breath. Whether in real life anyone could have nursed a
+lifelong hatred as old _Mason_ did (personally I cherish the belief
+that hatred is too evanescent an emotion for a life-tenancy of the
+human mind; but I may be wrong); whether he would have bribed a casual
+tramp to marry and torment the reputed daughter who was the object of
+his loathing, or whether _Day_ and _Helen_ herself would actually so
+have played into his hands, are all rather questionable problems.
+Far more real, human and moving is the wild passion of _Helen_ for
+_Martin_, whom (again questionably as to truth) her enemies frighten
+away from her. A grim story, you begin to observe, but one altogether
+worth reading. To compare things small (as yet) with great, I might
+call it a lineal descendant of _Wuthering Heights_, both in setting
+and treatment. There is indeed more than a hint of the BRONTE touch
+about the Ex-Mill Girl. For that and other things I send her (whoever
+she is) my felicitations and good wishes.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I wonder if Mr. (or Mrs. or Miss) E.K. WEEKES would understand me if I
+put my verdict upon _The Massareen Affair_ (ARNOLD) into the form of
+a suggestion that in future its author would be well advised to keep
+quiet. Not with any meaning that he or she should desist from the
+pursuit of fiction; on the contrary, there are aspects of _The
+Massareen Affair_ that are more than promising--vigorous and
+unconventional characters, a gift of lively talk, and so on. But all
+this only operates so long as the tale remains in the calm waters of
+the ordinary; later, when it puts forth upon the sea of melodrama, I
+am sorry to record that this promising vessel comes as near shipwreck
+as makes no difference. To drop metaphor, the group of persons
+surrounding the unhappily-wedded _Anthony Massareen_--_Claudia_, who
+attempts to rescue him and his two boys, the boys themselves, and the
+clerical family whose fortunes are affected by their proximity to
+the _Massareens_--all these are well and credibly drawn. But when
+we arrive at the fanatic wife of _Anthony_, in her Welsh castle,
+surrounded by rocks and blow-holes, and finally to that last great
+scene, where (if I followed events accurately) she trusses her
+ex-husband like a fowl, and trundles him in a wheel-barrow to the pyre
+of sacrifice, not the best will in the world could keep me convinced
+or even decorously thrilled. So I will content myself with repeating
+my advice to a clever writer in future to ride imagination on the
+curb, and leave you to endorse this or not as taste suggests.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I am seriously thinking of chaining _Grand Fleet Days_ (HODDER AND
+STOUGHTON) to my bookcase, for it is written by the author of _In
+the Northern Mists_, a book which has destroyed the morality of my
+friends. Be assured that I am not formulating any grave charge against
+the anonymous Chaplain of the Fleet who has provided us with these
+two delightful volumes; I merely wish to say that nothing can prevent
+people from purloining the first, and that drastic measures will have
+to be taken if I am to retain the second. In these dialogues and
+sketches I do not find quite so much spontaneity as in the first
+volume; once or twice it is even possible to imagine that the author,
+after taking pen in hand, was a little perplexed to find a subject to
+write about. But that is the beginning and the end of my complaint.
+Once again we have a broad-minded humour and the revelation of a most
+attractive personality. Above all we see our Grand Fleet as it is;
+and, if the grumblers would only read and soundly digest what our
+Chaplain has to say their question would be, "What is our Navy _not_
+doing?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "The sight was wonderful. From the grand lodge entrance to the
+ lake-side quite 3,000 blue-breeched khaki-coated men and nurses
+ lined one side of the long drive."--_Manchester Evening News_.
+
+It must indeed have been a wonderful sight. Nevertheless we hope that
+nurses generally will stick to their traditional uniform.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+152, May 30, 1917, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON ***
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