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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: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** 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 Crécy 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.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "£5 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 encyclopædia 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 £218."
+
+    _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 BRONTË 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 ***
+
+***** This file should be named 17634-8.txt or 17634-8.zip *****
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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: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** 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
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<h1>PUNCH,<br />OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+<h2>Vol. 152.</h2>
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>May 30th, 1917.</h2>
+<hr class="full" />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page345" id="page345"></a>[pg 345]</span>
+<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2>
+<p>
+Mr. <span class="sc">Will Thorne</span> 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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Allied control officers have discovered
+fifteen hundred tons of potatoes hidden
+in Athens. The Salonika expedition is
+now felt to be justified.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+"The British loaf," according
+to Mr. <span class="sc">Kennedy Jones</span>,
+"is going to beat the Germans."
+If grit can do it,
+we agree.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+To meet the paper shortage, Austrian
+editors have determined to economise by
+reducing the daily reports of victories.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+<i>Le Matin</i> states that at a Grand
+Council of War sharp disagreement on
+the conduct of operations arose between
+the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> and <span class="sc">Hindenburg</span>. The
+Marshal, we understand, insisted upon
+the right to organise his own defeats
+without any assistance from the
+All-highest-but-one.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+A London dairyman has been heavily
+fined for selling water containing a large
+percentage of milk.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+"To tell the honest truth," said
+the Hon. <span class="sc">John Collier</span>, 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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Some surprise was recently caused
+in Liverpool when the residents learned
+from the <i>Cologne Gazette</i> that their
+port had been destroyed and all the
+inhabitants removed to another town.
+They consider that in common fairness
+the <i>Cologne Gazette</i> ought to have given
+them some idea as to where they were
+living.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Now that the shortage of starch
+supply will compel men to wear
+soft collars it is understood that Mr.
+<span class="sc">George Bernard Shaw</span>, who already
+wears them soft, proposes to give up
+collars altogether, so as not to be mistaken
+for an ordinary man.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+There was no sugar in England when
+Crécy and Agincourt were fought, as
+Captain <span class="sc">Bathurst</span> told the House of
+Commons recently. How the War
+Office did without its afternoon tea in
+those barbarous days it is impossible
+to conjecture.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+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?</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Lord <span class="sc">Esher</span> 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 <span class="sc">Hindenburg</span> line.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Zambi</span>, a Zulu native, has just died
+at the age of a hundred-and-twelve. It
+seems that war-worry hastened his end.</p>
+
+  <hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/345.png"><img src="images/345-600.png" width="600" height="418" alt="Now then, Willie, over the top!" /></a>
+<p><i>Proprietress</i> (<i>as customer becomes obstreperous</i>),
+"<span class="sc">Now then, Willie, over the top</span>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+  <hr />
+
+
+<h4>Professional Candour.</h4>
+<p>
+From a dentist's advertisement:&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote><h5>
+"TEETH EXTRACTED WITH THE GREATEST PAINS"</h5></blockquote>
+
+  <hr />
+<blockquote><p>
+"Wanted.&mdash;Good cook-general, for very
+small Naval officer's family."</p>
+<p class="author">
+<i>Isle of Wight Mercury</i>.</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+Intending applicants should exercise
+caution. A very small Naval officer
+may have a very large family.</p>
+
+  <hr />
+<blockquote><p>
+"£5 <span class="sc">Reward</span>&mdash;Lost from Ruislip (July,
+1214), half-persian dark tabby tom cat."</p>
+<p class="author">
+<i>Harrow Observer</i>.</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+And they tell us that a cat has only
+nine lives!</p>
+
+  <hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page346" id="page346"></a>[pg 346]</span>
+
+
+<h2>THE PROPHETIC PRESENT.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i16">"There is no Hindenburg line."</p>
+<p class="i32"><i>Inspired German Press</i>.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>By nature they abhor the light,</p>
+    <p class="i2">But here in this their latest tract</p>
+  <p>Your parrot Press by oversight</p>
+    <p class="i2">Has deviated into fact;</p>
+  <p>If not (at present) strictly true,</p>
+    <p class="i2">It shows a sound anticipation</p>
+  <p>Born of the fear that's father to</p>
+           <p class="i8">The allegation.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>For, though the boasted "line" of which</p>
+    <p class="i2">No trace occurs on German maps</p>
+  <p>Retains the semblance of a ditch,</p>
+    <p class="i2">It has some nasty yawning gaps;</p>
+  <p>It bulges here, it wobbles there,</p>
+    <p class="i2">It crumples up with broken hinges,</p>
+  <p>Keeping no sort of pattern where</p>
+           <p class="i8">Our Push impinges.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>When the triumphant word went round</p>
+    <p class="i2">How that your god, disguised as man,</p>
+  <p>At victory's height was giving ground</p>
+    <p class="i2">According to a well-laid plan,</p>
+  <p>Here he arranged to draw the line</p>
+    <p class="i2">(As <i>Siegfried's</i> you were told to hymn it)</p>
+  <p>And plant <i>Nil ultra</i> for a sign&mdash;</p>
+          <p class="i8">Meaning the limit.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>And  now "There's  no  such thing," they say;</p>
+    <p class="i2">Well, that implies prophetic sense;</p>
+  <p>And, if a British prophet may</p>
+    <p class="i2">Adopt their graphic present tense,</p>
+  <p>I would remark&mdash;and so forestall</p>
+    <p class="i2">A truth they'll never dare to trench on:&mdash;</p>
+  <p><i>There is no <span class="sc">Hindenburg</span> at all,</i></p>
+          <p class="i8"><i>Or none worth mention</i>.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i32">
+O.S.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<h2>WAYS AND MEANS.</h2>
+<p>
+I met her at the usual place, and
+she looked much the same as usual&mdash;which
+astonished me rather.</p>
+<p>
+"Now that we're engaged," I began.</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, but we aren't," said Phyllis.</p>
+<p>
+"Are you by any chance a false
+woman?" I asked. "You remember
+what you said last night?"</p>
+<p>
+"I do, and what I said I stick to.
+But that was pleasure, and this is
+business."</p>
+<p>
+I looked at her in sudden alarm.</p>
+<p>
+"You're&mdash;you're quite sure you
+aren't a widow, Phyllis?"</p>
+<p>
+"Quite. Why?"</p>
+<p>
+"Talking of business at a time like
+this. It sounds so&mdash;so experienced."</p>
+<p>
+"Well, if you <i>will</i> 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."</p>
+<p>
+"That means not till after the War,
+then," said I disconsolately.</p>
+<p>
+"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?"</p>
+<p>
+"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."</p>
+<p>
+"Three hundred and sixty-five a
+year," said she thoughtfully.</p>
+<p>
+"And an extra one in Leap Year,"
+I warned her.</p>
+<p>
+"Did I ever tell you," she asked with
+pride, "that I have money of my
+own?"</p>
+<p>
+"Hurrah!" I shouted. "You darling!
+How splendid!"</p>
+<p>
+"Jimmy," she said apprehensively,
+"you aren't marrying me for it, are
+you?"</p>
+<p>
+"How can I tell till I know how
+much you've got?"</p>
+<p>
+"Well, at a pound a day it would
+take us to February 19th. You'd have
+to begin from there."</p>
+<p>
+"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&mdash;er&mdash;to about 7.15
+P.M. on March 31st. Then there's my
+writing."</p>
+<p>
+"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&mdash;like advertisements,
+you know."</p>
+<p>
+"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."</p>
+<p>
+"Well, what else?"</p>
+<p>
+I shook my head.</p>
+<p>
+"That's all," I said. "We don't seem
+to have got very far, do we? Couldn't
+you&mdash;er&mdash;trim hats, or take in washing,
+or something?"</p>
+<p>
+"No&mdash;but <i>you</i> could. I mean, we
+haven't counted in your salary yet,
+have we?"</p>
+<p>
+"What salary?"</p>
+<p>
+"Well, whatever they give you for
+doing whatever you do. What were
+you getting before the War?"</p>
+<p>
+"Oh, nothing much."</p>
+<p>
+"Yes, but <i>how</i> much?"</p>
+<p>
+"Really," I began stiffly.</p>
+<p>
+"If you're ashamed to say it right out,
+just tell me how far it would take us."</p>
+<p>
+"To about the end of September, I
+should think."</p>
+<p>
+"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."</p>
+<p>
+"They aren't usually an asset."</p>
+<p>
+"Yes, they are&mdash;if you spend them
+with your rich relations. I've got lots,
+but I don't think they'd like <i>you</i>
+much."</p>
+<p>
+"All right," said I shortly; "<i>keep</i>
+your beastly relations. I shall go to
+Uncle Alfred for October. <i>He</i> loves
+me."</p>
+<p>
+"That leaves November and December,"
+she mused. "Oh, well, there's
+nothing else for it&mdash;we must quarrel."</p>
+<p>
+"What, now?"</p>
+<p>
+"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."</p>
+<p>
+"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!"</p>
+<p>
+"What's the matter?"</p>
+<p>
+"Phyllis, we've forgotten all about
+income-tax. That means about another
+two months to account for."</p>
+<p>
+"My dear, how <i>awful!</i>"</p>
+<p>
+There was a pause while we both
+thought deeply.</p>
+<p>
+"Couldn't you ... " we began together
+at last, and each waited for the
+other to finish.</p>
+<p>
+"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&mdash;a job for 'respectable
+married couple,' you know?"</p>
+<p>
+"Why, of course&mdash;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."</p>
+<p>
+"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.'"</p>
+<p>
+"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 <i>shall</i> see life. I'm beginning
+to be quite glad I listened to you yesterday,
+after all."</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<h4>An Accommodating Creature.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"A Respectable woman wants situation as
+dairymaid, laundress, or fowl."
+</p></blockquote>
+<p class="author">
+<i>Cork Constitution</i>.</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page347" id="page347"></a>[pg 347]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;">
+<a href="images/347.png"><img src="images/347-368.png" width="368" height="450" alt="THE  GREAT  UNCONTROLLED." /></a>
+
+<h4>THE  GREAT  UNCONTROLLED.</h4>
+
+<p>The Mutton. "I HEAR THEY WANT MORE OF US NOW THE MEATLESS DAYS ARE OFF."</p>
+
+<p>The Beef. "DON'T YOU WORRY. THANKS TO THE PROFITEERS, PEOPLE CAN'T
+AFFORD TO EAT US."</p></div>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page348" id="page348"></a>[pg 348]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 590px;">
+<a href="images/348.png"><img src="images/348-588.png" width="588" height="450" alt="The first potato-leaf!" /></a>
+
+<h4><span class="sc">THE FIRST POTATO-LEAF</span>!</h4></div>
+
+   <hr />
+
+
+<h2>THE   WATCH   DOGS.</h2>
+
+<h4>LXI.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+My Dear <span class="sc">Charles</span>,&mdash;Have I ever,
+in the course of these <span class="sc">Secret</span> and
+<span class="sc">Confidential</span> 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 <i>casus
+belli</i> 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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page349" id="page349"></a>[pg 349]</span>
+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 <i>had</i> 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.</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+Yours ever, <span class="sc">Henry</span>.</p></blockquote>
+
+   <hr />
+
+ <div class="figcenter" style="width: 585px;">
+<a href="images/349.png"><img src="images/349-585.png" width="585" height="450" alt="...They want to play whist, an' I'm going back to try and pick up a fourrth." /></a>
+
+<p>"<span class="sc">Good 'Evings! Where yer goin</span>'?"</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="sc">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</span>."</p></div>
+
+   <hr />
+
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"Southport, December 9th.&mdash;Miss &mdash;&mdash; 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."&mdash;<i>Vegetarian Messenger</i>.</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+In spite of a natural disinclination to
+look a gift sausage in the mouth.</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+ <h2>A CALL TO THE COW PONIES.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>They sent us from Coorong and Cooper</p>
+    <p class="i2">The pick of the Wallaby Track</p>
+  <p>To serve us as gunner and trooper,</p>
+    <p class="i2">To serve us as charger and hack;</p>
+  <p>From Budgeribar to Blanchewater</p>
+    <p class="i2">They rifled the runs of the West,</p>
+  <p>That whatever his fate in the slaughter</p>
+    <p class="i2">A man might ride home on the best.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>We dealt with the distant Dominion,</p>
+    <p class="i2">We bought in the far Argentine;</p>
+  <p>The worth of our buyers' opinion</p>
+    <p class="i2">Is proved to the hilt in the line;</p>
+  <p>The Clydes from the edge of the heather,</p>
+    <p class="i2">The Shires from the heart of the grass,</p>
+  <p>And the Punches are pulling together</p>
+    <p class="i2">The guns where the conquerors pass.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>So come with us, buckskin and sorrel,</p>
+    <p class="i2">And come with us, skewbald and bay;</p>
+  <p>Your country's girth-deep in the quarrel,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Your honour is roped to the fray;</p>
+  <p>Where flanks of your comrades are foaming</p>
+    <p class="i2">'Neath saddle and trace-chain and band,</p>
+  <p>We look for the kings of Wyoming</p>
+   <p class="i2">To speak for the sage-brush and sand.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i32">
+W.H.O.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+   <hr />
+
+
+<h4>Commercial Candour.</h4>
+
+<p>From an Indian trade-circular:&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"All our goods are guaranteed made of the
+best material and equal to none in the market."
+</p></blockquote>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"The approach of the storm was heralded by
+a magnificent display of, for a time, almost
+intermittent lightning."&mdash;<i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+Followed, it may be presumed, by well-nigh
+interrupted peals of thunder and
+nearly occasional downpours of rain.</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"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...."</p>
+<p class="author">
+<i>A Country Diary in "Manchester Guardian."</i>
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+Stumped we may be by the above, but
+humiliated&mdash;never!</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page350" id="page350"></a>[pg 350]</span>
+
+<h2>PETHERTON'S PUBLICATIONS.</h2>
+<p>
+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:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Dear Mr. Petherton</span>,&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+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&mdash;and have
+had the most complete olfactory proofs&mdash;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.</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+With renewed congratulations,<br />
+Believe me, yours sincerely,<br />
+<span class="sc">Henry J. Fordyce.</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+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?</p>
+<p>
+This brought forth:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Sir</span>,&mdash;I greatly regret that my latest
+publications should have caught your
+eye, and look on your congratulations
+as a studied insult.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+Faithfully yours,<br />
+<span class="sc">Frederick Petherton.</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+I felt this was a good start, and so
+put out more bait:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Dear Petherton</span> (I wrote),&mdash;Sorry
+you couldn't accept my letter in the
+spirit, etc.</p>
+<p>
+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&mdash;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:&mdash;</p>
+<ul><li>
+<span class="outdent">The Binomial Theorem in its</span>
+relation to the Body Politic
+(yourself).</li>
+<li>
+<span class="outdent">Cows and their sufferings during</span>
+the milk controversy in the newspapers
+(Charteris. This might
+be published in small quarto).</li>
+<li>
+<span class="outdent">The  attitude  of   the  Manichean</span>
+Heresiarch towards the use of
+Logarithms (The Vicar).</li>
+<li>
+<span class="outdent">The effect of excessive Philately on</span>
+the  cerebral  organisms of  the
+young (Gore-Langley).</li>
+<li>
+<span class="outdent">The  introduction of  the art and</span>
+practice  of Napery among the
+Dyaks  of   Borneo   (Miss   Eva
+Gore-Langley).</li>
+</ul>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+Yours ever,<br />
+<span class="sc">Harry Fordyce</span>.
+</p>
+<p>
+I notice that your writing has gone
+to pieces rather, old man&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+My letter kept the ball rolling all
+right, for Petherton replied:&mdash;-</p>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Sir</span>,&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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?</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+Faithfully yours,<br />
+<span class="sc">Frederick Petherton</span>.
+</p>
+<p>
+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:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Dear Freddy</span>,&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+Hoping to hear from you <i>re</i> our little
+society at your earliest ("The Surbury
+Literary and Scientific Society" would
+sound well, and would look rather nice
+on our note-paper&mdash;what?)&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+I am, yours as ever, <br />
+<span class="sc">Harry</span>.</p>
+
+<p>
+Petherton saw red again and bellowed
+at me, thus:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Sir</span>,&mdash; &mdash;&mdash;  you and your beastly
+society.  I don't know who is the more
+execrable, you or the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>.</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+Faithfully yours,<br />
+<span class="sc">Frederic Petherton</span>.
+</p>
+<p>
+Common decency compelled me to
+reply, so I wrote:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">My Dear Old Boy</span>.&mdash;You don't know
+how grieved I am to hear that you
+cannot entertain the scheme.</p>
+<p>
+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).</p>
+<p>
+I hope the question of the S.L. &amp; 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!</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+Yours,<br />
+H.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Petherton refused to be drawn.</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<h4>From a Church appeal:&mdash;</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"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."
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+The person who took the twelve silver
+coins by mistake will, we hope, return
+them next Sunday.</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page351" id="page351"></a>[pg 351]</span>
+
+<h2>THE SHERWOOD FORESTERS.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>Deep in the greenwood year by year</p>
+    <p class="i2">Bold <span class="sc">Robin Hood</span>, a knightly ghost,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Has eased the purse that bulged the most</p>
+  <p>And stalked the wraiths of Rufford deer;</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>And, as the centuries speed away,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Has seen his oak and birk-land shrink,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Where teeming cities on its brink</p>
+  <p>Crowd in on Sherwood of to-day.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>But still each year the outlaw-king,</p>
+    <p class="i2">By Normanton and Perlethorpe spire,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Has watched the beeches' emerald fire</p>
+  <p>Flare upward in the leaping spring;</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>Each heather-time has found his own</p>
+    <p class="i2">Eyrie of rest where Higger Tor</p>
+    <p class="i2">Shimmers in purple as before</p>
+ <p><span class="sc">King C&oelig;ur-de-Lion</span> held his throne.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>And Foresters away "out there,"</p>
+    <p class="i2">Sons of his sons, have surely seen</p>
+    <p class="i2">A figure clad in Lincoln green</p>
+  <p>Glide by them swiftly, thin as air;</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>And, yarning in the creepy dark,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Have told of arrows, cloth-yard long,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Whistling before them clean and strong,</p>
+  <p>Of Huns that got them, pierced and stark;</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>How when their line is making good,</p>
+    <p class="i2">In charge or trench, as Sherwoods can,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Soft-footed, ever in the van,</p>
+  <p>Stalks the bold ghost of <span class="sc">Robin Hood</span>.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+      <hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 345px;">
+<a href="images/351.png"><img src="images/351-342.png" width="342" height="450" alt="Somebody has eaten Fido's dinner" /></a>
+<p><i>Mrs. Jones</i> (<i>suspiciously, to Jones, who is kept on strict rations</i>). "<span class="sc">Somebody has eaten
+Fido's dinner</span>."</p>
+</div><br />
+      <hr /><br />
+
+<h3>THE SECRETS OF HEROISM.</h3>
+<p>
+"Don't talk about heroism," said
+Sergeant William Bingley, "until you
+know what it is&mdash;and isn't.</p>
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+<p>
+"'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?'</p>
+<p>
+"I knew they hated each other, and
+I thought I'd draw him, but he hadn't
+a word for himself.</p>
+<p>
+"'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.'</p>
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+<p>
+"'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.'</p>
+<p>
+"'Well,' said I, 'she must be proud
+of you both, for you're the weariest,
+wonkiest pair of wash-outs I ever swore
+at.'</p>
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+<p>
+"I said nothing, and forgot them
+again&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="page352" id="page352"></a>[pg 352]</span>
+Ruggles marched up and asked to be
+made one of the party.</p>
+<p>
+"I just stared at him, and his grin
+stretched half an inch each way.</p>
+<p>
+"'I saw Jenks asking you,' he told
+me, 'and I won't be behind Jenks.
+Besides, it was me told him of the
+sniper.'</p>
+<p>
+"'It's a change for you two to be
+worrying over snipers,' I said.</p>
+<p>
+"'Well, you're not grumbling at
+that, are you, Sergeant?' said he.</p>
+<p>
+"'I am not,' I said. 'And I hope
+you'll keep it up until we're relieved.'</p>
+<p>
+"'You watch us,' he answered.</p>
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+<p>
+"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.</p>
+<p>
+"'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.'</p>
+<p>
+"'Then you're wrong, Sergeant,' he
+answered quietly. 'She's changed her
+mind. She's <i>his</i> girl now.'</p>
+<p>
+"I looked at Ruggles. He wouldn't
+catch my eye, but a blush was working
+round towards his neck.</p>
+<p>
+"'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.'</p>
+<p>
+"'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.'</p>
+<p>
+"Jenks began to look black. 'There
+were two of us, anyway,' he said.</p>
+<p>
+"'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?'"</p>
+
+      <hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/352.png"><img src="images/352-600.png" width="600" height="441" alt="Sowing early mustard and cress on winter underclothing" /></a>
+<h3>INTENSIVE CULTURE FOR FLAT-DWELLERS.</h3>
+<p class="center"><span class="sc">Sowing early mustard and cress on winter underclothing</span>.</p>
+</div>
+      <hr />
+
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"The National War Savings Committee is
+issuing a two-penny cookery book, giving a
+host of simple remedies for economical dishes."
+<i>Birmingham Daily Mail</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+Some of them do upset the internal
+economy, no doubt. </p>
+
+      <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"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."
+<i>Daily News</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+When full of beer it becomes absolutely
+impassable.</p>
+
+      <hr />
+<p>
+Extract from a regimental notice:&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"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."
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+An appropriate and convenient arrangement.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page353" id="page353"></a>[pg 353]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter" style="width: 380px;">
+<a href="images/353.png"><img src="images/353-343.png" width="343" height="450" alt="ERIN TAKES A TURN AT HER OWN HARP." /></a>
+
+<h3>ERIN TAKES A TURN AT HER OWN HARP.</h3>
+<p class="center"><span class="sc">With Mr. Punch's sincere good wishes for the success of the Irish Convention</span>.</p>
+</div>
+      <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page354" id="page354"></a>[pg 354]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px">
+<a href="images/354-1.png"><img src="images/354-1-295.png" width="295" height="430" alt="IN HAPPY DAYS TO COME." /></a>
+
+<h4>IN HAPPY DAYS TO COME.</h4>
+
+<p><i>Non-Politician</i> (<i>in remote country-house, to
+wife on her midnight return from county town</i>).<br />
+"<span class="sc">Mabel, you've been voting</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+    <hr />
+
+
+<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2>
+<p>
+<i>Monday, May 21st</i>.&mdash;Mr. <span class="sc">Maccallum
+Scott</span> complained that a question of
+his relating to the prohibition of
+"dropped scones"&mdash;which Captain
+<span class="sc">Bathurst</span>, that encyclopædia of food-lore,
+described as falling "under the
+same category as the crumpet"&mdash;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 <span class="sc">Hindenburg</span>
+were acquainted with our London
+tea-shops (<i>consule</i> <span class="sc">Devonport</span>) he would
+never have imagined that his famous
+phrase about "biting upon granite"
+would have any terrors for the British
+recruit.</p>
+<p>
+When the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span> read from
+his manuscripts the proposed conditions
+of the Irish Convention&mdash;how it must
+include representatives not only of political
+parties, but of Churches, trade
+unions, commercial and educational
+interests, and of <i>Sinn Fein</i> itself; and
+must be prepared to consider every
+variety of proposal that might be
+brought before it&mdash;an Irish colleague
+whispered to me, "Sure, the Millennium
+will be over before we get it."</p>
+<p>
+Nothing could have been handsomer
+than Mr. <span class="sc">Redmond's</span> 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 <span class="sc">John Lonsdale</span>,
+made no corresponding advance.
+He would submit the proposal to his
+constituents, but not apparently with
+letters commendatory.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 280px;">
+<a href="images/354-2.png"><img src="images/354-2-274.png" width="274" height="450" alt="Pessimist's design for costume of Chairman of Irish Convention." /></a>
+<p><span class="sc">Pessimist's design for costume of
+Chairman of Irish Convention</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>
+I daresay Mr. <span class="sc">William O'Brien</span> 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&mdash;in its higher tones painfully
+provocative&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+Mr. <span class="sc">Healy</span>, cowering beneath the
+shelter of his ample hat, as Mr.
+<span class="sc">O'Brien's</span> arms waved windmill-like
+above him, must have felt like <i>Sancho
+Panza</i> when the <i>Don</i> was in an extra
+fitful mood; but he kept silence even
+from good words.</p>
+<p>
+The briefest and most helpful speech
+of the afternoon came from Sir <span class="sc">Edward
+Carson</span>, 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. <span class="sc">Ginnell</span>
+remained obdurate. In his ears the
+Convention sounds "the funeral dirge
+of the Home Rule Act."</p>
+<p>
+<i>Tuesday, May 22</i>.&mdash;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&mdash;I
+quote Dr. <span class="sc">Macnamara</span>&mdash;"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.</p>
+<p>
+The <span class="sc">Home Secretary</span> moved the
+second reading of the Representation
+of the People Bill with a suavity befitting
+a <span class="sc">Cave</span> 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."</p>
+<p>
+The opponents of the Bill were well-advised
+in selecting Colonel <span class="sc">Sanders</span> 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.</p>
+<p>
+For almost the first time since the
+War Lord <span class="sc">Hugh Cecil</span> 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 <span class="sc">Speaker's</span> 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."</p>
+<p>
+The <span class="sc">Solicitor-General's</span> 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
+<span class="sc">Gilbert's</span> 'Precocious Infant,' who</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>'Turned up his nose at his excellent pap&mdash;</p>
+    <p class="i2">"My friends, it's a tap</p>
+    <p class="i2">Dat is not worf a rap."</p>
+  <p>(Now this was remarkably excellent pap).'"</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>
+<i>Wednesday, May 23rd</i>&mdash;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&mdash;that of Man&mdash;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&mdash;Russia, for instance.</p>
+
+    <hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page355" id="page355"></a>[pg 355]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/355.png"><img src="images/355-600.png" width="600" height="329" alt="Madam! Madam! Will you kindly put down your umbrella? It's keeping the rain off my allotment." /></a>
+
+<p><i>Our Win-the-War Garden Suburb Enthusiast</i> (<i>as the storm bursts</i>).
+"<span class="sc">Madam! Madam! Will you kindly put down your umbrella?
+It's keeping the rain off my allotment</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+    <hr />
+
+<h2>SONGS OF FOOD PRODUCTION.</h2>
+
+<h4>V.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p class="i4"><i>Oh, for grapes a-growing</i></p>
+       <p class="i6"><i>In Ludgate and the Fleet!</i></p>
+     <p class="i4"><i>Cauliflowers blowing</i></p>
+       <p class="i6"><i>Down Regent's Street!</i></p>
+     <p class="i4"><i>Oranges and Lemons</i></p>
+     <p class="i4"><i>Clustered by St. Clemen's,</i></p>
+  <p><i>And Sea Kale careering past the kerb on London Wall!</i></p>
+  <p><i>And oh, for private Mushroom beds rolling down the Mall!</i></p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>Motor engines, motor engines, do not wear a bonnet!</p>
+  <p>You have artificial heat&mdash;grow something on it!</p>
+  <p>Precious artificial heat, costly to instal;</p>
+  <p>Turn it into a hot-bed, growing food for all!</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p><i>Must</i> you have a superstructure? Let it be a hot-house</p>
+  <p>Forcing (say) some early peas&mdash;the only decent pot-house;</p>
+  <p>Oh, if I could only see in walking down the street</p>
+  <p>No unpatriotic waste of all that lovely heat!</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p class="i4"><i>Motor lorries for Marrows!</i></p>
+       <p class="i6"><i>Taxis for Nectarines!</i></p>
+     <p class="i4"><i>No more coster-barrows,</i></p>
+       <p class="i6"><i>But lemon-house Limousines!</i></p>
+     <p class="i4"><i>Oh, to see Tomaties</i></p>
+     <p class="i4"><i>Skidding by Frascati's!</i></p>
+  <p><i>Grand heads of Celery passing the Carlton Grill,</i></p>
+  <p><i>And fine forced Strawberries&mdash;forced up Denmark Hill!</i></p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>Hard's the fight with Nature in our uncongenial climate,</p>
+  <p>Cuddling plants and coaxing 'em, and oh, the weary time it</p>
+  <p>Takes to get a slender crop&mdash;we toil the Summer through;</p>
+  <p>England, needing quick returns, is looking now to you!</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>Food that comes from tropic lands, needing heat upon it,</p>
+  <p>You could grow without a thought, if you'd doff your bonnet;</p>
+  <p>Thousands of you, growing food on your daily trips,</p>
+  <p>Helping to economise the tonnage of our ships.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p class="i4"><i>Oh, to count the numbers</i></p>
+       <p class="i6"><i>Of Cabbages on the march,</i></p>
+     <p class="i4"><i>Jostling with Cucumbers</i></p>
+       <p class="i6"><i>Just at the Marble Arch!</i></p>
+     <p class="i4"><i>Oh, for Piccadilly's</i></p>
+     <p class="i4"><i>Capsicums and Chilies!</i></p>
+  <p><i>Oh, for Peckham's Peaches (not the sort that's canned),</i></p>
+  <p><i>And oh, for ripe Bananas roaring down the Strand!</i></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+    <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"A reaper and binder was destroyed, also a
+foster mother incubator with 43 young children."&mdash;<i>Chester
+Chronicle</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+The paragraph is headed "Fire at a
+Farm"&mdash;a baby-farm, we fear.</p>
+
+    <hr />
+
+
+<h2>IN A GOOD CAUSE.</h2>
+<p>
+On Sunday, June 10th, Mr. <span class="sc">George
+Robey</span> 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.</p>
+<p>
+Mr. <span class="sc">George Robey</span> will be assisted
+by Miss <span class="sc">Irene Vanbrugh</span>, Miss <span class="sc">Helen
+Mar</span>, Mr. <span class="sc">John Hassall</span>, Mr. <span class="sc">Harry
+Dearth</span> and others, as well as by the
+Royal Artillery String Band, the
+Canadian Military Choir and the
+Metropolitan Police Minstrels.</p>
+<p>
+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. <span class="sc">Robey</span>
+at the Hippodrome.</p>
+
+    <hr />
+
+<h4>The Domestic Problem&mdash;Two Extremes.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"<span class="sc">Wanted</span>, Housemaid and Kitchenmaid;
+Paying Guests."
+</p></blockquote>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"<span class="sc">Scullery</span> or Between Maid required immediately
+for Derbyshire; wages £218."</p>
+<p class="author">
+<i>Morning Post</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+
+    <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"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."&mdash;<i>Belfast News Letter</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+An unusual quantity of inflammatory
+matter has been observed recently in
+the Irish Press.</p>
+
+    <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page356" id="page356"></a>[pg 356]</span>
+
+<table width="600px" align="center" summary="cartoon" border="0">
+<tr>
+       <td width="300px"><a href="images/356-1.png">
+	<img src="images/356-1-300.png" width="300" height="380"
+	alt="The Artist and the Village Maid." border="0" /></a>
+<h4><i>Past</i>.</h4>
+<span class="sc">The Artist and the Village Maid</span>.</td>
+       <td width="300px"><a href="images/356-2.png">
+	<img src="images/356-2-300.png" width="300" height="380"
+	alt="The Village Maid and the Artist." border="0" /></a>
+<h4><i>Present</i>.</h4>
+<span class="sc">The Village Maid and the Artist</span>.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<br />
+
+    <hr />
+
+<h2>HEART-TO-HEART TALKS.</h2>
+
+<h4><span style="font-weight: normal;">(<i>Marshal <span class="sc">Von Hindenburg</span>; a Telephone</i>.)</span></h4>
+<p>
+<i>The Telephone</i>. <span class="sc">Rr-rr-rr-rr</span>.</p>
+<p>
+<i>The Marshal</i>. 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&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+<i>The Telephone</i>. Rr-rr.</p>
+<p>
+<i>The Marshal</i>. All right, all right, I'm coming. Yes, I'm
+Marshal <span class="sc">Von Hindenburg</span>. Who are you? What? I can't
+hear a single word. You really must speak up. Louder&mdash;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 <i>Witz</i>, 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 (<i>rings off</i>). (<i>To himself</i>) 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&mdash;and as for the Hindenburg line, I'm
+perfectly tired to death of the words; and the thing itself
+doesn't exist.</p>
+<p>
+<i>The Telephone</i>. Rr-rr-rr-rr.</p>
+<p>
+<i>The Marshal</i>. What, again? This is too much&mdash;who
+are you?  Who?  <span class="sc">Who</span>? General <span class="sc">Von Kluck</span>?  Impossible.
+General <span class="sc">Von Kluck</span>'s dead. What&mdash;not dead?
+Anyhow, nobody's heard of him for months. If you're
+really General <span class="sc">Von Kluck</span> I'm afraid we must consider
+you to be dead. The <span class="sc">Emperor</span> 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 <span class="sc">Von Kluck</span>, 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 <i>you</i> retreat after your famous oblique march during the
+Battle of the Marne? Because you had to, of course.
+There&mdash;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 (<i>rings off</i>).</p>
+<p>
+<i>The Telephone</i>. Rr-rr-rr-rr.</p>
+<p>
+<i>The Marshal</i>. To h-ll with the telephone! Who is it
+now? What&mdash;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 (<i>rings off</i>).</p>
+
+    <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page357" id="page357"></a>[pg 357]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/357.png"><img src="images/357-600.png" width="600" height="395" alt="HALT, FRIEND! WHO GOES THERE?" /></a>
+
+<p><i>Nervous Recruit</i> (<i>on guard for the first time</i>). "<span class="sc">Halt, friend! Who goes there</span>?"</p>
+</div>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<h2>THE HOUSE-MASTER.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>Four years I spent beneath his rule,</p>
+    <p class="i2">For three of which askance I scanned him,</p>
+  <p>And only after leaving school</p>
+    <p class="i2">Came thoroughly to understand him;</p>
+  <p>For he was brusque in various ways</p>
+    <p class="i2">That jarred upon the modern mother,</p>
+  <p>And scouted as a silly craze</p>
+    <p class="i2">The theory of the "elder brother."</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>Renowned at Cambridge as an oar</p>
+    <p class="i2">And quite distinguished as a wrangler,</p>
+  <p>He felt incomparably more</p>
+    <p class="i2">Pride in his exploits as an angler;</p>
+  <p>He held his fishing on the Test</p>
+    <p class="i2">Above the riches of the Speyers,</p>
+  <p>And there he lured me, as his guest,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Into the ranks of the "dry-flyers."</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>He made no fetish of the cane</p>
+    <p class="i2">As owning any special virtue,</p>
+  <p>But held the discipline of pain,</p>
+    <p class="i2">When rightly earned, would never hurt you;</p>
+  <p>With lapses of the normal brand</p>
+    <p class="i2">I think he dealt most mercifully,</p>
+  <p>But chastened with a heavy hand</p>
+    <p class="i2">The sneak, the liar and the bully.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>We used to criticise his boots,</p>
+    <p class="i2">His simple tastes in food and fiction,</p>
+  <p>His everlasting homespun suits,</p>
+    <p class="i2">His leisurely old-fashioned diction;</p>
+  <p>And yet we had the saving <i>nous</i></p>
+    <p class="i2">To recognise no worse disaster</p>
+  <p>Could possibly befall the House</p>
+    <p class="i2">Than the removal of its Master.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>For though his voice was deep and gruff,</p>
+    <p class="i2">And rumbled like a motor-lorry,</p>
+  <p>He showed the true angelic stuff</p>
+    <p class="i2">If any one was sick or sorry;</p>
+  <p>So when pneumonia, doubly dread,</p>
+    <p class="i2">Of breath had nearly quite bereft me,</p>
+  <p>He  watched three nights beside my bed</p>
+    <p class="i2">Until the burning fever left me.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>He served three Heads with equal zeal</p>
+    <p class="i2">And equal absence of ambition;</p>
+  <p>He knew his power, and did not feel</p>
+    <p class="i2">The least desire for recognition;</p>
+  <p>But shrewd observers, who could trace</p>
+    <p class="i2">Back to their source results far-reaching, </p>
+  <p>Saw the true Genius of the Place</p>
+    <p class="i2">Embodied in his life and teaching.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+  <p>The War's deep waters o'er him rolled</p>
+    <p class="i2">As he beheld Young England giving</p>
+  <p>Life prodigally, while the old</p>
+    <p class="i2">Lived on without the cause for living;</p>
+  <p>And yet he never heaved a sigh</p>
+    <p class="i2">Although his heart was inly riven;</p>
+  <p>He only craved one boon&mdash;to die</p>
+    <p class="i2">In harness, and the boon was given.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<h4>Vicarious Parenthood.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"<span class="sc">Dabrera</span>.&mdash;Yesterday, at 6.55 a.m.
+'Shernery,' Bambalapitiya, to Mr. and Mrs.
+Ossy Dabrera a daughter. Grand parents
+doing well.&mdash;<i>Ceylon Independent</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"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."&mdash;<i>Derby Daily Express</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+Mr. <span class="sc">Minns</span> must cheer up. The Trade
+has only to wait for</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"That auspicious day when the velvet glove
+will be stripped for ever from the cloven hoof
+of the German Eagle."&mdash;<i>London Opinion</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"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."&mdash;<i>Daily Paper</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+This statement should go far to clear
+up the obscurity in the public mind.</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"Mr. &mdash;&mdash;  gave one of his popular lectures
+on 'Alcohol' and its effects on March the 30th
+in the Wesleyan school."&mdash;<i>True Blue Magazine</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+What exactly did happen on March
+30th in the Wesleyan school?</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"<span class="sc">Wanted</span>, Smart Workman, aged 80, and
+exempt from military service, as handy man;
+must be steady; a job for life for careful
+man."&mdash;<i>Cambria Daily Leader</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+He must be particularly careful to
+guard against premature decease.</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page358" id="page358"></a>[pg 358]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;">
+<a href="images/358.png"><img src="images/358-355.png" width="355" height="450" alt="We have a very realistic mock-potato soup." /></a>
+
+<p><i>Waitress</i>. "<span class="sc">We have a very realistic mock-potato
+soup</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<h2>EMILY'S MISSION.</h2>
+<p>
+It was all through Emily that I am
+to-day the man I am.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+"Madam," she said to my wife, "I
+have known many housemaids, but
+never one like this. She is, I assure
+you, Madam, absolutely <span class="sc">it</span>."</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+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."</p>
+<p>
+Mildred shook her head. "We can't
+possibly part with her. We should
+never get another servant like her."</p>
+<p>
+"Very well," I said.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+"And what of Emily?" you ask.</p>
+<p>
+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:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+"<span class="sc">Dear Sir</span>,&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+Apologising for any temporary
+inconvenience I may have caused
+you, I am,<br /><br /></p>
+<p class="author">
+Yours faithfully,<br />
+<span class="sc">Emily Johnson</span>,<br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="author">
+<i>Foundress and President of the<br />
+Housemaids' Society for the<br />
+Promotion of Patriotic Beards.</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+   <hr />
+
+
+<h4>Another Impending Apology.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"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."&mdash;<i>Westminster and Pimlico News</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+
+   <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page359" id="page359"></a>[pg 359]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/359.png"><img src="images/359-600.png" width="600" height="407" alt="Mebbe cows won't come in if they see you in that there rig." /></a>
+
+<p><i>Cowman</i> (<i>to new recruit, Women's Land Army</i>).
+"<span class="sc">You get behind that there water-butt. Mebbe cows won't come in if they
+see you in that there rig</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+     <hr />
+
+<h3>THE FIFTEEN TRIDGES.</h3>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+<p>
+"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."</p>
+<p>
+"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."</p>
+<p>
+"Always bear in mind," Ma Tridge
+would say, "that after one has married
+one's cook she ceases to cook."</p>
+<p>
+"Never tell anyone," Pa Tridge would
+say, "who it was you saw in the spinney
+with Mr. Jay or Mrs. Woodpecker."</p>
+<p>
+"Indeed," he would add, "you might
+make a note that the world would not
+come to a miserable end if everyone
+was born dumb"&mdash;but he was very
+glad not to be dumb himself.</p>
+<p>
+"Even though you should get on
+intimate terms with a pheasant," Ma
+Tridge would say, "don't brag about it."</p>
+<p>
+"Forgive, but don't forget," Pa Tridge
+would say.</p>
+<p>
+"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."</p>
+<p>
+"Bear in mind," Ma Tridge would
+say&mdash;but that is more than enough of
+the tiresome old bores.</p>
+<p>
+And after each piece of advice the
+little Tridges would all say, "Right-O!"</p>
+<p>
+And then one night&mdash;these being
+English Tridges in an English early
+summer&mdash;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.</p>
+<p>
+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.</p>
+
+     <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page360" id="page360"></a>[pg 360]</span>
+
+
+<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2>
+
+<h4><span style="font-weight: normal;">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks</i>.)</span></h4>
+<p>
+We have had many studies of the War, in various aspects,
+from our own army. Now in <i>My <b>&middot;</b>75</i> (<span class="sc">Heinemann</span>) 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. <span class="sc">Paul Lintier</span>,
+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.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/360.png"><img src="images/360-600.png" width="600" height="412" alt="... these cigars in London would cost you close on a tanner apiece" /></a>
+
+<p><i>Tommy</i> (<i>who has made a find in a German dug-out</i>).
+"<span class="sc"><i>Now</i>, Albert, aren't you glad you came? why, these cigars in London would
+cost you close on a tanner apiece</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+     <hr />
+<p>
+The author of <i>Helen
+of Four Gates</i> (<span class="sc">Jenkins</span>)
+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 <i>Helen of Four Gates</i> 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 <i>Mason</i> 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 <i>Day</i> and <i>Helen</i> 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 <i>Helen</i> for <i>Martin</i>, 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 <i>Wuthering Heights</i>, both in setting
+and treatment. There is indeed more than a hint of the
+<span class="sc">Brontë</span> touch about the Ex-Mill Girl. For that and other
+things I send her (whoever she is) my felicitations and good
+wishes.</p>
+
+     <hr />
+<p>
+I wonder if Mr. (or Mrs. or Miss) E.K. <span class="sc">Weekes</span> would
+understand me if I put my verdict upon <i>The Massareen
+Affair</i> (<span class="sc">Arnold</span>) 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 <i>The
+Massareen Affair</i> that are more than promising&mdash;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 <i>Anthony Massareen</i>&mdash;<i>Claudia</i>,
+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 <i>Massareens</i>&mdash;all these
+are well and credibly drawn. But when we arrive at the
+fanatic wife of <i>Anthony</i>, 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.</p>
+
+     <hr />
+<p>
+I am seriously thinking of chaining <i>Grand Fleet Days</i> (<span class="sc">Hodder
+and Stoughton</span>) to my bookcase, for it is written by the author
+of <i>In the Northern Mists</i>, 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 <i>not</i> doing?"</p>
+
+     <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"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."&mdash;<i>Manchester Evening News</i>.
+</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+It must indeed have been a wonderful sight. Nevertheless
+we hope that nurses generally will stick to their
+traditional uniform.</p>
+
+     <hr />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+152, May 30, 1917, by Various
+
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+
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@@ -0,0 +1,2174 @@
+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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