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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159,
+September 15, 1920, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159, September 15, 1920
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Owen Seaman
+
+Release Date: January 31, 2006 [EBook #17654]
+
+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. 159.
+
+
+September 15th, 1920.
+
+
+
+
+CHARIVARIA.
+
+Prohibition meetings in Scotland, says an official, have been attended
+by fifty thousand people. We should not have thought there were so
+many aliens in Scotland.
+
+ * * *
+
+At an Oldbury wedding the other day a brick was thrown at the
+bridegroom. There is no excuse for this sort of thing with confetti so
+cheap.
+
+ * * *
+
+One of the Pacific Islands, we read, is so small that the House of
+Commons could not be planted on it. A great pity.
+
+ * * *
+
+"Do hotel chefs use cookery-books?" asks a home journal. Our own
+opinion is that quite a large proportion of them cook by ear.
+
+ * * *
+
+Fourteen thousand artificial teeth recently stolen from premises in
+East London have not been recovered. While not attempting to indicate
+the guilty party, we cannot refrain from pointing out that several
+Labour leaders have recently been showing a good many more teeth than
+they were thought entitled to possess.
+
+ * * *
+
+At the Trades Union Congress a protest was made against the
+Unemployment Insurance Act. This must not be confused with the miners'
+threat to strike. That is merely a method of ensuring unemployment.
+
+ * * *
+
+The arrangement by which a hundred-and-fifty amateur brass bands are
+to play at the Crystal Palace on September 25th looks like an attempt
+to distract us from the miners' strike fixed for that day.
+
+ * * *
+
+A Ramsgate man charged with shooting a cat denied that he fired at it.
+The animal is said to have dashed at the bullet and impaled himself
+upon it.
+
+ * * *
+
+It has been agreed, says a news item, that milk shall be tenpence a
+quart this winter. Not by us.
+
+ * * *
+
+The War Office announces that Arabs in Southern Mesopotamia have
+captured a British armoured train. It should be pointed out to these
+Arab rebels that it is such behaviour as this that discourages the
+tourist spirit.
+
+ * * *
+
+Upon reading that another lady had failed in her attempt to swim the
+Channel a Scotsman inquires whether the Cross-Channel steamer rates
+have been increased, like everything else.
+
+ * * *
+
+We are informed that at a football match recently played in the
+Rhondda Valley the referee won.
+
+ * * *
+
+General OBREGON, says an unofficial message, has been elected
+President of Mexico. The startling report that he has decided to
+reverse the safe policy of his predecessors and recognise the United
+States requires corroboration.
+
+ * * *
+
+Everybody should economise after a great war, says an American film
+producer. We always do our best after every great war.
+
+ * * *
+
+According to an official report only fifty policemen were bitten by
+dogs in London last week. The falling off is said to be due to the
+fact that it has been rather a good year for young and tender postmen.
+
+ * * *
+
+Some highly-strung persons, says a medical writer, are even afraid of
+inanimate objects. This accounts for many nervous people being afraid
+of venturing too near a plumber.
+
+ * * *
+
+"I only want the potatoes in the allotment and not the earth," said a
+complainant at Deptford. It is evident that, if this man is a trade
+unionist, he is a raw amateur.
+
+ * * *
+
+Doctors at Vicenza have threatened to strike. This means that people
+in that neighbourhood will have to die without medical assistance.
+
+ * * *
+
+"Chief Hailstorm," of the Texas Rangers, has arrived in London. His
+brother, Chief Rainstorm, has, of course, been with us most of the
+summer.
+
+ * * *
+
+Girls, declares a well-known City caterer, are acquiring bigger
+appetites. We somehow suspected that the demand for a return of the
+wasp waist had influential interests behind it.
+
+ * * *
+
+The wife of a miner in Warwickshire has recently presented her husband
+with three baby boys. We understand that Mr. SMILLIE is sorry to have
+missed three extra strike-votes which he would have obtained had the
+boys been born a little earlier.
+
+ * * *
+
+An extraordinary story reaches us from North London. It appears that
+during the building of a house a brick slipped unnoticed from a
+hod and fell into its correct position, with the result that the
+accountant employed by the bricklayers could not balance his books at
+the end of the day.
+
+ * * *
+
+"As science measures time," declares an eminent geologist, "the Garden
+of Eden was a thing of yesterday." All we can say is, "Where was
+Councillor CLARK yesterday?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Special Correspondent._ "WHEN THEY RELEASED ME THEY
+SAID THAT IF I SHOWED MY FACE IN IRELAND AGAIN I SHOULD BE SHOT."
+
+_Editor._ "I'LL LET THESE SINN FEINERS SEE THAT I'M NOT TO BE
+INTIMIDATED. YOU'LL GO BACK BY THE NEXT TRAIN."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "POLES OVER THE LINE."
+
+ _Evening Paper._
+
+So _that_ accounts for the weather.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Whatever other defects may be alleged against the scarlet
+ uniform, it certainly makes for two things--discipline and
+ smartness--and these two are very important factors in
+ discipline."
+
+ _"Civil and Military Gazette," Lahore._
+
+Especially the former.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "During the night, she [Mrs. Hamilton, the Channel swimmer] said,
+ 'I occasionally took hot drinks and ate cold roast chicken, the
+ small bones of which I kept chewing, as it seemed to assist
+ me....'
+
+ A strict vegetarian, Mrs. Hamilton will sometimes swim five miles
+ before dinner, and skips for a few minutes every day."
+
+ _Scotch Paper._
+
+She should skip the chicken if she wants us to be excited about her
+strict vegetarianism.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+DOGGEREL.
+
+TO THE PRIME MINISTER'S ST. BERNARD PUP.
+
+ Ere your native country figured as the home of winter sport,
+ Paradise of spies and agents, and for kings a last resort;
+ Ere the hospitable chamois lent his haunts to Bolsh and Hun
+ Or the queue of rash toboggans took the curve of Cresta Run;
+
+ Long before a locomotive climbed the Rigi, cog by cog,
+ Fame had mentioned your forefathers--such a noble breed of dog,
+ How they tracked the lonely traveller with their nimble, sleuthy snouts,
+ Till beneath a billowy snowdrift they remarked his whereabouts.
+
+ How they dug him out of cold-store like a Canterbury sheep,
+ Took their tongues and kindly licked him where his nose
+ had gone to sleep,
+ Called attention to the cognac which they wore in little kegs
+ And remobilised the stagnant circulation in his legs.
+
+ How they lifted up their voices, baying like an iron bell,
+ Till the monks of good St. Bernard heard the same and ran like hell--
+ Ran and bore him to their hospice, where they put him into bed
+ And applied a holy posset stiff enough to wake the dead.
+
+ Heir to this superb tradition, born to such a pride of race,
+ From the doggy _flair_ that tells you what a lineage you can trace
+ You will draw, I trust, a solace for the strange and alien scene
+ Where you undergo purgation in a stuffy quarantine.
+
+ Further, if a homesick feeling sets you itching in the scalp
+ With a wave of poignant longing for the odour of an Alp,
+ Let this thought (a thing of splendour) help to keep your pecker up--
+ You have had a high promotion; you are now a Premier's pup!
+
+ You shall guard his sacred portals, you shall eat from off his plate,
+ Mix with private secretaries, move behind the veil of State,
+ And at Ministerial councils, as a special form of treat,
+ You shall sniff at WINSTON'S trousers, you shall fondle CURZON'S feet.
+
+ You may even serve your master as an expert, one who knows
+ All the rules regarding salvage in the Great St. Bernard snows,
+ Do him good by utilising your hereditary gift
+ To retrieve his Coalition from a constant state of drift.
+
+ O.S.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE PRODIGIES.
+
+We--Great-aunts Emily and Louisa--had in our innocence been telling a
+few old fairy stories at bedtime to those three precocities whom our
+hosts call their children.
+
+We knew that they talked Latin and Greek in their sleep and were too
+much for their parents in argument, but we thought that at least, at
+the story hour----
+
+We were stopped by Drusilla. "I don't think much of the moral of that
+one," she remarked. "It would seem to illustrate the Evil Consequences
+of Benevolence!"
+
+"But she came alive again," said Evadne, the youngest, in extenuation.
+
+"And the wolf was killed," we ventured in defence of our old story.
+
+"Still," persisted Drusilla, "you couldn't call it encouraging."
+
+"Then in the other case," went on Claude thoughtfully, "considering
+that she had been left in sole charge of the house and had no business
+to go out and leave it to the mercy of burglars, what moral are we to
+draw from the fact that she married a Prince and lived happily ever
+afterwards?"
+
+"Most of them have that sort of moral," said Drusilla. "And they
+are every one of them devoid of humour, except of the most obvious
+kind--no subtlety."
+
+"When _I_ was your age," said poor Louisa gently, "I used to laugh
+very heartily over the adventures of _Tom Thumb_."
+
+Claude seemed touched. "There are some capital situations in certain
+of them," he conceded, "which might be quite effectively treated."
+
+"How?" we asked weakly.
+
+It was Drusilla, the most alarming of the children, who finally
+undertook to sketch us out an example.
+
+After a short meditation, "Something like this," she said. "The
+situation, of course, you have met with before, but as remodelled you
+might call it--
+
+
+ THE TRIUMPH OF VIRTUE;
+ OR,
+ THE BAD FAIRY FOILED.
+
+
+ A certain King and Queen had one daughter, to whose christening
+ they invited a large company, forgetting as usual a particularly
+ important and bad-tempered Fairy, who signified her annoyance in
+ the usual manner.
+
+ The attendants of the little Princess (having read their
+ story-books) were preparing dolefully enough to fall asleep for a
+ hundred years, when the Fairy, with a contemptuous sniff, remarked
+ that the spell would not take effect for some time yet.
+
+ They breathed again and had almost forgotten the affair by the
+ time the Princess had grown up. But the Fairy had so arranged it
+ that the spell fell upon the Princess at the time when she was
+ engaged in making her choice of a husband from among the suitors
+ who had arrived at her father's Court.
+
+ The Princess was now bewitched in this way--that good men appeared
+ bad, ugly men handsome, and _vice versâ_. The Fairy had hoped that
+ she would thus make a mess of her matrimonial affairs and live
+ unhappily ever after.
+
+ But she had reckoned without the disposition of the Princess, a
+ kind good girl with an overpowering sense of duty. When pressed
+ to choose, she replied firmly, "I will have no other than Prince
+ Felix."
+
+ To her his ugliness seemed pathetic and his character evidently
+ needed reformation so urgently that she longed to be at the job.
+ No one wondered at her choice, for he was, of course, the most
+ handsome and excellent of men.
+
+ Ultimately the Fairy broke her spell in a fit of exasperation, but
+ without any gratifying result. The Princess seemed happier than
+ ever and would sometimes say to a slightly puzzled friend:--
+
+ "Hasn't Felix improved _wonderfully_ since I married him?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "From 1910 to 1916 he was Viceroy in India, governing the
+ Dependency through very critical years and enjoying general
+ esteem, as was made clear in 1912, when an attempt was made to
+ assassinate him at Delhi."--"_Daily Mail" on Lord Hardinge_.
+
+It sounds like a _succès d'estime_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE PUBLIC BENEFACTOR.
+
+MR. SMILLIE. "I CAN'T BEAR TO THINK OF YOUR PAYING SO MUCH FOR YOUR COAL.
+I MUST PUT THAT RIGHT; I MUST SEE THAT YOU DON'T GET ANY."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _First Tramp_. "IN THIS BIT O' NOOSPAPER IT SAYS:
+'THE 'OLE CAUSE OF THE WORLD'S PRESENT DISORDER IS THE UNIVERSAL
+SPIRIT OF UNREST. I WONDER IF THAT'S TRUE?"
+
+_Second Tramp_. "I AIN'T NOTICED IT."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE COAL CUP.
+
+It seems to me that we all take a great deal of interest in the miners
+when they strike, but not nearly enough when they hew. And yet
+this business of hacking large lumps of fuel out of a hole, since
+civilisation really depends on it, ought to be represented to us from
+day to day as the beautiful and thrilling thing that it really is. Yet
+if we put aside for a moment Mr. SMILLIE'S present demands, we find
+the main topics of discussion in the daily Press as I write are
+roughly these:--
+
+ (1) The prospects of League Football and the Cup Ties.
+
+ (2) Ireland.
+
+ (3) The prevalence of deafness amongst blue-eyed cats.
+
+ (4) Mesopotamia.
+
+ (5) The Fall of Man.
+
+ (6) The sale of _The Daily Mail_, whose circulation during
+the coming winter is for some reason or other supposed to be almost
+as important to the children of England as their own.
+
+Of all these topics the first is, of course, by far the most
+absorbing, and almost everyone has remarked how the love of sport, for
+which Britons are famous, is growing more passionate than ever. It is
+not only cricket and football, of course; only the other day there was
+a shilling sweepstake on the St. Leger in our office and, from what
+I hear of the form of Westmorland in the County Croquet Championship
+during the past season--but I have no time to discuss these things
+now.
+
+The point is that, whilst this excitement over games grows greater
+and greater, the country is suffering, say the economists, from
+under-production and the inflation of the wage-bill. This means that
+everyone is trying to do less work and get more money for it, a very
+natural ambition which nobody can blame the miners from sharing. I
+suppose that if they all stopped mining and we had to depend for
+warmth on wrapping ourselves up in moleskins, the molliers, or
+whatever they are called, would strike for a two-shillings rise as
+well.
+
+The worst of it is that under-production, say the economists again
+(there is no keeping anything from these smart lads), sends prices up.
+Obviously then there is only one thing to do: we must take advantage
+of the prevailing passion and make mining (and other industries too
+for that matter) a form of sport. The daily papers should find very
+little difficulty in doing this.
+
+ WHO HEWS HARDEST?
+ CLAIM BY A LANARKSHIRE COLLIER
+
+would do very well for the headings of a preliminary article; and
+the claim of the Lanarkshire collier would, I am sure, be instantly
+challenged. After a few letters we might have a suggestion, say from
+Wales, that no team of eleven miners could hew so hard and so much
+as a Welsh one. And from that it would be only a short step to the
+formation of district league competitions and an international
+championship. Or the old-time system under which cricketers were
+matched for a stake by sporting patrons might be revived, and we
+should have headlines in the evening Press after this fashion:--
+
+ HUGE HEWING CONTEST.
+ NOTTS FOREST v. NEWCASTLE UNITED.
+ TREMENDOUS WAGER BETWEEN
+ THE DUKES OF PORTLAND AND
+ NORTHUMBERLAND
+
+and all the glades of Sherwood and the banks where the wild Tyne flows
+would be glad.
+
+It will be objected, of course, that the hewing of coal is not a
+spectacular affair. You cannot pack sixty thousand spectators into a
+mine to watch a hewing match, and even if you could the lighting is
+bad; but that is just where the skill of the reporters would come in.
+After all, we do not most of us see the races on which we bet, nor
+the Golf Championship, nor even BECKETT and WELLS. But there would be
+articles on the correct swing whilst hewing, and the proper stance,
+and how far the toes should be turned in; the chances of every team
+would be discussed; the current odds would be quoted, and, whoever
+won, the consumer would score, whilst the strongest hewers would
+become popular heroes and be photographed on the back-page standing
+beside their hews.
+
+I admit that the South of England and London in particular would have
+very little share in these competitions, and we should depend for
+local interest mainly upon the promising young colts from the Kentish
+nurseries. But we could find out from our dealers where our coals
+came from and follow from afar the fortunes of our adopted teams; and
+Cabinet Ministers, at any rate, could distribute their patronage and
+their presence with tact over the various areas involved.
+
+ MR. BALFOUR HEWS OFF AT
+ DURHAM
+
+is another headline which seems to suggest itself, and I should
+strongly urge the PRIME MINISTER, who has returned, I hear, with a St.
+Bernard from the Alps, to lose no time in selecting a more appropriate
+playmate.
+
+ PREMIER AT TONYPANDY.
+ MR. LLOYD GEORGE PATS PET
+ PIT-PONY
+
+is the kind of thing I mean, and very hard also to say six times
+quickly without making a mistake.
+
+Obviously the result of all this would be that not only would the
+miners be justified in asking for more money, but that the country
+would be able to afford it; and similar competitive leagues, to
+supersede trade unions, would soon be formed by other trades. One
+seems to hear faintly the loud plaudits of the onlookers as two crack
+teams of West-end road-menders step smartly into the arena....
+
+EVOE.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=Our Bolshevik Colonies.=
+
+ "Married Shepherd, used hilly country and all farm and station
+ work, desires Situation; wife would cook one or two men."
+
+"_The Press," Christchurch, N.Z._
+
+ "Miss ----, a soubrette, whose songs lean towards the voluptuous,
+ sank 'Somebody's Baby.' Her encore number, 'You'd be Surprised,'
+ was even more so."
+
+"_The Dominion," Wellington, N.Z._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Woodland Sprite (from Stepney, to eminent botanist)._
+"PLEASE, MISTER, MAGGIE WANTS TO KNOW WHAT YOU CHARGE FOR TAKING
+TWINS?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE PASSING OF THE CRADLE.
+
+ [According to a report which recently appeared in a daily paper,
+ cradles for infants are becoming a thing of the past.]
+
+ Snug retreat for mother's treasure,
+ Shall I pine as I repeat
+ Rumour's strange report, which says you're
+ Virtually obsolete?
+ Shall these lips a doleful lyric
+ Proffer at your ghostly bier,
+ Or compose a panegyric
+ Moistened with a minstrel's tear?
+
+ Me the theme leaves too unshaken,
+ Though "some" father more or less;
+ Better 'twere if undertaken
+ By my wife (a poetess);
+ And, if I be asked, Why vainly
+ Occupy, then, so much space?
+ My concern, I'll say, is mainly
+ With the woman in the case.
+
+ For, when she and you shall sever
+ (Though 'tis early yet to crow),
+ Your departure may for ever
+ Lay her proudest triumph low;
+ Yes, while men (I'm much afraid) 'll
+ Round her fingers still be twirled,
+ If her hand can't rock a cradle
+ It may cease to boss the world.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=Commercial Candour.=
+
+ "Irate Householders, why be swindled in a clumsy manner? Fetch
+ your second-hand clothing to me and be done in the most approved
+ style."--_Daily Paper_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"MORE LITERARY HEREDITY.
+
+ Fresh literary fame seems to be pending for the Maurice Hewlett
+ family circle.
+
+ Mr. Robin Richards, the son-in-law of the famous novelist, is
+ about to appeal to fiction readers with his first novel."--_Daily
+ Paper_.
+
+No more of the old-fashioned DARWIN and GALTON nonsense about fathers
+and children.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+SEVEN WHITEBAIT.
+
+Here and there in the drab routine of modern existence it is still
+possible to catch an occasional glimpse of romance and courageous
+living, and in the volume which lies before us as we write we are
+given a generous measure of peril and adventure in faery seas forlorn.
+_From Whitebait to Kipper: The Story of Seven Lives_, is the vivid
+record of a family of herrings, set down (posthumously, it would seem)
+with refreshing simplicity by Walter Herring, the youngest and perhaps
+the most brilliant of the family. The story begins with the early
+childhood of Walter, John, Isabel, Margaret, Rupert, Stéphanie and
+little Foch, the last of whom was so named because he was born on the
+anniversary of the Armistice. (As a matter of fact they were all born
+on the same day, but for some reason which is not explained only one
+of them was called Foch.)
+
+You, reader, are one of those ignorant people who do so much discredit
+to our Public Schools. You fondly think that the whitebait is a
+special kind of fish, that there are father whitebaits and mother
+whitebaits and baby whitebaits. You are wrong. There are only baby
+whitebaits. At least there are baby herrings and baby pilchards, and
+these are called whitebait because they are eaten by the mackerel and
+because they look white when they are swimming upside down.
+
+Anyhow Walter and John and Isabel and Margaret and Rupert and
+Stéphanie and little Foch began life as whitebait. They used to charge
+about the Cornish seas with whole platefuls of other whitebait,
+millions of them, and wherever they went they were pursued by
+thousands of mackerel, who wanted to eat them. One day John felt that
+the moment was very near when he would be eaten by a mackerel, and he
+was quite right. Isabel felt the same thing, but she was wrong.
+She jumped out of the water and was eaten by a sea-gull. When the
+fishermen saw Isabel leaping into the air they came out and caught
+the mackerel in a net. They also caught Margaret with a lot of other
+whitebait; and she was eaten by a barrister at "Claridge's."
+
+There were now four of the family who had not been eaten by anyone. It
+is extraordinary when you come to think of it that any herring ever
+contrives to reach maturity at all. What with the mackerel and the
+seagulls and the barristers, everybody seems to be against it.
+However, Walter, Rupert and Foch succeeded. Stéphanie just missed.
+Walter and Rupert and Foch had jolly soft roes, a fact which is
+recorded in a cynical little poem by the precocious Foch, believed
+to be the only literary work of a whitebait now extant. We have only
+space here to quote the opening couplet:--
+
+ The herrings with the nice soft rows
+ Are gentlemen; the rest are does.
+
+The survivors of the family had now to choose a career. From the
+beginning it seems to have been recognised that Stéphanie at least
+would have to be content with a humbler sphere than her more gifted
+brothers. She had a hard roe and was rather looked down upon. But she
+was an independent little thing and her pride revolted at a life of
+subjection at home; so while still a girl she went off on her own and
+got mixed up with some pilchards who were just being caught in a net.
+Stéphanie was caught too and became a sardine. She was carefully oiled
+and put in a tin, and she was eaten at a picnic near Hampton Court.
+But there is every reason to suppose that she was eaten happy, since
+in those less exacting circles nobody seemed to mind about her hard
+roe, which had been a perpetual bugbear to her in the herring world.
+
+Meanwhile the remaining three had decided on a career. They were
+determined to be fresh herrings. This is of course the highest
+ambition of all herrings, though sadly few succeed in attaining it.
+One herring in his time plays many parts (SHAKESPEARE); he can seldom
+say with confidence what exactly he will be to-morrow; but he can
+be fairly certain that it won't be a fresh herring. Of our three
+survivors Rupert alone was to win the coveted distinction. He grew
+to be a fine boy and was eaten at Hammersmith, where his plump but
+delicate roe gave the greatest satisfaction. It was not eaten in the
+ordinary humdrum way, but was thickly spread on a piece of buttered
+toast, generously peppered, and _devoured_. And when his "wish" was
+placed on the kitchen-range, swelled rapidly and burst with a loud
+report, his cup of happiness was full.
+
+Little Foch, alas, failed to fulfil his youthful promise and became a
+common bloater. Worse than that, he was bloated too thoroughly and was
+almost impossible to eat. Even his lovely roe, the pride of his heart,
+became so salt that the Rector of Chitlings finally rejected it with
+ignominy, though not before he had consumed so much of it that he had
+to drink the whole of his sermon-water before he began to preach.
+
+But it was Walter, Walter the chronicler, Walter the clever, the
+daring, the ambitious, leader in every escapade, adviser in every
+difficulty, who was to suffer the crowning humiliation. Walter became
+a kipper. If there is one thing that a herring cannot stand it is to
+be separated from his roe. Walter's roe was ruthlessly torn from him
+and served up separate on toast, with nothing to show that it was
+the glorious roe of Walter. It was eaten at the Criterion by a
+stockbroker, and it might have been anybody's roe. Meanwhile the
+mutilated frame, the empty shell of Walter, was squashed flat in a
+wooden box with a mass of others and sold at an auction by the pound.
+It broke his heart.
+
+A.P.H.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FLOWERS' NAMES.
+
+LADY'S SLIPPER.
+
+ Country gossips, nodding slow
+ When the fire is burning low,
+ Or chatting round about the well
+ On the green at Ashlins Dell,
+ With many a timid backward glance
+ And fingers crossed and eyes askance,
+ Still tell about the Midmas Day
+ When Marget Malherb went away.
+
+ "After Midmas Day shall break,
+ Maidens, neither brew nor bake;
+ See your house be sanded clean;
+ Wear no stitch of fairy green;
+ Go barefoot; wear nor hose nor shoon
+ From rise of sun to rise of moon;
+ For the Good People watch and wait
+ Waiting early, watching late,
+ For foolish maids who treat with scorn
+ The mystic rites of Midmas Morn."
+
+ Marget Malherb tossed her head,
+ "I fear no fairies' charms," she said--
+ For she'd new slippers she would wear
+ To show her lad the pretty pair,
+ Soft green leather, buckled red--
+ "I fear no fairies' charms," she said.
+ She drew them on and laughed in scorn,
+ And out she danced on Midmas Morn.
+
+ Nevermore was Marget seen;
+ But when her lover sought the green
+ A Fairy Ring was all he found--
+ A Fairy Ring on the weeping ground;
+ And by the hedge a flower grew,
+ Long and slender, filled with dew,
+ Green and pointed, ribboned red;
+ And still you'll find them as I've said.
+ And Marget comes, so gossips say,
+ To wear her shoes on Midmas Day.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=The Gladiatorial Spirit.=
+
+ "Crossbie would have done better to have shot himself, but he gave
+ the ball to his partner."--_Provincial Paper_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "MILK PRICES UP.
+ HIGHER CHARGE TO MEET THE COST OF PETROL."
+
+_Daily Paper_.
+
+We always thought it was water that they used.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "EVERYBODY COULD BE LIKE US"
+
+BY TAKING "_PLUMPO_" TABLETS. THE SECRET OF STRENGTH AND BEAUTY]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: GOOD NEWS FOR WOMEN!
+
+"Every woman may be beautiful"
+
+Leonina Robinson
+
+CONSULTATIONS DAILY APPLY FOR MADAME R'S LATEST BOOK
+
+MADAME ROBINSON "HOW TO FASCINATE"]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: DOCTORS DESPAIRED--
+
+AMAZING STATEMENT BY WELL KNOWN LONDON MAN!!!
+
+Mr. SYD PORKER of 250A GLADSTONE TERRACE TOOTING WRITES
+
+"..._I AM TWICE THE MAN I WAS_."
+
+Mr. PORKER (TAKEN FROM LIFE)
+
+PARKES'S PURPLE PILLS.]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: WHY MAKE A SIGHT OF YOURSELF?
+
+ONE BOTTLE OF "FRIZOLIN" FIXES THE HAIR LIKE GLUE]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: DO YOU SUFFER FROM LACK OF BRAINS?
+
+IF SO--SEND P.O. FOR 2/6 TO
+
+PROF. X. BOX M. ROOM N. 21 SLOPER'S COURT PECKHAM
+
+_AND AWAIT RESULTS_.
+
+"ASTOUNDING!" (PRESS OPINION)
+
+PROF. X. THE MAN WHO HAS REVOLUTIONISED MEDICAL SCIENCE.]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: CECILIA BLOBS ROBES]
+
+ * * *
+
+THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF BEAUTY IN ART.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Bored Spectator_. "'ERE, NOT SO MUCH OF THE
+CA-CANNY."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+A DIFFERENCE OF CLASS.
+
+It is without doubt the most expensive hotel on the front, and the
+palatial dining-room in which we have just lunched is furnished and
+decorated in that sumptuously luxurious style to which only wealth,
+untrammelled by art, is able to attain. Personally I cannot afford to
+take my meals at such places, and I know that the same holds good of
+my fellow-guest, Charteris. Charteris was the best scholar of our
+year at Oriel, and since his demobilisation he and his wife have been
+living in two rooms, except during the periods when their son joins
+them for his holidays from Winchester. But our host is still possessed
+of an obstinate wealth which even the War has done little to diminish,
+and, as he himself puts it, is really grateful to those of his old
+friends who will help him in public to support the ignominy.
+
+At the moment, having finished lunch, we have betaken ourselves to
+wicker-chairs in the porch, and Charteris and our host being deep in a
+golf discussion I venture once more to turn a covert attention to the
+exceedingly splendid couple who have just followed us out from the
+dining-room. I noticed them first on my arrival, when they were just
+getting out of their Rolls-Royce, and the admiration which I then
+conceived for them was even further enhanced during lunch by a near
+view of the lady's diamonds and of the Cinquevalli-like dexterity
+shown by her husband in balancing a full load of peas on the concave
+side of a fork. At present the man, somewhat flushed with champagne,
+is smoking an enormous cigar with a red-and-gold band round it, while
+the lady, her diamonds flashing in the sunshine, leans back in her
+chair and regards with supercilious eyes the holiday crowds that
+throng the pavement below.
+
+Following her glance my attention is suddenly arrested by the strange
+behaviour of two passers-by, who have stopped in the middle of the
+pavement and, after exchanging some excited comments, are staring
+fixedly towards us. From their appearance they would seem to be a
+typical husband and wife of the working-class on holiday, and it
+occurs to me that, given the clothes and the diamonds, they might well
+be occupying the wicker-chairs of the couple opposite. Evidently the
+sight of somebody or something in the hotel porch has excited
+them greatly, for they continue to stare up at us with a hostile
+concentration that renders them quite unconscious of the frantic
+efforts of the small child who accompanies them to tug them towards
+the beach. After a moment they exchange a few more quick words, and
+the man leaves his companion and makes his way towards us. Ascending
+the hotel steps with an air of great determination he comes to a halt
+before the couple opposite.
+
+"'Ere, I've bin lookin' for you," he begins accusingly.
+
+The Rolls-Royce owner takes the cigar from his mouth and gazes in
+astonishment at the accusing apparition before him.
+
+"A hour ago," pursues the newcomer relentlessly, "you was driving
+along the front here in the whackin' great car. It ain't no good
+denyin' it, 'cos I took the number."
+
+"What d'ye mean--denying it?" exclaims Rolls-Royce. "Who's denying
+anythink?"
+
+"It ain't no good tryin' to deny it," retorts the other. "An' it ain't
+no good denyin' wot you did neether, 'cos I've got my missus 'ere to
+prove it."
+
+"What I did?" echoes the astonished man. "What did I do?"
+
+"Ran over my child's b'loon," states the accuser, fixing him with a
+pitiless eye. For the moment the object of this serious charge is too
+taken aback to be capable of speech.
+
+"'Ran over my child's b'loon,'" repeats the other inexorably.
+"Leastways your chauffer did. An' when we 'ollered out to yer to stop
+you just rushed on like a runaway railway-train."
+
+Rolls-Royce, conscious of the curious gaze of the entire company,
+pulls himself together and regards his accuser unfavourably.
+
+"First I've 'eard of it," he growls. "Where was the balloon anyway? In
+the road, I s'pose?"
+
+"Yes, it _was_ in the road," retorts the other defiantly, "where
+it's got every right to be. Road's there for the convenience of
+b'loon-fliers just as much as for motor-cars. More."
+
+"Look 'ere, that's enough of it," says the car-owner harshly. "If
+the balloon got run over it's yer own fault for letting it go in the
+road."
+
+"That's a nice way to talk," suddenly comes in shrill tones from the
+woman below, who has edged her way to the foot of the steps. "We don't
+go buyin' balloons for you to run over in yer cars. We're respectable
+people, we are, an' we work for our livin'."
+
+"Drivin' about in a car like an express train, runnin' over other
+people's b'loons," corroborates her husband bitterly. "Wot country
+d'yer think yer in? Prussia?"
+
+By this time a small crowd has gathered on the pavement and is gazing
+up at the protagonists with ghoulish interest. The lady in the
+diamonds, a prey to mingled indignation and alarm, has leant towards
+her spouse and is whispering to him urgently, but he shakes her off
+with an impatient movement.
+
+"Not on yer life," he snaps. "They won't get a cent out o' me."
+
+"Ho, won't we!" exclaims his accuser hotly. "We'll soon see about
+that. We're English people, we are--we don't allow people to go about
+destroyin' our b'loons."
+
+"No wonder they're so rich," cries the woman at the bottom of
+the steps in satirical tones. "That's the way to get rich, that
+is--destroyin' other people's prop'ty an' then refusin' to pay for it.
+Anybody could get rich that way."
+
+Reflections on the feasibility of this novel financial scheme are cut
+short by the appearance at the top of the steps of the hotel porter,
+who touches the originator of the disturbance on the shoulder.
+
+"Come on, you're not allowed up 'ere, you know," he observes.
+
+"Ho, ain't I?" retorts the man defiantly. "Is this Buckingham Pallis?"
+
+"You can't come up 'ere unless you've got business in the 'otel,"
+states the porter unmoved.
+
+"So I 'ave got bisness 'ere," declares the other. "Bisness c'nected
+with my son's b'loon."
+
+"An' we don't leave 'ere till it's settled, neither," cries the lady
+on the pavement. "'Alf-a-crown that balloon cost, an' we don't budge
+from 'ere till we get it."
+
+This is altogether too much for the owner of the Rolls-Royce.
+
+"'Alf-a-crown?" he explodes and turns indignantly to the company.
+"'Alf-a-crown for a child's balloon, and _then_ they go on strike."
+
+Derisive cheers and counter-cheers go up from the crowd below as the
+incensed balloon-owner bursts forth into an impassioned defence of his
+inalienable right as a free-born Briton to strike or to buy half-crown
+balloons as the spirit moves him. Simultaneously the lady in the
+diamonds rises and, producing a coin from her gold bag, holds it with
+a superb gesture at arm's length beneath his nose. For a moment or two
+he pays no attention to her, then takes the coin impatiently with the
+air of one brushing aside an irritating interruption and continues his
+harangue.
+
+"Come on," puts in the porter; "you've got yer 'alf-crown. S'pose you
+move on."
+
+"Got me 'alf-crown, 'ave I'?" he retorts. "Wot about my rights as a
+man? Does 'alf-a-crown buy them?"
+
+No one venturing to solve this social problem he turns slowly and,
+glaring over his shoulder at Rolls-Royce, descends the steps.
+
+"I'm an Englishman, I am," he concludes from the pavement. "No one
+can't close my mouth with 'alf-crowns."
+
+For a brief space he stands scowling up at the porch as though
+challenging all and sundry to perform this feat, then, taking his wife
+by the arm, moves off with her and the still insistent child towards
+the beach. The crowd on the pavement, regretfully convinced that the
+entertainment is at an end, disperses slowly. Rolls-Royce, seemingly
+unconscious of the interest of Charteris and our host, who are looking
+at him covertly as at some zoological specimen, relights his cigar and
+sits glowering across the road, and silence falls upon the scene--a
+silence broken at last by the lady in the diamonds, who has resumed
+her languid pose in the wicker-chair.
+
+"'Orrible people!" she observes, addressing the occupants of the porch
+generally. "Nice state o' things when you can't even be safe from 'em
+in yer own 'otel. You don't seem to be able to get away from these
+low-class people hanywhere--you don't reely!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Energetic Motor-Cyclist._ "WHY THE DEUCE DON'T YOU SIT
+STILL? YOU'LL HAVE US OVER IN A MINUTE."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+40-1920 A.D.
+
+ CALIGULA the man (quite mad, of course)
+ Conferred the consulship upon his horse.
+
+ Caligula the colt (a trifle saner)
+ Makes kings of jockey, purchaser and trainer.
+
+ Sanity counts; I raise my cup of massic
+ Not to the earlier but the later "classic."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=Journalistic Modesty.=
+
+ "I was his [Irving's] guest regularly at all Lyceum first nights for
+ a whole quarter of a century.... He delighted in the company of
+ third-rate people."
+
+_C.K.S. in "The Sphere."_
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _The Master._ "TCHA! THIS BACON TASTES SIMPLY BEASTLY."
+
+_The Mistress._ "GLADYS, WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THE BACON WE SET ASIDE
+FOR POISONING THE RATS?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FASHION AND PHYSIQUE.
+
+The heightened stature of women was a favourite topic in
+anthropometric circles long before the War. It seems, however, that
+they are not going to rest content with their present standard of
+altitude, but are invoking the resources of Art to render it even more
+conspicuous. We do not speak rashly or without book. _The Evening
+News_ announced on September 8th that "Women are to be taller this
+autumn." Nature may be in the Fall, but women are on the rise. The
+mode by which this effect of elongation--so dear to Art--is to be
+attained is described in detail by the Paris correspondent of our
+contemporary as follows:--
+
+"A fluffy and very high head-dress will be worn this autumn. The
+effect is obtained by the aid of pads, and adds some inches to a
+woman's stature.... Another type of coiffure is being adopted by some
+hairdressers, who leave the hair flat and smooth round the face, and
+only make a sort of bird's-nest of the ends, which stand well up so as
+to lengthen the profile in an upward direction."
+
+Nothing, however, is said about the relation of fashion to the
+physique of the sterner sex. To correct this omission Mr. Punch
+has interviewed a number of West-End tailors, hatters, hosiers and
+bootmakers. The results of this inquiry may be briefly summarised.
+
+Heads are to be larger this autumn, and to keep pace with the
+extraordinary development of brain amongst our insurgent youth, as
+evidenced by the correspondence in _The Morning Post_, it has been
+found necessary to make a radical change in the stock sizes of hats.
+But, where there has been no cranial distension, provision will be
+made to remedy the defect by the insertion of a cork sheath, by the
+aid of which a head of undersized circumference will be able to wear
+a No. 8 hat. Again, to meet the needs of customers in whom the
+temperature of the cranial region is habitually high, a hat has been
+devised with a vacuum lining for the insertion of cold water. The
+"Beverley" nickel-plated refrigerating helmet, as it is called, has
+already found a large sale amongst Balliol undergraduates.
+
+As a result of the revival of the "Apes _v._ Angels" controversy, in
+which Canon BARNES has taken so prominent a part, and Mr. BOTTOMLEY
+has declared himself as a whole-hearted supporter of DARWIN (_vide_
+his article in _The Sunday Pictorial_), hands will be supple and
+boneless this autumn, as in fashionable portraits. This reversion to
+the prehensile type of hand, so noticeable in the chimpanzee, has its
+drawbacks, and the rigidity necessary for certain manual functions,
+such as winding up a motor or opening a champagne bottle, will be
+furnished by gloves of a stiffer and stronger fabric, ranging from
+simulation leatherette to chain-mail.
+
+Owing to the continued over-crowding of trains, tubes and motor-buses,
+elbows will be more prominent and aggressive than ever, and tailors
+are building a type of coat calculated to relieve the strain on this
+useful joint by a system of progressive padding, soft inside but
+resembling a nutmeg-grater at the point of contact with the enemy.
+
+It only remains to be added that in consequence of the publication of
+the Jewish Protocol and other documents pointing to revolutionary and
+anarchical Semitic activities, noses will be worn straighter and _à la
+Grecque_, and for similar reasons feet will be shorter and with more
+uplift in the instep.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=A Hot Spell.=
+
+From a story for boys:--
+
+"The heat was so intense that we were perspiring from every paw."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: SNOWED UNDER.
+
+THE ST. BERNARD PUP (_to his Master_). "THIS SITUATION APPEALS TO MY
+HEREDITARY INSTINCTS. SHALL I COME TO THE RESCUE?"
+
+[Before leaving Switzerland Mr. LLOYD GEORGE purchased a St. Bernard
+pup.]]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Futurist to Brother Brush (after along country walk in
+search of a subject)._ "THIS IS RATHER JOLLY. WHAT A RELIEF IT IS TO
+GET AMONGST THE REAL JAGGED STUFF."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE OLD WOMAN'S HOUSE ROCK, SCILLY.
+
+ "Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I,
+ "'Tis a mighty queer place to be building a home
+ In the teeth of the gales and the wash of the foam,
+ With nothing in view but the sea and the sky;
+ It cannot be cheerful or healthy or dry.
+ Why don't you go inland and rent a snug house,
+ With fowls in the garden and blossoming boughs,
+ Old woman, old woman, old woman?" said I.
+
+ "A garden have I at my hand
+ Beneath the green swell,
+ With pathways of glimmering sand
+ And borders of shell.
+ There twinkle the star-fish and there
+ Red jellies unfold;
+ The weed-banners ripple and flare
+ All purple and gold.
+ And have I no poultry? Oh, come
+ When the Equinox lulls;
+ The air is a-flash and a-hum
+ With the tumult of gulls;
+ They whirl in a shimmering cloud
+ Sun-bright on the breeze;
+ They perch on my chimneys and crowd
+ To nest at my knees,
+ And set their dun chickens to rock on the motherly
+ Lap of the seas."
+
+ "Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I,
+ "It sounds very well, but it cannot be right;
+ This must be a desolate spot of a night,
+ With nothing to hear but the guillemot's cry,
+ The sob of the surf and the wind soughing by.
+ Go inland and get you a cat for your knee
+ And gather your gossips for scandal and tea,
+ Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I.
+
+ "No amber-eyed tabby may laze
+ And purr at my feet,
+ But here in the blue summer days
+ The seal-people meet.
+ They bask on my ledges and romp
+ In the swirl of the tides,
+ Old bulls in their whiskers and pomp
+ And sleek little brides.
+ Yet others come visiting me
+ Than grey seal or bird;
+ Men come in the night from the sea
+ And utter no word.
+ Wet weed clings to bosom and hair;
+ Their faces are drawn;
+ They crouch by the embers and stare
+ And go with the dawn
+ To sleep in my garden, the swell flowing over them
+ Like a green lawn."
+
+PATLANDER.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=Labour Leaders on the Links.=
+
+Under a photograph in a London evening paper runs the following
+legend:--
+
+ "Mr. John Hodge and another official of the Iron and Steel
+ Founders Union enjoy a game of golf after the Trade Union Congress
+ at Portsmouth adjourns for the day. Our picture shows Mr. John
+ Hodge Putting."
+
+Some idea of the forceful and unconventional methods of our Labour
+leaders may be gathered from the attitude of Mr. JOHN HODGE, whose
+club is raised well over his shoulder.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Prisoner._ "SORR, I OBJECT TO MR. CLANCY SERVIN' ON
+THE JURY."
+
+_Mr. Clancy._ "BEDAD, AN' FOR WHY, MICHAEL? I'M _FOR_ YEZ!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE TAXATION OF VIRTUE.
+
+"I shall wait," said Peter, "till they send me the final notice."
+
+"Being his wife," said Hilda to me, "I am in a position to know that
+he will not. In another week he will pay, saying that the thought of
+income-tax has affected his nerves and that he can bear it no longer.
+He wobbles like this for six weeks twice a year, and meanwhile his
+family starves."
+
+"Under our system of taxation," Peter retorted, "the innocent must
+suffer."
+
+"It falls alike on the just and the unjust," I interposed. "How else
+would you have it?"
+
+"Naturally I would have it fall on the unjust alone," he replied.
+
+"Why not on the just alone?" I asked, suddenly aware of the birth of
+an idea.
+
+"Of course you want exemption."
+
+"You miss my point. You grant that taxation is necessary?"
+
+"For the sake of argument," said Peter, "I grant that, with
+reservations."
+
+"Since then there must be taxes, why not have taxes that it would be a
+pleasure to pay? The current taxes are not a pleasure to pay."
+
+"I grant that," said Peter, "without reservations."
+
+"Now there is only one sort of tax that I can imagine anybody paying
+gladly, and that would be a tax on his virtues."
+
+"Still hankering after your own exemption," growled Peter.
+
+"Leave me out of account. Take, by preference, yourself. You have
+virtues and are proud of them."
+
+Hilda intervened, as I had anticipated. "The pride is admitted," said
+she, "but as for the assessment value of the virtues----"
+
+"Never mind that. You are proud of your virtues"--I turned to Peter
+again--"yet you are sometimes troubled, like the rest of us, by a fear
+that you may not really possess them after all. But the assessment
+of your virtues by the Board of Inland Revenue would prove their
+existence to yourself and to all the world."
+
+"Except his wife," said Hilda.
+
+"Her evidence would not be accepted. If you had paid taxation for the
+possession of a virtue, the receipt would be a guarantee that you did
+possess that particular virtue, and it would consequently be a source
+of profound moral satisfaction to you. You would pay with pleasure.
+Besides, it is a poor kind of virtue that will not abide a test. The
+tax would be a test. Suppose that five pounds was levied upon you for
+honesty. If you refused to pay how could you ever again claim to
+be honest? You would be marked as not valuing your honesty at five
+pounds. No, you would pay and pay readily."
+
+My words were addressed to Peter, but Hilda seemed the more
+interested. "It sounds well, but how would you raise the money?" she
+asked.
+
+"That would depend on the virtue," I replied. "The sobriety tax, for
+example, would be levied on anyone who had not for some years been
+convicted of drunkenness."
+
+"But how about the virtues that you don't get fined for not
+having--truthfulness, unselfishness, kindheartedness and all those?"
+
+"I admit that would be difficult. Can you suggest anything?" I asked
+Peter.
+
+"No," he answered. "I'm not encouraging your rotten idea anyhow."
+
+"Could the revenue officials feel people's bumps?" inquired Hilda
+reflectively.
+
+"I'm afraid," I said, "people wouldn't stand it. Fancy Peter----"
+
+"I've got it," said Hilda. "The revenue officials would attribute a
+virtue to the taxpayer, and if he wanted to escape taxation they would
+require him to prove to them that he lacked the virtue in question."
+
+"They would like doing that," muttered Peter.
+
+"You have found the solution," I said to Hilda. "If you impute to a
+person a virtue he does not possess he probably denies that he has it,
+but he is really flattered and his denial is not sincere. He would be
+willing to pay on it; he would rather pay than not."
+
+At this point Peter grew tired of refraining from comment. "I don't
+want you to suppose," he said, "that I am taking any interest in your
+fatuous scheme, but doesn't it occur to you that under your system it
+would be simply ruinous to have any virtues at all, and that the only
+people who would flourish would be those who had no virtues and were
+not ashamed of it?"
+
+"For one thing," I replied confidently, "the taxes would be graduated
+in the ordinary way in accordance with means. The slightest flicker of
+a conscience in Park Lane would be more heavily mulcted than the most
+blameless life in Bermondsey. But the main point is that under my
+system taxation would become the measure of a man's moral worth, and
+people who did not pay taxes would be simply out of it. All the
+plums would go the highly-taxed men. Their tax receipts would be
+certificates of character, and the more they earned the more the
+Treasury would be able to get out of them. So far from dodging
+taxation, people would scramble to pay it."
+
+"But how," asked Hilda, "would you make the tax receipt a trustworthy
+testimonial? Your rich man with one virtue would have a better receipt
+than your poor one with ten."
+
+"The virtues taxed would be shown on the receipt," I replied.
+"Besides, poor and virtuous men would, as I have suggested, get an
+abatement on their virtue taxes, and the amount of the abatement would
+be shown on the receipt. So it could easily be seen what proportion a
+man was paying on his wealth and what on his virtues."
+
+"Look here," said Peter, aroused at last, "do you convey that the
+tobacco duty would be paid by people who didn't smoke?"
+
+"It would amount to that," I answered, "assuming that abstention from
+tobacco were counted a virtue."
+
+"There may be something in it after all," said Peter.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Fisherman._ "THERE ARE PLENTY OF FISH, BUT YOU'VE GOT
+TO FISH DRY TO CATCH THEM."
+
+_American Friend._ "SAY, YOU MAKE ME REAL HOMESICK."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+NEW RHYMES FOR OLD CHILDREN.
+
+THE CHAMELEON.
+
+ The chameleon changes his colour;
+ He can look like a tree or a wall;
+ He is timid and shy and he hates to be seen,
+ So he simply sits down in the grass and goes green,
+ And pretends he is nothing at all.
+
+ I wish I could change my complexion
+ To purple or orange or red;
+ I wish I could look like the arm of a chair
+ So nobody ever would know I was there
+ When they wanted to put me to bed.
+
+ I wish I could be a chameleon
+ And look like a lily or rose;
+ I'd lie on the apples and peaches and pears,
+ But not on Aunt Margaret's yellowy chairs--
+ I should have to be careful of those.
+
+ The chameleon's life is confusing;
+ He is used to adventure and pain;
+ But if ever he sat on Aunt Maggie's cretonne
+ And found what a curious colour he'd gone,
+ I don't think he'd do it again.
+
+A.P.H.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THAT TEA INTERVAL.
+
+Before the last ball of 1920 is bowled and the last wicket in a
+first-class match falls (as will most probably happen at the Oval this
+very afternoon, September 15th), I should like to let the Gods of
+the Game know how I propose to spend the following winter in their
+interests, so that when the season of 1921 is with us the happiness of
+the cricket spectator may be even greater than it has been in the one
+now expiring.
+
+I am going to devote the time to invention. With every grain of
+intellect and ingenuity that I can scrape together I am going to
+devise a means of humanising the tea interval.
+
+Once upon a time I was so rash as to ridicule this interruption. I
+drew attention to the fact that the ancient heroes of the game had
+been able to dispense with it. ALFRED MYNN needed no Asiatic stimulant
+between lunch and the close of play. Even such whole-hearted moderns as
+HORNBY and SHREWSBURY and GRACE managed to do well without the support
+of Hyson or Bohea. For more than a century cricket and tea were
+strangers and cricket did not suffer. And so on. But the attacks were
+futile: the tea interval became an institution; and nothing now, one
+realises, can ever occur to separate the gallant fellows from their
+cups and saucers.
+
+That being accepted, the problem is how to make the interval at once
+less harmful to the match and more tolerable to the lover of cricket;
+and it is on this problem that I have been working and intend to work
+through the arid football months. What has to be done is (_a_) to get
+the interval abbreviated; and (_b_) to keep the players on the field.
+It is the length of it and the empty pitch that are so depressing
+to the spectator, and it is the return to the pavilion that is so
+detrimental to the rhythm of the game. Neither of the batsmen ever
+wants the interruption, and I have often noticed a reluctance in
+certain members of the fielding side. As for the watchers, they never
+fail to groan.
+
+Still, as I have said, it is now recognised that the craving for tea
+is as much a part of the present-day game as the six-ball over, and
+the time has passed for censuring it. But something can be done to
+regulate it; and I have based my efforts towards a solution on the
+argument that, if a cricketer is not called in from the game to read
+his telegram, but (as we have all seen so often) the telegram is
+taken out to him, surely the precious fluid that he so passionately
+desiderates can be taken out to him too. At present, therefore, all
+my thoughts are turned upon the construction of some kind of wheeled
+waggon, such as is in use at a well-known restaurant in the Strand, on
+which fifteen cups (two for the umpires) and an urn and sugar and milk
+can be conveyed, with the concomitant bread-and-butter, or shrimps or
+meringues, or whatever is eaten with the tea, on a lower shelf. This
+could be pushed on to the ground at 4.15 and pushed back again at
+4.20 without any serious injury to the match. That is my idea at the
+moment; but I am a poor mechanic and should be glad if some properly
+qualified person--someone with a HEATH ROBINSON mind--would take the
+work over.
+
+E.V.L.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+IN THE MOVEMENT.
+
+How I came to be able to understand the language of trees is a secret.
+But I do understand it. It is my peculiar privilege to overhear all
+kinds of whispered conversation--green speech in green shades--as I
+take my rest underneath the boughs on a country walk. Some day I shall
+set down fully the result of these leaves-droppings, but at the moment
+I want to tell only of what I heard some blackberry bushes saying last
+week.
+
+"From what I hear," said the first bush, "the cost of everything's
+going up by leaps and bounds."
+
+"How is that?" asked one of its neighbours.
+
+"It's due, I understand," the first bush replied, "partly to scarcity
+of labour and partly to profiteering."
+
+"I don't see why we shouldn't participate," said another bush. "Here
+we are, covered with fruit, and it's all just as free as ever it was.
+That's absurd, after a big war. The duty of a war is to make things
+dearer and remove freedom."
+
+"Of course," said the others.
+
+"'Your blackberries will cost you more'--that should be our motto,"
+said the first bush. "We must be up to date."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A few days later, after one of our infrequent post-bellum gleams of
+sunshine, I met the Lady of the White House and all her nice children
+returning from a day's blackberrying. They showed me their
+baskets with a proper pride, and I was suitably enthusiastic and
+complimentary.
+
+"But do look at our poor hands and arms and our torn frocks!" said the
+lady. "We've picked blackberries here year after year, but we've never
+been so badly scratched before. It's extraordinary. I can't account
+for it."
+
+I could, though.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE MOON-SELLER.
+
+ A man came by at night with moons to sell;
+ "Moons old and new," he cried;
+ I hurried when I heard him call for me;
+ He set his basket on the wall for me
+ That I might see inside
+ And watch the little moons curl up and hide.
+
+ Each one he touched rang softly like a bell;
+ He pointed out to me
+ Great harvest moons with russet light in them,
+ Pale moons to gleam where snows grow white in them,
+ Red moons for victory,
+ And steadfast moons for men in ships at sea.
+
+ The man who came with many moons to sell
+ Opened his basket wide;
+ Showed me the filmy crescent moons in it,
+ And the piled discs (like silver spoons) in it
+ That push and pull the tide,
+ And small sweet honey-moons to give a bride.
+
+ "This moon," he said, "you will remember well;
+ Its price is wealth untold;"
+ Took a camp-moon he vowed he stole for me
+ And softly wrapped to keep it whole for me.
+ I heaped his feet with gold;
+ He changed, and said the moon might not be sold.
+
+ Then I was angry that with moons to sell
+ He thought he had the right
+ To keep that one. Those who were lent to us
+ Had written the brief notes they sent to us
+ When it shone out at night.
+ I caught it to my heart and held it tight.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Twenty Students Require clean, respectable Board-Residence; would
+ not object to Share Bed."--_Provincial Paper._
+
+They should have lived in the days of Og, the King of Basan; his
+bedstead _was_ a bedstead.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Calcutta.
+
+ During the past few weeks several parties of Afghan merchants and
+ traders have settled up their affairs and come into India. In
+ order to avoid being questioned by British poets in the
+ Khyber, they have entered this country by way of the Sissobi
+ pass."--_Indian Paper._
+
+Some of our poets are notoriously curious, and we are hardly surprised
+to learn that the Afghans could not "abide their question."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A COCK-AND-BULL STORY.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE LANGUAGE DIFFICULTY.
+
+"The jolly part about an island where there are no towns and no
+railways," said Willoughby, "is that you have thrills of excitement as
+to where you will sleep next night or eat your next meal. Now when we
+land at Lochrie Bay to-morrow it will be nearly lunch-time; but shall
+we get lunch?"
+
+"I can answer that," replied MacFadden, whose grandfather was a
+Scotsman, and who was once in Edinburgh for a week; "the map shows
+it is only five miles to Waterfoot, and there's sure to be an hotel
+there. Those little Scots inns are all right."
+
+"Yes," chimed in Sylvia, "and very likely there'll be nothing to eat
+when we get there. I am thinking of you three men, of course," she
+added hastily; "we girls don't want much."
+
+"As for me," said Willoughby, looking at Sylvia, whom he has adored
+dumbly for years, "very little satisfies me. I'm like the fellow who
+said, 'a crust of bread, a bottle of wine and you.' You know the chap,
+MacFadden."
+
+"Isn't it wonderful how he remembers his OMAR?" remarked Mac
+enthusiastically.
+
+"I don't know much poetry," said Willoughby, whose tastes are sporting
+rather than literary, "but I always liked that bit."
+
+"But lunch," I interposed, "is the pressing question. There's sure to
+be an hotel at Waterfoot, as you say. Send a telegram there, asking
+for lunch for six. If there's no hotel, no reply and no lunch. If
+there is we get our reply and our lunch. Willoughby can wire, because
+he learned all about telegraphs in the army."
+
+Within two hours came the reply. I opened it.
+
+"Will supply luncheon for six, 1.15 to-day."
+
+"Can you remember what your wire said, Willoughby?" I asked mildly.
+
+"Rather. 'Can you provide luncheon for six at 1.15.--Willoughby.'"
+
+"Exactly. Can't you see, you silly ass, how you've muffed it? Read
+this." Willoughby read, while Sylvia and Molly looked over and
+giggled.
+
+"Hang it all! I suppose I ought to have said to-morrow," he sighed.
+"Here, Thompson, you and Hilda, as the married couple of the party,
+ought to deal with these beastly emergencies."
+
+"Not I," I replied. "You've got us in the muddle, now get us out. Wire
+and say it's for to-morrow."
+
+"And then," said my practical wife, "we shall get to-day's hot lunch
+cold to-morrow, and a rapacious Scotch-woman will charge us for it
+twice over."
+
+"I wish you would say 'Scots,' not 'Scotch,'" complained MacFadden.
+
+"Sorry, Kiltie," rejoined Hilda; "and perhaps one of you two will deal
+with the Scots woman."
+
+"Leave her to me and none of you interfere," answered MacFadden.
+"Willoughby is no good at a job that needs tact. He's not half as
+lovable as I am either. Is he, Molly? We'll send the wire at once.
+Come on."
+
+Next day the steamer dropped us into the ferry-boat off Lochrie Bay,
+and our bicycles, more frightened than hurt, but much shaken, were
+hurled in after us. After five miles on a primitive road we arrived at
+the hotel very late.
+
+MacFadden, assuring us that if we only kept quiet he would see us
+through in spite of any Scots innkeeper, led the way.
+
+The landlady, a dour woman, appeared.
+
+"Good morning, Madam," began Mac politely.
+
+"Will you be Mr. Willoughby?" she replied.
+
+"No," said Mac truthfully, assuming a puzzled expression.
+
+"Weel, then," resumed the lady, addressing Sylvia, who happened to be
+close behind, "will you be Mrs. Willoughby?"
+
+Molly sniggered; Sylvia reddened and answered hastily, "No, I won't!"
+at which Willoughby sighed audibly.
+
+"What I wanted to ask you was whether perhaps you could be so kind
+as to give us a bit of bread and cheese or something," said Mac
+ingratiatingly. "Of course one doesn't expect a proper lunch in these
+places without ordering it beforehand."
+
+"And those that order beforehand dinna come," she replied with some
+asperity. "A pairty of six ordered for yesterday then they telegraphs
+to say they mean to-day, and now they're no here and the time lang
+gone by. I thocht ye were the pairty at first."
+
+"What a shame!" murmured MacFadden sympathetically.
+
+"Ay, if they had turned up they should hae had their lunch, and paid
+for it too," said the good lady grimly. "Twa days they should hae paid
+for. But if ye like ye can eat their lunch for them; it's cauld but
+guid."
+
+So we ate heartily, paid reasonably and went away on good terms with
+ourselves and the lady.
+
+Walking up the steep hill from the hotel I was just behind Willoughby
+and Sylvia. He was pushing the two bicycles and explaining something
+elaborately.
+
+"Awfully sorry about that silly woman, Sylvia," he said, "but it's
+only their rotten way of talking English. You see, when she says,
+'_Will_ you be Mrs. Willoughby?' she really means, '_Are_ you?' It's
+not the same as when an Englishman says it. If I said, 'Will you be
+Mrs. Willoughby?' that would be different; it would mean--"
+
+"Yes," interrupted Sylvia rather breathlessly, "that, Tommy dear,
+would be plain English, to which I could give a plain answer. I should
+say--"
+
+We had reached the brow of the hill. I mounted my bicycle and hurried
+on.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Mistress._ "YOU SEEM TO HAVE BEEN IN A GOOD MANY
+SITUATIONS. HOW MANY MISTRESSES HAVE YOU HAD, ALL TOLD?"
+
+_Maid._ "FIFTEEN, ALL TOLD--AND ALL TOLD WHAT I THOUGHT OF 'EM."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "1,000 EGGS IN ONE WHISKER."
+
+ _Daily Paper._
+
+A much worse case than that of LEAR'S old man with a beard, who said
+it was just as he feared.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "For all we know, Helen of Troy's best friends might have said,
+ 'Helen has style and knows how to make the most of her good
+ points; but, honest, now, do you think she should have got the
+ apple?'"
+
+ _Evening Paper._
+
+Certainly not. That's why Paris gave it to Aphrodite.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _First Ancient (with morbid fear of growing deaf,
+breaking long silence)._ "THERE--IT'S COME AT LAST! YOU'VE BEEN
+TALKING ALL THIS TIME AND I AIN'T HEARD A SINGLE WORD."
+
+_Second Ancient._ "BAIN'T BIN TALKIN'--BIN CHEWIN'."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
+
+Really I think that _Rhoda Drake_ (MURRAY) must be the most
+preposterously startling story that I have read for this age. It makes
+you feel as if you had had a squib exploded under your chair at a
+temperance meeting. After beginning placidly about persons who live in
+South Kensington (and are so dull that the author has to fill up
+with minute descriptions of their drawing-rooms), somewhere towards
+three-quarters through its decorous course it plunges you head over
+ears into such tearing melodrama as is comparable only to Episode 42
+of "The Adventures of the Blinking Eye" at a provincial cinema. I
+am left asking myself in bewilderment whether Mr. C.H. DUDLEY
+WARD, D.S.O., M.C., can have been serious in the affair. As I say,
+practically all the early characters are of little or no account,
+including _Rhoda_ herself. Indeed, nobody looks like mattering at all,
+and the whole tale has, to be frank, taken on a somewhat soporific
+aspect, when lo! there enters a lady with a Russian name, no back to
+her gown and green face-powder. If I said of this paragon that she
+made the story bounce I should still do less than justice to her
+amazing personality. Really, she was a herald of revolution, whose
+remarkable method was to invite anyone important and obstructive to
+her house and make them discontented. It was the work of half-an-hour.
+Whether the process was hypnotic, or whether she actually put pepper
+in the ice-pudding, I could not clearly make out. But the dreadful
+fact remained that, let your patriotism be ever so firm, you had but
+to accept one of green-powder's little dinners and next morning you
+were as like as not to hurl a stone into 10, Downing Street. As for
+the end--! But no, I will stop short of it.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Frankly, what pleased me most about _Affinities_ (HODDER AND
+STOUGHTON) was its attractive get-up; pleasant, cherry-pie-coloured
+boards, swathed in a very daintily-drawn pictorial wrapper, the whole,
+as cataloguers say, forming an ideal birthday present for a young
+lady, especially one at all apt to discover, however harmlessly, the
+affinities that give these five tales their title. As for the stories
+themselves, really all that need be said is to congratulate Mrs. MARY
+ROBERTS RINEHART on the ingenuity with which she can tell what seems
+an obvious intrigue yet keep a surprise in reserve. I suppose it is
+because they come to us from America that certain of the episodes turn
+upon incidents in the Suffrage struggle, tale-fodder that our own
+militant novelists have long happily discarded. Of the others I think
+I myself would award the palm to one called "The Family Friend," a
+genially cynical little comedy of encouraged courtship, of which the
+end seems to be visible from the beginning, but isn't. Altogether,
+what I might call a Canute; in other words a book for the deck-chair,
+not too absorbing to endanger your shoes, however close you read it to
+the advancing wave.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I think I should best describe the characteristic quality of
+_Four Blind Mice_ (LANE) as geniality. The scene of it is
+Burmah--astonishing, when you consider the host of novels about the
+rest of India, that so few should employ this equally picturesque
+setting--and it is quickly apparent that what Mr. C.C. LOWIS doesn't
+know at first hand about Rangoon is not likely to be missed. The
+tale itself is a good-humoured little comedy of European and native
+intrigue, showing how one section of the populace strove as usual to
+ease the white man's burden by flirtation and gossip, and the other
+to get the best for themselves by unlimited roguery and chicane. The
+whole thing culminates in a trial scene which is at once a delightful
+entertainment and (I should suppose) a shrewdly observed study of the
+course of Anglo-Burmese justice. I think I would have chosen that Mr.
+LOWIS should base his fun on something a little less grim than the
+murder and mutilation of a European, or at least Eurasian, lady, even
+though the very slight part in the action played by _Mrs. Rodrigues_,
+when alive, could hardly be called sympathetic. Still we were all so
+good-humoured over her taking-off that for a long time I cherished
+a rather dream-like faith in her reappearance to prove that this
+attitude had been justified. Not that Mr. LOWIS has not every right to
+retort that he is writing comedy rather than farce; certainly he has
+made his four blind mice to run in highly diverting fashion, very
+entertaining to those of us who see how they run; and as they at
+least save their tails triumphantly it would perhaps be ungenerous to
+complain about one that doesn't.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Damsel._ "OH, PROFESSOR, CAN YOU PROVIDE ME WITH A
+LOVE-POTION? MY MOTHER SAYS IF I WED NOT SOON I MUST E'EN GO FORTH TO
+EARN MY LIVING."
+
+_Alchemist._ "THAT I CAN, MADAM, AND OF TWO KINDS. FIRST, THE
+SLOW-WORKING PURPLE SORT IS VERILY CHEAP, BUT DIFFICULT OF
+ADMINISTRATION; FOR IN WATER IT IS PLAINLY VISIBLE AND EASY OF
+DISCERNMENT IN TEA. WHEREAS MY PATENT POTION, BRINGING LOVE AT FIRST
+SIGHT, CLOSELY RESEMBLETH THE MUCH-DESIRED WHISKY. THIS SORT IS ONE
+GUINEA PER TOT."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_The Story of the Fourth Army in the Battles of the Hundred Days_
+(HODDER AND STOUGHTON) is printed on pages the size of a copy
+of _Punch_, and with its accompanying case of maps it costs
+eighteen-pence to go through the post. It boasts a hundred full-page
+photographs, also sketches, charts, maps, panoramas and diagrams _ad
+lib._, a foreword by General Lord RAWLINSON and ten appendices; so
+really it seems that the much-abused word "sumptuous" may for once
+be fairly applied. The author, Major-General Sir A. MONTGOMERY, who
+himself helped to "stage" the battles he writes about, has built up a
+record which is in some sense unique, for I think it is possible from
+this book to trace precisely where any unit of the Fourth Army was
+placed, and what doing, at any given hour during the whole of the
+victory march from Amiens to the Belgian frontier. Apart from anything
+else it is pleasant to have a book that deals only with the days of
+victory; but it must be admitted that, to gain a completeness of
+detail so entirely satisfactory to those most nearly concerned, the
+writer has had to sacrifice something of human interest, for many of
+his pages are little more than a bare chronicle of names and places.
+Undoubtedly his book should be read with great deliberation,
+constant reference to the maps and a lively recollection of personal
+experiences on the spot; but the civilian reader may still be content
+to skim the text and save himself for the photographs. These, mostly
+taken from the air and of exquisite technical quality, form an amazing
+series, in themselves worth the heavy price. And who minds heavy
+prices when the proceeds are pledged to the service of wounded
+officers?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Rather an anti-climax," I thought when I opened _The Happy Foreigner_
+(HEINEMANN) and found that it purported to tell the experiences of an
+English _chauffeuse_ in France after the Armistice; but I know now
+that, in any place where ENID BAGNOLD happened to be, there would not
+be any anti-climax about. In a style so daring and vivid that it
+could only have been born, I suppose, of fast driving, the authoress
+describes a romantic affair with a young French officer; but her real
+theme is the suffering of France bowed down under the intolerable
+burden of so many strangers, both enemies and friends. The rich and
+well-fed Americans who will not trouble to understand, the grotesque
+Chinamen and Annamites, the starving Russians liberated from the
+Germans, flash by, with the ruins of villages, the tangle of wire and
+litter of derelict guns; and even the romance, intensely felt though
+it is, must be fleeting, like the rest of the nightmare, because the
+Frenchman's eyes are set on the future and the rebuilding of his
+fortunes. This book is not "about the War," but all the same it is one
+of the best books about the War that I have read.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_From a Common Room Window_ (OWEN) will be a slight refreshment
+to those who are weary of realistic studies of schoolmasters and
+schoolboys. "ORBILIUS," during what I take to have been a long career
+as a teacher, has not allowed his sense of humour to wither within
+him. In a note to his slender volume of sketches he says, "School-life
+is largely a comedy. When a schoolmaster ceases to recognise this it
+is time for him to 'bundle and go.'" He has been in the main a keen
+and sympathetic observer, and though his remarks upon headmasters are
+a little severe--personally I should hate to be called "a meticulous
+pedagogue"--I do not think that a little criticism of these potentates
+will do them the smallest harm. In "The Castigator" "ORBILIUS" gives a
+laughable sketch. The inventor of a flogging machine is soundly beaten
+by his own instrument, and he would be a sombre man indeed who could
+read it without a desire to witness such a chastening performance.
+By no means the least merit of this book is that it contains no new
+theories about education.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+159, September 15, 1920, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON ***
+
+***** This file should be named 17654-8.txt or 17654-8.zip *****
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159,
+September 15, 1920, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159, September 15, 1920
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Owen Seaman
+
+Release Date: January 31, 2006 [EBook #17654]
+
+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. 159.</h2>
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>September 15th, 1920.</h2>
+<hr class="full" />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page201" id="page201"></a>[pg 201]</span>
+<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2>
+<p>
+Prohibition meetings in Scotland,
+says an official, have been attended by
+fifty thousand people. We should not
+have thought there were so many aliens
+in Scotland.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+At an Oldbury wedding the other day
+a brick was thrown at the bridegroom.
+There is no excuse for this sort of thing
+with confetti so cheap.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+One of the Pacific Islands, we read,
+is so small that the House of Commons
+could not be planted on it. A
+great pity.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+"Do hotel chefs use cookery-books?"
+asks a home journal. Our own opinion
+is that quite a large
+proportion of them cook
+by ear.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Fourteen thousand
+artificial teeth recently
+stolen from premises in
+East London have not
+been recovered. While
+not attempting to indicate
+the guilty party,
+we cannot refrain from
+pointing out that several
+Labour leaders have recently
+been showing a
+good many more teeth
+than they were thought
+entitled to possess.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+At the Trades Union
+Congress a protest was
+made against the Unemployment
+Insurance
+Act. This must not be
+confused with the
+miners' threat to strike.
+That is merely a method of ensuring
+unemployment.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+The arrangement by which a hundred-and-fifty
+amateur brass bands are to
+play at the Crystal Palace on September
+25th looks like an attempt to distract
+us from the miners' strike fixed
+for that day.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+A Ramsgate man charged with shooting
+a cat denied that he fired at it. The
+animal is said to have dashed at the
+bullet and impaled himself upon it.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+It has been agreed, says a news item,
+that milk shall be tenpence a quart
+this winter. Not by us.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+The War Office announces that Arabs
+in Southern Mesopotamia have captured
+a British armoured train. It should be
+pointed out to these Arab rebels that
+it is such behaviour as this that discourages
+the tourist spirit.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Upon reading that another lady had
+failed in her attempt to swim the
+Channel a Scotsman inquires whether
+the Cross-Channel steamer rates have
+been increased, like everything else.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+We are informed that at a football
+match recently played in the Rhondda
+Valley the referee won.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+General <span class="sc">Obregon</span>, says an unofficial
+message, has been elected President
+of Mexico. The startling report that
+he has decided to reverse the safe
+policy of his predecessors and recognise
+the United States requires corroboration.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Everybody should economise after a
+great war, says an American film producer.
+We always do our best after
+every great war.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+According to an official report only
+fifty policemen were bitten by dogs in
+London last week. The falling off is
+said to be due to the fact that it has
+been rather a good year for young and
+tender postmen.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Some highly-strung persons, says a
+medical writer, are even afraid of inanimate
+objects. This accounts for many
+nervous people being afraid of venturing
+too near a plumber.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+"I only want the potatoes in the
+allotment and not the earth," said a
+complainant at Deptford. It is evident
+that, if this man is a trade unionist, he
+is a raw amateur.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Doctors at Vicenza have threatened
+to strike. This means that people in
+that neighbourhood will have to die
+without medical assistance.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+"Chief Hailstorm," of the Texas
+Rangers, has arrived in London. His
+brother, Chief Rainstorm, has, of course,
+been with us most of the summer.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+Girls, declares a well-known City
+caterer, are acquiring bigger appetites.
+We somehow suspected that the demand
+for a return of the wasp waist
+had influential interests behind it.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+The wife of a miner in Warwickshire
+has recently presented her husband
+with three baby boys. We understand
+that Mr. <span class="sc">Smillie</span> is sorry to have missed
+three extra strike-votes
+which he would have
+obtained had the boys
+been born a little earlier.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+An extraordinary
+story reaches us from
+North London. It appears
+that during the
+building of a house a
+brick slipped unnoticed
+from a hod and fell into
+its correct position,
+with the result that the
+accountant employed
+by the bricklayers could
+not balance his books
+at the end of the day.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+<p>
+"As science measures
+time," declares an eminent
+geologist, "the
+Garden of Eden was a
+thing of yesterday."
+All we can say is,
+"Where was Councillor
+<span class="sc">Clark</span> yesterday?"</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+ <div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<a href="images/201.png"><img src="images/201-500.png" width="500" height="354" alt="You'll go back by the next train." /></a>
+ <p>
+<i>Special Correspondent.</i> "<span class="sc">When they released me they said that if I
+showed my face in Ireland again I should be shot.</span>"</p>
+<p>
+<i>Editor.</i> "<span class="sc">I'll let these Sinn Feiners see that I'm not to be intimidated.
+You'll go back by the next train.</span>"</p></div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4>"POLES OVER THE LINE."</h4>
+<p class="author">
+<i>Evening Paper.</i></p>
+<p>
+So <i>that</i> accounts for the weather.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"Whatever other defects may be alleged
+against the scarlet uniform, it certainly makes
+for two things&mdash;discipline and smartness&mdash;and
+these two are very important factors in discipline."</p></blockquote>
+<p class="author">
+<i>"Civil and Military Gazette," Lahore.</i></p>
+
+<p>
+Especially the former.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"During the night, she [Mrs. Hamilton, the
+Channel swimmer] said, 'I occasionally took
+hot drinks and ate cold roast chicken, the
+small bones of which I kept chewing, as it
+seemed to assist me....'</p>
+<p>
+A strict vegetarian, Mrs. Hamilton will
+sometimes swim five miles before dinner, and
+skips for a few minutes every day."</p></blockquote>
+<p class="author">
+<i>Scotch Paper.</i></p>
+
+<p>
+She should skip the chicken if she
+wants us to be excited about her strict
+vegetarianism.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page202" id="page202"></a>[pg 202]</span>
+
+<h3>DOGGEREL.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="sc">To the Prime Minister's St. Bernard Pup</span>.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Ere your native country figured as the home of winter sport,</p>
+<p>Paradise of spies and agents, and for kings a last resort;</p>
+<p>Ere the hospitable chamois lent his haunts to Bolsh and Hun</p>
+<p>Or the queue of rash toboggans took the curve of Cresta Run;</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Long before a locomotive climbed the Rigi, cog by cog,</p>
+<p>Fame had mentioned your forefathers&mdash;such a noble breed of dog,</p>
+<p>How they tracked the lonely traveller with their nimble, sleuthy snouts,</p>
+<p>Till beneath a billowy snowdrift they remarked his whereabouts.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>How they dug him out of cold-store like a Canterbury sheep,</p>
+<p>Took their tongues and kindly licked him where his nose had gone to sleep,</p>
+<p>Called attention to the cognac which they wore in little kegs</p>
+<p>And remobilised the stagnant circulation in his legs.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>How they lifted up their voices, baying like an iron bell,</p>
+<p>Till the monks of good St. Bernard heard the same and ran like hell&mdash;</p>
+<p>Ran and bore him to their hospice, where they put him into bed</p>
+<p>And applied a holy posset stiff enough to wake the dead.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Heir to this superb tradition, born to such a pride of race,</p>
+<p>From the doggy <i>flair</i> that tells you what a lineage you can trace</p>
+<p>You will draw, I trust, a solace for the strange and alien scene</p>
+<p>Where you undergo purgation in a stuffy quarantine.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Further, if a homesick feeling sets you itching in the scalp</p>
+<p>With a wave of poignant longing for the odour of an Alp,</p>
+<p>Let this thought (a thing of splendour) help to keep your pecker up&mdash;</p>
+<p>You have had a high promotion; you are now a Premier's pup!</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>You shall guard his sacred portals, you shall eat from off his plate,</p>
+<p>Mix with private secretaries, move behind the veil of State,</p>
+<p>And at Ministerial councils, as a special form of treat,</p>
+<p>You shall sniff at <span class="sc">Winston's</span> trousers, you shall fondle <span class="sc">Curzon's</span> feet.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>You may even serve your master as an expert, one who knows</p>
+<p>All the rules regarding salvage in the Great St. Bernard snows,</p>
+<p>Do him good by utilising your hereditary gift</p>
+<p>To retrieve his Coalition from a constant state of drift.</p></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i40">O.S.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h3>THE PRODIGIES.</h3>
+<p>
+We&mdash;Great-aunts Emily and Louisa&mdash;had in our innocence
+been telling a few old fairy stories at bedtime to those
+three precocities whom our hosts call their children.</p>
+<p>
+We knew that they talked Latin and Greek in their sleep
+and were too much for their parents in argument, but we
+thought that at least, at the story hour&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+We were stopped by Drusilla. "I don't think much of
+the moral of that one," she remarked. "It would seem to
+illustrate the Evil Consequences of Benevolence!"</p>
+<p>
+"But she came alive again," said Evadne, the youngest,
+in extenuation.</p>
+<p>
+"And the wolf was killed," we ventured in defence of
+our old story.</p>
+<p>
+"Still," persisted Drusilla, "you couldn't call it encouraging."</p>
+<p>
+"Then in the other case," went on Claude thoughtfully,
+"considering that she had been left in sole charge of the
+house and had no business to go out and leave it to the
+mercy of burglars, what moral are we to draw from the fact
+that she married a Prince and lived happily ever afterwards?"</p>
+<p>
+"Most of them have that sort of moral," said Drusilla.
+"And they are every one of them devoid of humour, except
+of the most obvious kind&mdash;no subtlety."</p>
+<p>
+"When <i>I</i> was your age," said poor Louisa gently, "I
+used to laugh very heartily over the adventures of <i>Tom
+Thumb</i>."</p>
+<p>
+Claude seemed touched. "There are some capital situations
+in certain of them," he conceded, "which might be
+quite effectively treated."</p>
+<p>
+"How?" we asked weakly.</p>
+<p>
+It was Drusilla, the most alarming of the children, who
+finally undertook to sketch us out an example.</p>
+<p>
+After a short meditation, "Something like this," she said.
+"The situation, of course, you have met with before, but as
+remodelled you might call it&mdash;</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+<h4>THE TRIUMPH OF VIRTUE;</h4>
+<h4><span class="sc">or,</span></h4>
+<h4><span class="sc">The Bad Fairy Foiled</span>.</h4>
+<p>
+A certain King and Queen had one daughter, to whose
+christening they invited a large company, forgetting as
+usual a particularly important and bad-tempered Fairy, who
+signified her annoyance in the usual manner.</p>
+<p>
+The attendants of the little Princess (having read their
+story-books) were preparing dolefully enough to fall asleep
+for a hundred years, when the Fairy, with a contemptuous
+sniff, remarked that the spell would not take effect for some
+time yet.</p>
+<p>
+They breathed again and had almost forgotten the affair
+by the time the Princess had grown up. But the Fairy had
+so arranged it that the spell fell upon the Princess at the
+time when she was engaged in making her choice of a
+husband from among the suitors who had arrived at her
+father's Court.</p>
+<p>
+The Princess was now bewitched in this way&mdash;that good
+men appeared bad, ugly men handsome, and <i>vice versâ</i>.
+The Fairy had hoped that she would thus make a mess of
+her matrimonial affairs and live unhappily ever after.</p>
+<p>
+But she had reckoned without the disposition of the
+Princess, a kind good girl with an overpowering sense of
+duty. When pressed to choose, she replied firmly, "I will
+have no other than Prince Felix."</p>
+<p>
+To her his ugliness seemed pathetic and his character
+evidently needed reformation so urgently that she longed
+to be at the job. No one wondered at her choice, for he
+was, of course, the most handsome and excellent of men.</p>
+<p>
+Ultimately the Fairy broke her spell in a fit of exasperation,
+but without any gratifying result. The Princess seemed
+happier than ever and would sometimes say to a slightly
+puzzled friend:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+"Hasn't Felix improved <i>wonderfully</i> since I married
+him?"</p>
+
+ <hr />
+<blockquote><p>
+"From 1910 to 1916 he was Viceroy in India, governing the
+Dependency through very critical years and enjoying general esteem,
+as was made clear in 1912, when an attempt was made to assassinate
+him at Delhi."&mdash;"<i>Daily Mail" on Lord Hardinge</i>.</p></blockquote>
+<p>
+It sounds like a <i>succès d'estime</i>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page203" id="page203"></a>[pg 203]</span>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;">
+<a href="images/203.png"><img src="images/203-360.png" width="360" height="450" alt="The Public Benefactor." /></a>
+
+<h4>THE PUBLIC BENEFACTOR.</h4>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">Mr. Smillie</span>. "I CAN'T BEAR TO THINK OF YOUR PAYING SO MUCH FOR YOUR COAL.
+I MUST PUT THAT RIGHT; I MUST SEE THAT YOU DON'T GET ANY."</p>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page204" id="page204"></a>[pg 204]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/204.png"><img src="images/204-600.png" width="600" height="405" alt="I wonder if that's true" /></a>
+
+<p><i>First Tramp</i>. "<span class="sc">In this bit o' noospaper it says: 'The 'ole cause of the world's present disorder is the universal
+spirit of unrest. I wonder if that's true</span>?"</p>
+<p>
+<i>Second Tramp</i>. "<span class="sc">I ain't noticed it</span>."</p></div>
+
+
+<h3>THE COAL CUP.</h3>
+<p>
+It seems to me that we all take a
+great deal of interest in the miners
+when they strike, but not nearly enough
+when they hew. And yet this business
+of hacking large lumps of fuel out of a
+hole, since civilisation really depends
+on it, ought to be represented to us
+from day to day as the beautiful and
+thrilling thing that it really is. Yet if we
+put aside for a moment Mr. <span class="sc">Smillie's</span>
+present demands, we find the main topics
+of discussion in the daily Press as I
+write are roughly these:&mdash;</p>
+
+<ul>
+<li>
+(1) The prospects of League Football
+and the Cup Ties.</li>
+<li>
+(2) Ireland.</li>
+<li>
+(3) The prevalence of deafness
+amongst blue-eyed cats.</li>
+<li>
+(4) Mesopotamia.</li>
+<li>
+(5) The Fall of Man.</li>
+<li>
+(6) The sale of <i>The Daily Mail</i>, whose
+circulation during the coming winter is
+for some reason or other supposed to
+be almost as important to the children
+of England as their own.</li>
+</ul>
+<p>
+Of all these topics the first is, of
+course, by far the most absorbing, and
+almost everyone has remarked how the
+love of sport, for which Britons are
+famous, is growing more passionate than
+ever. It is not only cricket and football,
+of course; only the other day
+there was a shilling sweepstake on the
+St. Leger in our office and, from what
+I hear of the form of Westmorland in
+the County Croquet Championship during
+the past season&mdash;but I have no
+time to discuss these things now.</p>
+<p>
+The point is that, whilst this excitement
+over games grows greater and
+greater, the country is suffering, say
+the economists, from under-production
+and the inflation of the wage-bill. This
+means that everyone is trying to do
+less work and get more money for it,
+a very natural ambition which nobody
+can blame the miners from sharing. I
+suppose that if they all stopped mining
+and we had to depend for warmth on
+wrapping ourselves up in moleskins,
+the molliers, or whatever they are called,
+would strike for a two-shillings rise as
+well.</p>
+<p>
+The worst of it is that under-production,
+say the economists again (there is
+no keeping anything from these smart
+lads), sends prices up. Obviously then
+there is only one thing to do: we must
+take advantage of the prevailing passion
+and make mining (and other industries
+too for that matter) a form of sport.
+The daily papers should find very little
+difficulty in doing this.</p>
+
+<h5>
+WHO HEWS HARDEST?<br />
+CLAIM BY A LANARKSHIRE COLLIER</h5>
+
+<p>
+would do very well for the headings of
+a preliminary article; and the claim of
+the Lanarkshire collier would, I am
+sure, be instantly challenged. After a
+few letters we might have a suggestion,
+say from Wales, that no team of eleven
+miners could hew so hard and so much
+as a Welsh one. And from that it
+would be only a short step to the formation
+of district league competitions
+and an international championship.
+Or the old-time system under which
+cricketers were matched for a stake by
+sporting patrons might be revived, and
+we should have headlines in the evening
+Press after this fashion:&mdash;</p>
+
+<h5>
+HUGE HEWING CONTEST.<br />
+NOTTS FOREST v. NEWCASTLE UNITED.<br />
+TREMENDOUS WAGER BETWEEN<br />
+THE DUKES OF PORTLAND AND<br />
+NORTHUMBERLAND</h5>
+
+<p>
+and all the glades of Sherwood and the
+banks where the wild Tyne flows would
+be glad.</p>
+<p>
+It will be objected, of course, that the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page205" id="page205"></a>[pg 205]</span>
+hewing of coal is not a spectacular
+affair. You cannot pack sixty thousand
+spectators into a mine to watch a hewing
+match, and even if you could the
+lighting is bad; but that is just where
+the skill of the reporters would come
+in. After all, we do not most of us see
+the races on which we bet, nor the Golf
+Championship, nor even <span class="sc">Beckett</span> and
+<span class="sc">Wells.</span> But there would be articles
+on the correct swing whilst hewing, and
+the proper stance, and how far the toes
+should be turned in; the chances of
+every team would be discussed; the
+current odds would be quoted, and, whoever
+won, the consumer would score,
+whilst the strongest hewers would become
+popular heroes and be photographed
+on the back-page standing
+beside their hews.</p>
+<p>
+I admit that the South of England
+and London in particular would have
+very little share in these competitions,
+and we should depend for local interest
+mainly upon the promising young colts
+from the Kentish nurseries. But we
+could find out from our dealers where
+our coals came from and follow from afar
+the fortunes of our adopted teams; and
+Cabinet Ministers, at any rate, could
+distribute their patronage and their
+presence with tact over the various
+areas involved.</p>
+
+<h5>
+MR. BALFOUR HEWS OFF AT<br />
+DURHAM</h5>
+
+<p>
+is another headline which seems to
+suggest itself, and I should strongly
+urge the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span>, who has returned,
+I hear, with a St. Bernard from
+the Alps, to lose no time in selecting a
+more appropriate playmate.</p>
+
+<h5>
+PREMIER AT TONYPANDY.<br />
+MR. LLOYD GEORGE PATS PET<br />
+PIT-PONY
+</h5>
+<p>
+is the kind of thing I mean, and very
+hard also to say six times quickly without
+making a mistake.</p>
+<p>
+Obviously the result of all this would
+be that not only would the miners be
+justified in asking for more money, but
+that the country would be able to afford
+it; and similar competitive leagues, to
+supersede trade unions, would soon be
+formed by other trades. One seems
+to hear faintly the loud plaudits of the
+onlookers as two crack teams of West-end
+road-menders step smartly into the
+arena....</p>
+<p class="author">
+<span class="sc">Evoe.</span></p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4>Our Bolshevik Colonies.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"Married Shepherd, used hilly country and
+all farm and station work, desires Situation;
+wife would cook one or two men."</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p class="author">
+ "<i>The Press," Christchurch, N.Z</i>.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"Miss &mdash;&mdash;, a soubrette, whose songs lean
+towards the voluptuous, sank 'Somebody's
+Baby.' Her encore number, 'You'd be Surprised,'
+was even more so."</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p class="author">
+ "<i>The Dominion," Wellington, N.Z</i>.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<a href="images/205.png"><img src="images/205-349.png" width="349" height="450" alt="Woodland Sprite (from Stepney, to eminent botanist)." /></a>
+
+<p><i>Woodland Sprite (from Stepney, to eminent botanist).</i> <span class="sc">"Please, Mister, Maggie
+wants to know what you charge for taking twins?"</span></p></div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h3>THE PASSING OF THE CRADLE.</h3>
+
+<blockquote class="note"><p>
+[According to a report which recently appeared
+in a daily paper, cradles for infants are
+becoming a thing of the past.]</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Snug retreat for mother's treasure,</p>
+ <p class="i2">Shall I pine as I repeat</p>
+<p>Rumour's strange report, which says you're</p>
+ <p class="i2">Virtually obsolete?</p>
+<p>Shall these lips a doleful lyric</p>
+ <p class="i2">Proffer at your ghostly bier,</p>
+<p>Or compose a panegyric</p>
+ <p class="i2">Moistened with a minstrel's tear?</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Me the theme leaves too unshaken,</p>
+ <p class="i2">Though "some" father more or less;</p>
+<p>Better 'twere if undertaken</p>
+ <p class="i2">By my wife (a poetess);</p>
+<p>And, if I be asked, Why vainly</p>
+ <p class="i2">Occupy, then, so much space?</p>
+<p>My concern, I'll say, is mainly</p>
+ <p class="i2">With the woman in the case.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>For, when she and you shall sever</p>
+ <p class="i2">(Though 'tis early yet to crow),</p>
+<p>Your departure may for ever</p>
+ <p class="i2">Lay her proudest triumph low;</p>
+<p>Yes, while men (I'm much afraid) 'll</p>
+ <p class="i2">Round her fingers still be twirled,</p>
+<p>If her hand can't rock a cradle</p>
+ <p class="i2">It may cease to boss the world.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4>Commercial Candour.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"Irate Householders, why be swindled in a
+clumsy manner? Fetch your second-hand
+clothing to me and be done in the most
+approved style."&mdash;<i>Daily Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4><span class="sc"><b>"More Literary Heredity.</b></span></h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+Fresh literary fame seems to be pending for
+the Maurice Hewlett family circle.</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Robin Richards, the son-in-law of the
+famous novelist, is about to appeal to fiction
+readers with his first novel."&mdash;<i>Daily Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>
+No more of the old-fashioned <span class="sc">Darwin</span>
+and <span class="sc">Galton</span> nonsense about fathers
+and children.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page206" id="page206"></a>[pg 206]</span>
+
+<h3>SEVEN WHITEBAIT.</h3>
+<p>
+Here and there in the drab routine
+of modern existence it is still possible to
+catch an occasional glimpse of romance
+and courageous living, and in the
+volume which lies before us as we
+write we are given a generous measure
+of peril and adventure in faery seas
+forlorn. <i>From Whitebait to Kipper:
+The Story of Seven Lives</i>, is the vivid
+record of a family of herrings, set down
+(posthumously, it would seem) with refreshing
+simplicity by Walter Herring,
+the youngest and perhaps the most brilliant
+of the family. The story begins
+with the early childhood of Walter,
+John, Isabel, Margaret, Rupert, Stéphanie
+and little Foch, the last of whom
+was so named because he was born on
+the anniversary of the Armistice. (As
+a matter of fact they were all born on
+the same day, but for some reason which
+is not explained only one of them was
+called Foch.)</p>
+<p>
+You, reader, are one of those ignorant
+people who do so much discredit to our
+Public Schools. You fondly think that
+the whitebait is a special kind of fish,
+that there are father whitebaits and
+mother whitebaits and baby whitebaits.
+You are wrong. There are only baby
+whitebaits. At least there are baby
+herrings and baby pilchards, and these
+are called whitebait because they are
+eaten by the mackerel and because
+they look white when they are swimming
+upside down.</p>
+<p>
+Anyhow Walter and John and Isabel
+and Margaret and Rupert and Stéphanie
+and little Foch began life as whitebait.
+They used to charge about the Cornish
+seas with whole platefuls of other whitebait,
+millions of them, and wherever they
+went they were pursued by thousands
+of mackerel, who wanted to eat them.
+One day John felt that the moment was
+very near when he would be eaten by
+a mackerel, and he was quite right.
+Isabel felt the same thing, but she was
+wrong. She jumped out of the water
+and was eaten by a sea-gull. When
+the fishermen saw Isabel leaping into
+the air they came out and caught the
+mackerel in a net. They also caught
+Margaret with a lot of other whitebait;
+and she was eaten by a barrister at
+"Claridge's."</p>
+<p>
+There were now four of the family
+who had not been eaten by anyone. It
+is extraordinary when you come to
+think of it that any herring ever contrives
+to reach maturity at all. What
+with the mackerel and the seagulls and
+the barristers, everybody seems to be
+against it. However, Walter, Rupert
+and Foch succeeded. Stéphanie just
+missed. Walter and Rupert and Foch
+had jolly soft roes, a fact which is
+recorded in a cynical little poem by the
+precocious Foch, believed to be the
+only literary work of a whitebait now
+extant. We have only space here to
+quote the opening couplet:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The herrings with the nice soft rows</p>
+<p>Are gentlemen; the rest are does.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p>
+The survivors of the family had now
+to choose a career. From the beginning
+it seems to have been recognised that
+Stéphanie at least would have to be content
+with a humbler sphere than her
+more gifted brothers. She had a hard
+roe and was rather looked down upon.
+But she was an independent little thing
+and her pride revolted at a life of subjection
+at home; so while still a girl she
+went off on her own and got mixed up
+with some pilchards who were just being
+caught in a net. Stéphanie was caught
+too and became a sardine. She was
+carefully oiled and put in a tin, and she
+was eaten at a picnic near Hampton
+Court. But there is every reason to
+suppose that she was eaten happy,
+since in those less exacting circles
+nobody seemed to mind about her hard
+roe, which had been a perpetual bugbear
+to her in the herring world.</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile the remaining three had
+decided on a career. They were determined
+to be fresh herrings. This is
+of course the highest ambition of all
+herrings, though sadly few succeed in
+attaining it. One herring in his time
+plays many parts (<span class="sc">Shakespeare</span>); he
+can seldom say with confidence what
+exactly he will be to-morrow; but he
+can be fairly certain that it won't be a
+fresh herring. Of our three survivors
+Rupert alone was to win the coveted
+distinction. He grew to be a fine boy
+and was eaten at Hammersmith, where
+his plump but delicate roe gave the
+greatest satisfaction. It was not eaten
+in the ordinary humdrum way, but was
+thickly spread on a piece of buttered
+toast, generously peppered, and <i>devoured</i>.
+And when his "wish" was placed on
+the kitchen-range, swelled rapidly and
+burst with a loud report, his cup of
+happiness was full.</p>
+<p>
+Little Foch, alas, failed to fulfil his
+youthful promise and became a common
+bloater. Worse than that, he was
+bloated too thoroughly and was almost
+impossible to eat. Even his lovely roe,
+the pride of his heart, became so salt
+that the Rector of Chitlings finally rejected
+it with ignominy, though not
+before he had consumed so much of it
+that he had to drink the whole of his
+sermon-water before he began to preach.</p>
+<p>
+But it was Walter, Walter the
+chronicler, Walter the clever, the
+daring, the ambitious, leader in every
+escapade, adviser in every difficulty,
+who was to suffer the crowning humiliation.
+Walter became a kipper. If
+there is one thing that a herring cannot
+stand it is to be separated from his roe.
+Walter's roe was ruthlessly torn from
+him and served up separate on toast,
+with nothing to show that it was the
+glorious roe of Walter. It was eaten
+at the Criterion by a stockbroker, and
+it might have been anybody's roe.
+Meanwhile the mutilated frame, the
+empty shell of Walter, was squashed
+flat in a wooden box with a mass of
+others and sold at an auction by the
+pound. It broke his heart.</p>
+<p class="author">
+A.P.H.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h3>FLOWERS' NAMES.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="sc">Lady's Slipper.</span></h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Country gossips, nodding slow</p>
+<p>When the fire is burning low,</p>
+<p>Or chatting round about the well</p>
+<p>On the green at Ashlins Dell,</p>
+<p>With many a timid backward glance</p>
+<p>And fingers crossed and eyes askance,</p>
+<p>Still tell about the Midmas Day</p>
+<p>When Marget Malherb went away.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"After Midmas Day shall break,</p>
+<p>Maidens, neither brew nor bake;</p>
+<p>See your house be sanded clean;</p>
+<p>Wear no stitch of fairy green;</p>
+<p>Go barefoot; wear nor hose nor shoon</p>
+<p>From rise of sun to rise of moon;</p>
+<p>For the Good People watch and wait</p>
+<p>Waiting early, watching late,</p>
+<p>For foolish maids who treat with scorn</p>
+<p>The mystic rites of Midmas Morn."</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Marget Malherb tossed her head,</p>
+<p>"I fear no fairies' charms," she said&mdash;</p>
+<p>For she'd new slippers she would wear</p>
+<p>To show her lad the pretty pair,</p>
+<p>Soft green leather, buckled red&mdash;</p>
+<p>"I fear no fairies' charms," she said.</p>
+<p>She drew them on and laughed in scorn,</p>
+<p>And out she danced on Midmas Morn.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Nevermore was Marget seen;</p>
+<p>But when her lover sought the green</p>
+<p>A Fairy Ring was all he found&mdash;</p>
+<p>A Fairy Ring on the weeping ground;</p>
+<p>And by the hedge a flower grew,</p>
+<p>Long and slender, filled with dew,</p>
+<p>Green and pointed, ribboned red;</p>
+<p>And still you'll find them as I've said.</p>
+<p>And Marget comes, so gossips say,</p>
+<p>To wear her shoes on Midmas Day.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4>The Gladiatorial Spirit.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"Crossbie would have done better to have
+shot himself, but he gave the ball to his
+partner."&mdash;<i>Provincial Paper</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+ <hr />
+
+
+<h4>"MILK PRICES UP.</h4>
+<h5>HIGHER CHARGE TO MEET THE COST OF PETROL."</h5>
+
+<p class="author">
+ <i>Daily Paper</i>.</p>
+<p>
+We always thought it was water that
+they used.</p>
+<br /><br />
+ <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page207" id="page207"></a>[pg 207]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;">
+<a href="images/207.png"><img src="images/207-360.png" width="360" height="450" alt="The Persuasive Power of Beauty in Art." /></a>
+
+<h4>THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF BEAUTY IN ART.</h4></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page208" id="page208"></a>[pg 208]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<a href="images/208.png"><img src="images/208-316.png" width="316" height="450" alt="'Ere, not so much of the ca-canny." /></a>
+
+<p>
+<i>Bored Spectator</i>. "<span class="sc">'Ere, not so much of the ca-canny.</span>"</p></div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h3>A DIFFERENCE OF CLASS.</h3>
+
+<p>
+It is without doubt the most expensive
+hotel on the front, and the palatial
+dining-room in which we have just
+lunched is furnished and decorated in
+that sumptuously luxurious style to
+which only wealth, untrammelled by art,
+is able to attain. Personally I cannot
+afford to take my meals at such places,
+and I know that the same holds good
+of my fellow-guest, Charteris. Charteris
+was the best scholar of our year at
+Oriel, and since his demobilisation he
+and his wife have been living in two
+rooms, except during the periods
+when their son joins them for
+his holidays from Winchester.
+But our host is still possessed
+of an obstinate wealth which
+even the War has done little to
+diminish, and, as he himself puts
+it, is really grateful to those of
+his old friends who will help
+him in public to support the
+ignominy.</p>
+<p>
+At the moment, having finished
+lunch, we have betaken ourselves
+to wicker-chairs in the porch,
+and Charteris and our host being
+deep in a golf discussion I venture
+once more to turn a covert
+attention to the exceedingly
+splendid couple who have just
+followed us out from the dining-room.
+I noticed them first on
+my arrival, when they were just
+getting out of their Rolls-Royce,
+and the admiration which I
+then conceived for them was
+even further enhanced during
+lunch by a near view of the
+lady's diamonds and of the
+Cinquevalli-like dexterity shown
+by her husband in balancing a
+full load of peas on the concave
+side of a fork. At present the
+man, somewhat flushed with
+champagne, is smoking an enormous
+cigar with a red-and-gold
+band round it, while the lady, her diamonds
+flashing in the sunshine, leans
+back in her chair and regards with
+supercilious eyes the holiday crowds
+that throng the pavement below.</p>
+<p>
+Following her glance my attention is
+suddenly arrested by the strange behaviour
+of two passers-by, who have
+stopped in the middle of the pavement
+and, after exchanging some excited comments,
+are staring fixedly towards us.
+From their appearance they would seem
+to be a typical husband and wife of the
+working-class on holiday, and it occurs
+to me that, given the clothes and the
+diamonds, they might well be occupying
+the wicker-chairs of the couple opposite.
+Evidently the sight of somebody
+or something in the hotel porch
+has excited them greatly, for they continue
+to stare up at us with a hostile
+concentration that renders them quite
+unconscious of the frantic efforts of
+the small child who accompanies them
+to tug them towards the beach. After
+a moment they exchange a few more
+quick words, and the man leaves his
+companion and makes his way towards
+us. Ascending the hotel steps with an
+air of great determination he comes to
+a halt before the couple opposite.</p>
+<p>
+"'Ere, I've bin lookin' for you," he
+begins accusingly.</p>
+<p>
+The Rolls-Royce owner takes the
+cigar from his mouth and gazes in astonishment
+at the accusing apparition
+before him.</p>
+<p>
+"A hour ago," pursues the newcomer
+relentlessly, "you was driving along
+the front here in the whackin' great car.
+It ain't no good denyin' it, 'cos I took
+the number."</p>
+<p>
+"What d'ye mean&mdash;denying it?" exclaims
+Rolls-Royce. "Who's denying
+anythink?"</p>
+<p>
+"It ain't no good tryin' to deny it,"
+retorts the other. "An' it ain't no good
+denyin' wot you did neether, 'cos I've
+got my missus 'ere to prove it."</p>
+<p>
+"What I did?" echoes the astonished
+man. "What did I do?"</p>
+<p>
+"Ran over my child's b'loon," states
+the accuser, fixing him with a pitiless
+eye. For the moment the object of
+this serious charge is too taken aback
+to be capable of speech.</p>
+<p>
+"'Ran over my child's b'loon,'" repeats
+the other inexorably. "Leastways
+your chauffer did. An' when we 'ollered
+out to yer to stop you just rushed on
+like a runaway railway-train."</p>
+<p>
+Rolls-Royce, conscious of the curious
+gaze of the entire company, pulls himself
+together and regards his accuser
+unfavourably.</p>
+<p>
+"First I've 'eard of it," he growls.
+"Where was the balloon anyway? In
+the road, I s'pose?"</p>
+<p>
+"Yes, it <i>was</i> in the road,"
+retorts the other defiantly,
+"where it's got every right to
+be. Road's there for the convenience
+of b'loon-fliers just as
+much as for motor-cars. More."</p>
+<p>
+"Look 'ere, that's enough of
+it," says the car-owner harshly.
+"If the balloon got run over
+it's yer own fault for letting it
+go in the road."</p>
+<p>
+"That's a nice way to talk,"
+suddenly comes in shrill tones
+from the woman below, who
+has edged her way to the foot
+of the steps. "We don't go
+buyin' balloons for you to run
+over in yer cars. We're respectable
+people, we are, an' we work
+for our livin'."</p>
+<p>
+"Drivin' about in a car like
+an express train, runnin' over
+other people's b'loons," corroborates
+her husband bitterly.
+"Wot country d'yer think yer
+in? Prussia?</p>
+<p>
+By this time a small crowd
+has gathered on the pavement
+and is gazing up at the protagonists
+with ghoulish interest.
+The lady in the diamonds, a
+prey to mingled indignation and
+alarm, has leant towards her
+spouse and is whispering to him
+urgently, but he shakes her off
+with an impatient movement.</p>
+<p>
+"Not on yer life," he snaps. "They
+won't get a cent out o' me."</p>
+<p>
+"Ho, won't we!" exclaims his accuser
+hotly. "We'll soon see about that.
+We're English people, we are&mdash;we
+don't allow people to go about destroyin'
+our b'loons."</p>
+<p>
+"No wonder they're so rich," cries
+the woman at the bottom of the steps
+in satirical tones. "That's the way
+to get rich, that is&mdash;destroyin' other
+people's prop'ty an' then refusin' to
+pay for it. Anybody could get rich
+that way."</p>
+<p>
+Reflections on the feasibility of this
+novel financial scheme are cut short by
+the appearance at the top of the steps
+of the hotel porter, who touches the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page209" id="page209"></a>[pg 209]</span>
+originator of the disturbance on the
+shoulder.</p>
+<p>
+"Come on, you're not allowed up
+'ere, you know," he observes.</p>
+<p>
+"Ho, ain't I?" retorts the man defiantly.
+"Is this Buckingham Pallis?"</p>
+<p>
+"You can't come up 'ere unless you've
+got business in the 'otel," states the
+porter unmoved.</p>
+<p>
+"So I 'ave got bisness 'ere," declares
+the other. "Bisness c'nected with my
+son's b'loon."</p>
+<p>
+"An' we don't leave 'ere till it's
+settled, neither," cries the lady on the
+pavement. "'Alf-a-crown that balloon
+cost, an' we don't budge from 'ere till
+we get it."</p>
+<p>
+This is altogether too much for the
+owner of the Rolls-Royce.</p>
+<p>
+"'Alf-a-crown?" he explodes and
+turns indignantly to the company.
+"'Alf-a-crown for a child's balloon, and
+<i>then</i> they go on strike."</p>
+<p>
+Derisive cheers and counter-cheers
+go up from the crowd below as the
+incensed balloon-owner bursts forth
+into an impassioned defence of his inalienable
+right as a free-born Briton to
+strike or to buy half-crown balloons as
+the spirit moves him. Simultaneously
+the lady in the diamonds rises and,
+producing a coin from her gold bag,
+holds it with a superb gesture at arm's
+length beneath his nose. For a moment
+or two he pays no attention to her,
+then takes the coin impatiently with
+the air of one brushing aside an irritating
+interruption and continues his
+harangue.</p>
+<p>
+"Come on," puts in the porter;
+"you've got yer 'alf-crown. S'pose
+you move on."</p>
+<p>
+"Got me 'alf-crown, 'ave I'?" he
+retorts. "Wot about my rights as a
+man? Does 'alf-a-crown buy them?"</p>
+<p>
+No one venturing to solve this social
+problem he turns slowly and, glaring
+over his shoulder at Rolls-Royce, descends
+the steps.</p>
+<p>
+"I'm an Englishman, I am," he concludes
+from the pavement. "No one
+can't close my mouth with 'alf-crowns."</p>
+<p>
+For a brief space he stands scowling
+up at the porch as though challenging
+all and sundry to perform this feat,
+then, taking his wife by the arm, moves
+off with her and the still insistent
+child towards the beach. The crowd
+on the pavement, regretfully convinced
+that the entertainment is at an end,
+disperses slowly. Rolls-Royce, seemingly
+unconscious of the interest of
+Charteris and our host, who are looking
+at him covertly as at some zoological
+specimen, relights his cigar and sits
+glowering across the road, and silence
+falls upon the scene&mdash;a silence broken
+at last by the lady in the diamonds,
+who has resumed her languid pose in
+the wicker-chair.</p>
+<p>
+"'Orrible people!" she observes, addressing
+the occupants of the porch
+generally. "Nice state o' things when
+you can't even be safe from 'em in yer
+own 'otel. You don't seem to be able
+to get away from these low-class people
+hanywhere&mdash;you don't reely!"</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/209.png"><img src="images/209-600.png" width="600" height="411" alt="Why the deuce don't you sit still? You'll have us over in a minute." /></a>
+
+<p><i>Energetic Motor-Cyclist.</i> "<span class="sc">Why the deuce don't you sit still? You'll have us over in a minute.</span>"</p>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4>40-1920 A.D.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="sc">Caligula</span> the man (quite mad, of course)</p>
+<p>Conferred the consulship upon his horse.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Caligula the colt (a trifle saner)</p>
+<p>Makes kings of jockey, purchaser and trainer.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Sanity counts; I raise my cup of massic</p>
+<p>Not to the earlier but the later "classic."</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4>Journalistic Modesty.</h4>
+<blockquote><p>
+"I was his [Irving's] guest regularly at all
+Lyceum first nights for a whole quarter of a
+century.... He delighted in the company
+of third-rate people."</p>
+<p class="author">
+<i>C.K.S. in "The Sphere."</i></p></blockquote>
+
+ <hr />
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page210" id="page210"></a>[pg 210]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px">
+<a href="images/210.png"><img src="images/210-600.png" width="600" height="395" alt="Gladys, what did you do with the bacon we set aside for poisoning the rats?" /></a>
+
+<p><i>The Master.</i> "<span class="sc">Tcha! This bacon tastes simply beastly.</span>"</p>
+<p>
+<i>The Mistress.</i> "<span class="sc">Gladys, what did you do with the bacon we set aside for poisoning the rats?</span>"</p>
+</div>
+ <hr />
+
+<h3>FASHION AND PHYSIQUE.</h3>
+<p>
+The heightened stature of women was
+a favourite topic in anthropometric
+circles long before the War. It seems,
+however, that they are not going to
+rest content with their present standard
+of altitude, but are invoking the resources
+of Art to render it even more
+conspicuous. We do not speak rashly
+or without book. <i>The Evening News</i>
+announced on September 8th that
+"Women are to be taller this autumn."
+Nature may be in the Fall, but women
+are on the rise. The mode by which
+this effect of elongation&mdash;so dear to
+Art&mdash;is to be attained is described in
+detail by the Paris correspondent of
+our contemporary as follows:&mdash;</p>
+<p>
+"A fluffy and very high head-dress
+will be worn this autumn. The effect is
+obtained by the aid of pads, and adds
+some inches to a woman's stature....
+Another type of coiffure is being adopted
+by some hairdressers, who leave the
+hair flat and smooth round the face,
+and only make a sort of bird's-nest of
+the ends, which stand well up so as to
+lengthen the profile in an upward
+direction."</p>
+<p>
+Nothing, however, is said about the
+relation of fashion to the physique of the
+sterner sex. To correct this omission
+Mr. Punch has interviewed a number
+of West-End tailors, hatters, hosiers
+and bootmakers. The results of this
+inquiry may be briefly summarised.</p>
+<p>
+Heads are to be larger this autumn,
+and to keep pace with the extraordinary
+development of brain amongst our insurgent
+youth, as evidenced by the
+correspondence in <i>The Morning Post</i>,
+it has been found necessary to make
+a radical change in the stock sizes of
+hats. But, where there has been no
+cranial distension, provision will be
+made to remedy the defect by the insertion
+of a cork sheath, by the aid of
+which a head of undersized circumference
+will be able to wear a No. 8
+hat. Again, to meet the needs of customers
+in whom the temperature of
+the cranial region is habitually high, a
+hat has been devised with a vacuum
+lining for the insertion of cold water.
+The "Beverley" nickel-plated refrigerating
+helmet, as it is called, has already
+found a large sale amongst Balliol
+undergraduates.</p>
+<p>
+As a result of the revival of the "Apes
+<i>v.</i> Angels" controversy, in which Canon
+<span class="sc">Barnes</span> has taken so prominent a part,
+and Mr. <span class="sc">Bottomley</span> has declared himself
+as a whole-hearted supporter of
+<span class="sc">Darwin</span> (<i>vide</i> his article in <i>The Sunday
+Pictorial</i>), hands will be supple and
+boneless this autumn, as in fashionable
+portraits. This reversion to the prehensile
+type of hand, so noticeable in
+the chimpanzee, has its drawbacks,
+and the rigidity necessary for certain
+manual functions, such as winding up
+a motor or opening a champagne bottle,
+will be furnished by gloves of a stiffer
+and stronger fabric, ranging from simulation
+leatherette to chain-mail.</p>
+<p>
+Owing to the continued over-crowding
+of trains, tubes and motor-buses,
+elbows will be more prominent and
+aggressive than ever, and tailors are
+building a type of coat calculated to
+relieve the strain on this useful joint
+by a system of progressive padding,
+soft inside but resembling a nutmeg-grater
+at the point of contact with the
+enemy.</p>
+<p>
+It only remains to be added that in
+consequence of the publication of the
+Jewish Protocol and other documents
+pointing to revolutionary and anarchical
+Semitic activities, noses will be worn
+straighter and <i>à la Grecque</i>, and for
+similar reasons feet will be shorter and
+with more uplift in the instep.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4>A Hot Spell.</h4>
+<p>
+From a story for boys:&mdash;</p>
+<blockquote><p>
+"The heat was so intense that we were
+perspiring from every paw."</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page211" id="page211"></a>[pg 211]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 385px">
+<a href="images/211.png"><img src="images/211-383.png" width="383" height="450" alt="Snowed Under" /></a>
+
+<h3>SNOWED UNDER.</h3>
+<p>
+<span class="sc">The St. Bernard Pup</span> (<i>to his Master</i>). "THIS SITUATION APPEALS TO MY HEREDITARY
+INSTINCTS. SHALL I COME TO THE RESCUE?"</p>
+
+<h5><span style="font-weight: normal;">[Before leaving Switzerland Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George</span> purchased a St. Bernard pup.]</span></h5>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page213" id="page213"></a>[pg 213]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/213.png"><img src="images/213-600.png" width="600" height="432" alt="This is rather jolly. What a relief it is to get amongst the real jagged stuff." /></a>
+
+<p><i>Futurist to Brother Brush (after along country walk in search
+of a subject).</i> <span class="sc">"This is rather jolly. What a relief it is to
+get amongst the real jagged stuff."</span></p></div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h3>THE OLD WOMAN'S HOUSE ROCK, SCILLY.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I,</p>
+ <p class="i2">"'Tis a mighty queer place to be building a home</p>
+ <p class="i2">In the teeth of the gales and the wash of the foam,</p>
+<p>With nothing in view but the sea and the sky;</p>
+<p>It cannot be cheerful or healthy or dry.</p>
+ <p class="i2">Why don't you go inland and rent a snug house,</p>
+ <p class="i2">With fowls in the garden and blossoming boughs,</p>
+<p>Old woman, old woman, old woman?" said I.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+ <p class="i2">"A garden have I at my hand</p>
+ <p class="i4">Beneath the green swell,</p>
+ <p class="i2">With pathways of glimmering sand</p>
+ <p class="i4">And borders of shell.</p>
+ <p class="i2">There twinkle the star-fish and there</p>
+ <p class="i4">Red jellies unfold;</p>
+ <p class="i2">The weed-banners ripple and flare</p>
+ <p class="i4">All purple and gold.</p>
+ <p class="i2">And have I no poultry? Oh, come</p>
+ <p class="i4">When the Equinox lulls;</p>
+ <p class="i2">The air is a-flash and a-hum</p>
+ <p class="i4">With the tumult of gulls;</p>
+ <p class="i2">They whirl in a shimmering cloud</p>
+ <p class="i4">Sun-bright on the breeze;</p>
+ <p class="i2">They perch on my chimneys and crowd</p>
+ <p class="i4">To nest at my knees,</p>
+<p>And set their dun chickens to rock on the motherly</p>
+ <p class="i4">Lap of the seas."</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I,</p>
+ <p class="i2">"It sounds very well, but it cannot be right;</p>
+ <p class="i2">This must be a desolate spot of a night,</p>
+<p>With nothing to hear but the guillemot's cry,</p>
+<p>The sob of the surf and the wind soughing by.</p>
+ <p class="i2">Go inland and get you a cat for your knee</p>
+ <p class="i2">And gather your gossips for scandal and tea,</p>
+<p>Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+ <p class="i2">"No amber-eyed tabby may laze</p>
+ <p class="i4">And purr at my feet,</p>
+ <p class="i2">But here in the blue summer days</p>
+ <p class="i4">The seal-people meet.</p>
+ <p class="i2">They bask on my ledges and romp</p>
+ <p class="i4">In the swirl of the tides,</p>
+ <p class="i2">Old bulls in their whiskers and pomp</p>
+ <p class="i4">And sleek little brides.</p>
+ <p class="i2">Yet others come visiting me</p>
+ <p class="i4">Than grey seal or bird;</p>
+ <p class="i2">Men come in the night from the sea</p>
+ <p class="i4">And utter no word.</p>
+ <p class="i2">Wet weed clings to bosom and hair;</p>
+ <p class="i4">Their faces are drawn;</p>
+ <p class="i2">They crouch by the embers and stare</p>
+ <p class="i4">And go with the dawn</p>
+<p>To sleep in my garden, the swell flowing over them</p>
+ <p class="i4">Like a green lawn."</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i16"><span class="sc">Patlander.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4>Labour Leaders on the Links.</h4>
+<p>
+Under a photograph in a London
+evening paper runs the following
+legend:&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"Mr. John Hodge and another official of the
+Iron and Steel Founders Union enjoy a game
+of golf after the Trade Union Congress at
+Portsmouth adjourns for the day. Our picture
+shows Mr. John Hodge Putting."</p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>
+Some idea of the forceful and unconventional
+methods of our Labour leaders
+may be gathered from the attitude of
+Mr. <span class="sc">John Hodge</span>, whose club is raised
+well over his shoulder.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page214" id="page214"></a>[pg 214]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<a href="images/214.png"><img src="images/214-500.png" width="500" height="365" alt="Sorr, I object to Mr. Clancy servin' on the jury." /></a>
+
+<p><i>Prisoner.</i> "<span class="sc">Sorr, I object to Mr. Clancy servin' on the jury.</span>"</p>
+<p>
+<i>Mr. Clancy.</i> "<span class="sc">Bedad, an' for why, Michael? I'm <i>for</i> yez!</span>"</p></div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h3>THE TAXATION OF VIRTUE.</h3>
+<p>
+"I shall wait," said Peter, "till they
+send me the final notice."</p>
+<p>
+"Being his wife," said Hilda to me,
+"I am in a position to know that he
+will not. In another week he will pay,
+saying that the thought of income-tax
+has affected his nerves and that he can
+bear it no longer. He wobbles like this
+for six weeks twice a year, and meanwhile
+his family starves."</p>
+<p>
+"Under our system of taxation," Peter
+retorted, "the innocent must suffer."</p>
+<p>
+"It falls alike on the just and the
+unjust," I interposed. "How else would
+you have it?"</p>
+<p>
+"Naturally I would have it fall on
+the unjust alone," he replied.</p>
+<p>
+"Why not on the just alone?" I
+asked, suddenly aware of the birth of
+an idea.</p>
+<p>
+"Of course you want exemption."</p>
+<p>
+"You miss my point. You grant that
+taxation is necessary?"</p>
+<p>
+"For the sake of argument," said
+Peter, "I grant that, with reservations."</p>
+<p>
+"Since then there must be taxes, why
+not have taxes that it would be a pleasure
+to pay? The current taxes are
+not a pleasure to pay."</p>
+<p>
+"I grant that," said Peter, "without
+reservations."</p>
+<p>
+"Now there is only one sort of tax
+that I can imagine anybody paying
+gladly, and that would be a tax on his
+virtues."</p>
+<p>
+"Still hankering after your own exemption,"
+growled Peter.</p>
+<p>
+"Leave me out of account. Take, by
+preference, yourself. You have virtues
+and are proud of them."</p>
+<p>
+Hilda intervened, as I had anticipated.
+"The pride is admitted," said she, "but
+as for the assessment value of the
+virtues&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+<p>
+"Never mind that. You are proud of
+your virtues"&mdash;I turned to Peter again&mdash;"yet
+you are sometimes troubled,
+like the rest of us, by a fear that you
+may not really possess them after all.
+But the assessment of your virtues by
+the Board of Inland Revenue would
+prove their existence to yourself and to
+all the world."</p>
+<p>
+"Except his wife," said Hilda.</p>
+<p>
+"Her evidence would not be accepted.
+If you had paid taxation for the possession
+of a virtue, the receipt would be
+a guarantee that you did possess that
+particular virtue, and it would consequently
+be a source of profound moral
+satisfaction to you. You would pay
+with pleasure. Besides, it is a poor
+kind of virtue that will not abide a
+test. The tax would be a test. Suppose
+that five pounds was levied upon
+you for honesty. If you refused to pay
+how could you ever again claim to be
+honest? You would be marked as not
+valuing your honesty at five pounds.
+No, you would pay and pay readily."</p>
+<p>
+My words were addressed to Peter,
+but Hilda seemed the more interested.
+"It sounds well, but how would you
+raise the money?" she asked.</p>
+<p>
+"That would depend on the virtue,"
+I replied. "The sobriety tax, for example,
+would be levied on anyone who
+had not for some years been convicted
+of drunkenness."</p>
+<p>
+"But how about the virtues that you
+don't get fined for not having&mdash;truthfulness,
+unselfishness, kindheartedness
+and all those?"</p>
+<p>
+"I admit that would be difficult.
+Can you suggest anything?" I asked
+Peter.</p>
+<p>
+"No," he answered. "I'm not encouraging
+your rotten idea anyhow."</p>
+<p>
+"Could the revenue officials feel people's
+bumps?" inquired Hilda reflectively.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page215" id="page215"></a>[pg 215]</span>
+<p>
+"I'm afraid," I said, "people wouldn't
+stand it. Fancy Peter&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+<p>
+"I've got it," said Hilda. "The
+revenue officials would attribute a virtue
+to the taxpayer, and if he wanted
+to escape taxation they would require
+him to prove to them that he lacked
+the virtue in question."</p>
+<p>
+"They would like doing that," muttered
+Peter.</p>
+<p>
+"You have found the solution," I
+said to Hilda. "If you impute to a
+person a virtue he does not possess he
+probably denies that he has it, but he
+is really flattered and his denial is not
+sincere. He would be willing to pay
+on it; he would rather pay than not."</p>
+<p>
+At this point Peter grew tired of refraining
+from comment. "I don't want
+you to suppose," he said, "that I am taking
+any interest in your fatuous scheme,
+but doesn't it occur to you that under
+your system it would be simply ruinous
+to have any virtues at all, and that the
+only people who would flourish would
+be those who had no virtues and were
+not ashamed of it?"</p>
+<p>
+"For one thing," I replied confidently,
+"the taxes would be graduated in the
+ordinary way in accordance with means.
+The slightest flicker of a conscience
+in Park Lane would be more heavily
+mulcted than the most blameless life in
+Bermondsey. But the main point is
+that under my system taxation would
+become the measure of a man's moral
+worth, and people who did not pay
+taxes would be simply out of it. All
+the plums would go the highly-taxed
+men. Their tax receipts would be certificates
+of character, and the more they
+earned the more the Treasury would be
+able to get out of them. So far from
+dodging taxation, people would scramble
+to pay it."</p>
+<p>
+"But how," asked Hilda, "would you
+make the tax receipt a trustworthy
+testimonial? Your rich man with one
+virtue would have a better receipt than
+your poor one with ten."</p>
+<p>
+"The virtues taxed would be shown
+on the receipt," I replied. "Besides,
+poor and virtuous men would, as I have
+suggested, get an abatement on their
+virtue taxes, and the amount of the
+abatement would be shown on the receipt.
+So it could easily be seen what
+proportion a man was paying on his
+wealth and what on his virtues."</p>
+<p>
+"Look here," said Peter, aroused at
+last, "do you convey that the tobacco
+duty would be paid by people who
+didn't smoke?"</p>
+<p>
+"It would amount to that," I answered,
+"assuming that abstention from
+tobacco were counted a virtue."</p>
+<p>
+"There may be something in it after
+all," said Peter.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/215.png"><img src="images/215-600.png" width="600" height="402" alt="There are plenty of fish, but you've got to fish dry to catch them." /></a>
+
+<p><i>Fisherman.</i> "<span class="sc">There are plenty of fish, but you've got
+to fish dry to catch them.</span>"</p>
+<p>
+<i>American Friend.</i> "<span class="sc">Say, you make me real homesick.</span>"</p></div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h3>NEW RHYMES FOR OLD CHILDREN.</h3>
+
+<h3><span class="sc">The Chameleon.</span></h3>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+ <p class="i2">The chameleon changes his colour;</p>
+ <p class="i4">He can look like a tree or a wall;</p>
+<p>He is timid and shy and he hates to be seen,</p>
+<p>So he simply sits down in the grass and goes green,</p>
+ <p class="i4">And pretends he is nothing at all.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+ <p class="i2">I wish I could change my complexion</p>
+ <p class="i4">To purple or orange or red;</p>
+<p>I wish I could look like the arm of a chair</p>
+<p>So nobody ever would know I was there</p>
+ <p class="i4">When they wanted to put me to bed.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+ <p class="i2">I wish I could be a chameleon</p>
+ <p class="i4">And look like a lily or rose;</p>
+<p>I'd lie on the apples and peaches and pears,</p>
+<p>But not on Aunt Margaret's yellowy chairs&mdash;</p>
+ <p class="i4">I should have to be careful of those.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+ <p class="i2">The chameleon's life is confusing;</p>
+ <p class="i4">He is used to adventure and pain;</p>
+<p>But if ever he sat on Aunt Maggie's cretonne</p>
+<p>And found what a curious colour he'd gone,</p>
+ <p class="i4">I don't think he'd do it again.</p>
+</div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i24">
+A.P.H.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page216" id="page216"></a>[pg 216]</span>
+
+
+<h3>THAT TEA INTERVAL.</h3>
+
+<p>
+Before the last ball of 1920 is bowled and the last wicket
+in a first-class match falls (as will most probably happen at
+the Oval this very afternoon, September 15th), I should like
+to let the Gods of the Game know how I propose to spend
+the following winter in their interests, so that when the
+season of 1921 is with us the happiness of the cricket
+spectator may be even greater than it has been in the one
+now expiring.</p>
+<p>
+I am going to devote the time to invention. With every
+grain of intellect and ingenuity that I can scrape together
+I am going to devise a means of humanising the tea
+interval.</p>
+<p>
+Once upon a time I was so rash as to ridicule this interruption.
+I drew attention to the fact that the ancient
+heroes of the game had been able to dispense with it.
+<span class="sc">Alfred Mynn</span> needed no Asiatic stimulant between lunch
+and the close of play. Even such wholehearted moderns
+as <span class="sc">Hornby</span> and <span class="sc">Shrewsbury</span> and <span class="sc">Grace</span> managed to do
+well without the support of Hyson or Bohea. For more
+than a century cricket and tea were strangers and cricket
+did not suffer. And so on. But the attacks were futile: the
+tea interval became an institution; and nothing now, one
+realises, can ever occur to separate the gallant fellows from
+their cups and saucers.</p>
+<p>
+That being accepted, the problem is how to make the
+interval at once less harmful to the match and more tolerable
+to the lover of cricket; and it is on this problem that I have
+been working and intend to work through the arid football
+months. What has to be done is (<i>a</i>) to get the interval
+abbreviated; and (<i>b</i>) to keep the players on the field. It is
+the length of it and the empty pitch that are so depressing
+to the spectator, and it is the return to the pavilion that is
+so detrimental to the rhythm of the game. Neither of the
+batsmen ever wants the interruption, and I have often
+noticed a reluctance in certain members of the fielding side.
+As for the watchers, they never fail to groan.</p>
+<p>
+Still, as I have said, it is now recognised that the craving
+for tea is as much a part of the present-day game as the
+six-ball over, and the time has passed for censuring it.
+But something can be done to regulate it; and I have based
+my efforts towards a solution on the argument that, if a
+cricketer is not called in from the game to read his telegram,
+but (as we have all seen so often) the telegram is
+taken out to him, surely the precious fluid that he so passionately
+desiderates can be taken out to him too. At present,
+therefore, all my thoughts are turned upon the construction
+of some kind of wheeled waggon, such as is in
+use at a well-known restaurant in the Strand, on which
+fifteen cups (two for the umpires) and an urn and sugar and
+milk can be conveyed, with the concomitant bread-and-butter,
+or shrimps or meringues, or whatever is eaten with
+the tea, on a lower shelf. This could be pushed on to the
+ground at 4.15 and pushed back again at 4.20 without any
+serious injury to the match. That is my idea at the
+moment; but I am a poor mechanic and should be glad
+if some properly qualified person&mdash;someone with a <span class="sc">Heath
+Robinson</span> mind&mdash;would take the work over.</p>
+<p class="author">
+E.V.L.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+
+<h4>IN THE MOVEMENT.</h4>
+
+<p>
+How I came to be able to understand the language of
+trees is a secret. But I do understand it. It is my
+peculiar privilege to overhear all kinds of whispered conversation&mdash;green
+speech in green shades&mdash;as I take my
+rest underneath the boughs on a country walk. Some day
+I shall set down fully the result of these leaves-droppings,
+but at the moment I want to tell only of what I heard some
+blackberry bushes saying last week.</p>
+<p>
+"From what I hear," said the first bush, "the cost of
+everything's going up by leaps and bounds."</p>
+<p>
+"How is that?" asked one of its neighbours.</p>
+<p>
+"It's due, I understand," the first bush replied, "partly
+to scarcity of labour and partly to profiteering."</p>
+<p>
+"I don't see why we shouldn't participate," said another
+bush. "Here we are, covered with fruit, and it's all just as
+free as ever it was. That's absurd, after a big war. The
+duty of a war is to make things dearer and remove freedom."</p>
+<p>
+"Of course," said the others.</p>
+<p>
+"'Your blackberries will cost you more'&mdash;that should be
+our motto," said the first bush. "We must be up to date."</p>
+
+ <hr class="short" />
+<p>
+A few days later, after one of our infrequent post-bellum
+gleams of sunshine, I met the Lady of the White House
+and all her nice children returning from a day's blackberrying.
+They showed me their baskets with a proper
+pride, and I was suitably enthusiastic and complimentary.</p>
+<p>
+"But do look at our poor hands and arms and our torn
+frocks!" said the lady. "We've picked blackberries here
+year after year, but we've never been so badly scratched
+before. It's extraordinary. I can't account for it."</p>
+<p>
+I could, though.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+
+<h3>THE MOON-SELLER.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>A man came by at night with moons to sell;</p>
+ <p class="i2">"Moons old and new," he cried;</p>
+<p>I hurried when I heard him call for me;</p>
+<p>He set his basket on the wall for me</p>
+ <p class="i2">That I might see inside</p>
+<p>And watch the little moons curl up and hide.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Each one he touched rang softly like a bell;</p>
+ <p class="i2">He pointed out to me</p>
+<p>Great harvest moons with russet light in them,</p>
+<p>Pale moons to gleam where snows grow white in them,</p>
+ <p class="i2">Red moons for victory,</p>
+<p>And steadfast moons for men in ships at sea.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The man who came with many moons to sell</p>
+ <p class="i2">Opened his basket wide;</p>
+<p>Showed me the filmy crescent moons in it,</p>
+<p>And the piled discs (like silver spoons) in it</p>
+ <p class="i2">That push and pull the tide,</p>
+<p>And small sweet honey-moons to give a bride.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"This moon," he said, "you will remember well;</p>
+ <p class="i2">Its price is wealth untold;"</p>
+<p>Took a camp-moon he vowed he stole for me</p>
+<p>And softly wrapped to keep it whole for me.</p>
+ <p class="i2">I heaped his feet with gold;</p>
+<p>He changed, and said the moon might not be sold.</p></div>
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Then I was angry that with moons to sell</p>
+ <p class="i2">He thought he had the right</p>
+<p>To keep that one. Those who were lent to us</p>
+<p>Had written the brief notes they sent to us</p>
+ <p class="i2">When it shone out at night.</p>
+<p>I caught it to my heart and held it tight.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"Twenty Students Require clean, respectable Board-Residence;
+would not object to Share Bed."&mdash;<i>Provincial Paper.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>
+They should have lived in the days of Og, the King of
+Basan; his bedstead <i>was</i> a bedstead.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="author">"<span class="sc">Calcutta.</span></p>
+<p>
+During the past few weeks several parties of Afghan merchants and
+traders have settled up their affairs and come into India. In order to
+avoid being questioned by British poets in the Khyber, they have
+entered this country by way of the Sissobi pass."&mdash;<i>Indian Paper.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>
+Some of our poets are notoriously curious, and we are
+hardly surprised to learn that the Afghans could not "abide
+their question."</p>
+
+ <hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page217" id="page217"></a>[pg 217]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 345px">
+<a href="images/217.png"><img src="images/217-342.png" width="342" height="450" alt="A Cock-and-Bull Story" /></a>
+<h3>A COCK-AND-BULL STORY.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page218" id="page218"></a>[pg 218]</span>
+
+
+<h3>THE LANGUAGE DIFFICULTY.</h3>
+<p>
+"The jolly part about an island
+where there are no towns and no railways,"
+said Willoughby, "is that you
+have thrills of excitement as to where
+you will sleep next night or eat your
+next meal. Now when we land at
+Lochrie Bay to-morrow it will be nearly
+lunch-time; but shall we get lunch?"</p>
+<p>
+"I can answer that," replied MacFadden,
+whose grandfather was a Scotsman,
+and who was once in Edinburgh
+for a week; "the map shows it is only
+five miles to Waterfoot, and there's
+sure to be an hotel there. Those little
+Scots inns are all right."</p>
+<p>
+"Yes," chimed in Sylvia, "and very
+likely there'll be nothing to eat when
+we get there. I am thinking
+of you three men, of
+course," she added hastily;
+"we girls don't want
+much."</p>
+<p>
+"As for me," said Willoughby,
+looking at Sylvia,
+whom he has adored
+dumbly for years, "very
+little satisfies me. I'm
+like the fellow who said, 'a
+crust of bread, a bottle of
+wine and you.' You know
+the chap, MacFadden."</p>
+<p>
+"Isn't it wonderful how
+he remembers his <span class="sc">Omar</span>?"
+remarked Mac enthusiastically.</p>
+<p>
+"I don't know much
+poetry," said Willoughby,
+whose tastes are sporting
+rather than literary, "but
+I always liked that bit."</p>
+<p>
+"But lunch," I interposed,
+"is the pressing
+question. There's sure to
+be an hotel at Waterfoot,
+as you say. Send a telegram there,
+asking for lunch for six. If there's no
+hotel, no reply and no lunch. If there
+is we get our reply and our lunch.
+Willoughby can wire, because he learned
+all about telegraphs in the army."</p>
+<p>
+Within two hours came the reply. I
+opened it.</p>
+<p>
+"Will supply luncheon for six, 1.15
+to-day."</p>
+<p>
+"Can you remember what your wire
+said, Willoughby?" I asked mildly.</p>
+<p>
+"Rather. 'Can you provide luncheon
+for six at 1.15.&mdash;Willoughby.'"</p>
+<p>
+"Exactly. Can't you see, you silly
+ass, how you've muffed it? Read this."
+Willoughby read, while Sylvia and
+Molly looked over and giggled.</p>
+<p>
+"Hang it all! I suppose I ought to
+have said to-morrow," he sighed. "Here,
+Thompson, you and Hilda, as the married
+couple of the party, ought to deal
+with these beastly emergencies."</p>
+<p>
+"Not I," I replied. "You've got us
+in the muddle, now get us out. Wire
+and say it's for to-morrow."</p>
+<p>
+"And then," said my practical wife,
+"we shall get to-day's hot lunch cold
+to-morrow, and a rapacious Scotch-woman
+will charge us for it twice
+over."</p>
+<p>
+"I wish you would say 'Scots,' not
+'Scotch,'" complained MacFadden.</p>
+<p>
+"Sorry, Kiltie," rejoined Hilda; "and
+perhaps one of you two will deal with
+the Scots woman."</p>
+<p>
+"Leave her to me and none of you
+interfere," answered MacFadden. "Willoughby
+is no good at a job that needs
+tact. He's not half as lovable as I am
+either. Is he, Molly? We'll send the
+wire at once. Come on."</p>
+<p>
+Next day the steamer dropped us
+into the ferry-boat off Lochrie Bay, and
+our bicycles, more frightened than hurt,
+but much shaken, were hurled in after
+us. After five miles on a primitive
+road we arrived at the hotel very late.</p>
+<p>
+MacFadden, assuring us that if we
+only kept quiet he would see us through
+in spite of any Scots innkeeper, led the
+way.</p>
+<p>
+The landlady, a dour woman, appeared.</p>
+<p>
+"Good morning, Madam," began Mac
+politely.</p>
+<p>
+"Will you be Mr. Willoughby?" she
+replied.</p>
+<p>
+"No," said Mac truthfully, assuming
+a puzzled expression.</p>
+<p>
+"Weel, then," resumed the lady, addressing
+Sylvia, who happened to be
+close behind, "will you be Mrs. Willoughby?"</p>
+<p>
+Molly sniggered; Sylvia reddened
+and answered hastily, "No, I won't!"
+at which Willoughby sighed audibly.</p>
+<p>
+"What I wanted to ask you was
+whether perhaps you could be so kind
+as to give us a bit of bread and cheese
+or something," said Mac ingratiatingly.
+"Of course one doesn't expect a proper
+lunch in these places without ordering
+it beforehand."</p>
+<p>
+"And those that order beforehand
+dinna come," she replied with some asperity.
+"A pairty of six ordered for yesterday
+then they telegraphs to say
+they mean to-day, and now they're no
+here and the time lang gone by. I
+thocht ye were the pairty at first."</p>
+<p>
+"What a shame!" murmured MacFadden
+sympathetically.</p>
+<p>
+"Ay, if they had turned up they should
+hae had their lunch, and
+paid for it too," said the
+good lady grimly. "Twa
+days they should hae paid
+for. But if ye like ye can
+eat their lunch for them;
+it's cauld but guid."</p>
+<p>
+So we ate heartily, paid
+reasonably and went away
+on good terms with ourselves
+and the lady.</p>
+<p>
+Walking up the steep
+hill from the hotel I was
+just behind Willoughby
+and Sylvia. He was pushing
+the two bicycles and
+explaining something elaborately.</p>
+<p>
+"Awfully sorry about
+that silly woman, Sylvia,"
+he said, "but it's only their
+rotten way of talking English.
+You see, when she
+says, '<i>Will</i> you be Mrs.
+Willoughby?' she really
+means, '<i>Are</i> you?' It's
+not the same as when an
+Englishman says it. If I said, 'Will
+you be Mrs. Willoughby?' that would
+be different; it would mean&mdash;"</p>
+<p>
+"Yes," interrupted Sylvia rather
+breathlessly, "that, Tommy dear, would
+be plain English, to which I could give
+a plain answer. I should say&mdash;"</p>
+<p>
+We had reached the brow of the hill.
+I mounted my bicycle and hurried on.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<a href="images/218.png"><img src="images/218-550.png" width="550" height="450" alt="Fifteen, all told, and all told what I thought of 'em." /></a>
+
+<p><i>Mistress.</i> <span class="sc">"You seem to have been in a good many situations.
+How many mistresses have you had, all told?"</span></p>
+<p>
+<i>Maid.</i> <span class="sc">"Fifteen, all told&mdash;and all told what I thought of 'em."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h4>"1,000 EGGS IN ONE WHISKER."</h4>
+<blockquote>
+<p class="author">
+<i>Daily Paper.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p>
+A much worse case than that of <span class="sc">Lear's</span>
+old man with a beard, who said it was
+just as he feared.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>
+"For all we know, Helen of Troy's best
+friends might have said, 'Helen has style and
+knows how to make the most of her good
+points; but, honest, now, do you think she
+should have got the apple?'"</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+<i>Evening Paper.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+<p>
+Certainly not. That's why Paris gave
+it to Aphrodite.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page219" id="page219"></a>[pg 219]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<a href="images/219.png"><img src="images/219-600.png" width="600" height="449" alt="Bain't bin talkin', bin chewin'." /></a>
+
+<p><i>First Ancient (with morbid fear of growing deaf, breaking long silence).</i>
+<span class="sc">"There&mdash;it's come at last! You've been talking
+all this time and I ain't heard a single word."</span></p>
+<p>
+<i>Second Ancient.</i> <span class="sc">"Bain't bin talkin'&mdash;bin chewin'."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<h3>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h3>
+
+<h4><span style="font-weight: normal;">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</span></h4>
+<p>
+Really I think that <i>Rhoda Drake</i> (<span class="sc">Murray</span>) must be the
+most preposterously startling story that I have read for
+this age. It makes you feel as if you had had a squib
+exploded under your chair at a temperance meeting. After
+beginning placidly about persons who live in South Kensington
+(and are so dull that the author has to fill up with
+minute descriptions of their drawing-rooms), somewhere
+towards three-quarters through its decorous course it
+plunges you head over ears into such tearing melodrama
+as is comparable only to Episode 42 of "The Adventures
+of the Blinking Eye" at a provincial cinema. I am left
+asking myself in bewilderment whether Mr. <span class="sc">C.H. Dudley
+Ward</span>, D.S.O., M.C., can have been serious in the affair.
+As I say, practically all the early characters are of little
+or no account, including <i>Rhoda</i> herself. Indeed, nobody
+looks like mattering at all, and the whole tale has, to be
+frank, taken on a somewhat soporific aspect, when lo!
+there enters a lady with a Russian name, no back to her
+gown and green face-powder. If I said of this paragon
+that she made the story bounce I should still do less than
+justice to her amazing personality. Really, she was a
+herald of revolution, whose remarkable method was to
+invite anyone important and obstructive to her house and
+make them discontented. It was the work of half-an-hour.
+Whether the process was hypnotic, or whether she actually
+put pepper in the ice-pudding, I could not clearly make out.
+But the dreadful fact remained that, let your patriotism be
+ever so firm, you had but to accept one of green-powder's
+little dinners and next morning you were as like as not to
+hurl a stone into 10, Downing Street. As for the end&mdash;!
+But no, I will stop short of it.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+<p>
+Frankly, what pleased me most about <i>Affinities</i> (<span class="sc">Hodder
+and Stoughton</span>) was its attractive get-up; pleasant, cherry-pie-coloured
+boards, swathed in a very daintily-drawn
+pictorial wrapper, the whole, as cataloguers say, forming an
+ideal birthday present for a young lady, especially one at all
+apt to discover, however harmlessly, the affinities that
+give these five tales their title. As for the stories themselves,
+really all that need be said is to congratulate Mrs.
+<span class="sc">Mary Roberts Rinehart</span> on the ingenuity with which she
+can tell what seems an obvious intrigue yet keep a surprise
+in reserve. I suppose it is because they come to
+us from America that certain of the episodes turn upon
+incidents in the Suffrage struggle, tale-fodder that our own
+militant novelists have long happily discarded. Of the
+others I think I myself would award the palm to one
+called "The Family Friend," a genially cynical little comedy
+of encouraged courtship, of which the end seems to be
+visible from the beginning, but isn't. Altogether, what I
+might call a Canute; in other words a book for the deck-chair,
+not too absorbing to endanger your shoes, however
+close you read it to the advancing wave.</p>
+
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page220" id="page220"></a>[pg 220]</span>
+<p>
+I think I should best describe the characteristic quality
+of <i>Four Blind Mice</i> (<span class="sc">Lane</span>) as geniality. The scene of it
+is Burmah&mdash;astonishing, when you consider the host of
+novels about the rest of India, that so few should employ
+this equally picturesque setting&mdash;and it is quickly apparent
+that what Mr. <span class="sc">C.C. Lowis</span> doesn't know at first hand
+about Rangoon is not likely to be missed. The tale itself is
+a good-humoured little comedy of European and native
+intrigue, showing how one section of the populace strove
+as usual to ease the white man's burden by flirtation and
+gossip, and the other to get the best for themselves by unlimited
+roguery and chicane. The whole thing culminates in
+a trial scene which is at once a delightful entertainment and
+(I should suppose) a shrewdly observed study of the course
+of Anglo-Burmese justice. I think I would have chosen
+that Mr. <span class="sc">Lowis</span> should base his fun on something a little
+less grim than the murder and mutilation of a European,
+or at least Eurasian,
+lady, even though the
+very slight part in
+the action played by
+<i>Mrs. Rodrigues</i>, when
+alive, could hardly be
+called sympathetic.
+Still we were all so
+good-humoured over
+her taking-off that
+for a long time I
+cherished a rather
+dream-like faith in
+her reappearance to
+prove that this attitude
+had been justified.
+Not that Mr.
+<span class="sc">Lowis</span> has not every
+right to retort that
+he is writing comedy
+rather than farce; certainly
+he has made
+his four blind mice
+to run in highly diverting
+fashion, very
+entertaining to those
+of us who see how
+they run; and as they
+at least save their tails
+triumphantly it would perhaps be ungenerous to complain
+about one that doesn't.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<a href="images/220.png"><img src="images/220-500.png" width="500" height="328" alt="Oh, Professor, can you provide me with a love-potion?" /></a>
+
+<p>
+<i>Damsel.</i> <span class="sc">"Oh, Professor, can you provide me with a love-potion? My
+Mother says if I wed not soon I must e'en go forth to earn my living."</span></p>
+
+<p>
+<i>Alchemist.</i> <span class="sc">"That I can, Madam, and of two kinds. First, the slow-working
+purple sort is verily cheap, but difficult of administration; for in
+water it is plainly visible and easy of discernment in tea. Whereas my
+patent potion, bringing love at first sight, closely resembleth the much-desired
+whisky. This sort is one guinea per tot."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+ <hr />
+<p>
+<i>The Story of the Fourth Army in the Battles of the Hundred
+Days</i> (<span class="sc">Hodder and Stoughton</span>) is printed on pages
+the size of a copy of <i>Punch</i>, and with its accompanying case
+of maps it costs eighteen-pence to go through the post. It
+boasts a hundred full-page photographs, also sketches,
+charts, maps, panoramas and diagrams <i>ad lib.</i>, a foreword
+by General Lord <span class="sc">Rawlinson</span> and ten appendices; so really
+it seems that the much-abused word "sumptuous" may for
+once be fairly applied. The author, Major-General Sir <span class="sc">A.
+Montgomery</span>, who himself helped to "stage" the battles he
+writes about, has built up a record which is in some sense
+unique, for I think it is possible from this book to trace
+precisely where any unit of the Fourth Army was placed, and
+what doing, at any given hour during the whole of the victory
+march from Amiens to the Belgian frontier. Apart from anything
+else it is pleasant to have a book that deals only with
+the days of victory; but it must be admitted that, to gain a
+completeness of detail so entirely satisfactory to those most
+nearly concerned, the writer has had to sacrifice something
+of human interest, for many of his pages are little more than
+a bare chronicle of names and places. Undoubtedly his book
+should be read with great deliberation, constant reference
+to the maps and a lively recollection of personal experiences
+on the spot; but the civilian reader may still be content
+to skim the text and save himself for the photographs.
+These, mostly taken from the air and of exquisite technical
+quality, form an amazing series, in themselves worth the
+heavy price. And who minds heavy prices when the proceeds
+are pledged to the service of wounded officers?</p>
+
+ <hr />
+<p>
+"Rather an anti-climax," I thought when I opened <i>The
+Happy Foreigner</i> (<span class="sc">Heinemann</span>) and found that it purported
+to tell the experiences of an English <i>chauffeuse</i> in France
+after the Armistice; but I know now that, in any place
+where <span class="sc">Enid Bagnold</span> happened to be, there would not be
+any anti-climax about. In a style so daring and vivid that
+it could only have been born, I suppose, of fast driving, the
+authoress describes a
+romantic affair with a
+young French officer;
+but her real theme is
+the suffering of France
+bowed down under the
+intolerable burden of
+so many strangers,
+both enemies and
+friends. The rich and
+well-fed Americans
+who will not trouble
+to understand, the
+grotesque Chinamen
+and Annamites, the
+starving Russians liberated
+from the Germans,
+flash by, with
+the ruins of villages,
+the tangle of wire
+and litter of derelict
+guns; and even the
+romance, intensely
+felt though it is, must
+be fleeting, like the
+rest of the nightmare,
+because the Frenchman's
+eyes are set
+on the future and
+the rebuilding of his fortunes. This book is not "about
+the War," but all the same it is one of the best books
+about the War that I have read.</p>
+
+ <hr />
+<p>
+<i>From a Common Room Window</i> (<span class="sc">Owen</span>) will be a slight
+refreshment to those who are weary of realistic studies of
+schoolmasters and schoolboys. "<span class="sc">Orbilius</span>," during what
+I take to have been a long career as a teacher, has not
+allowed his sense of humour to wither within him. In a
+note to his slender volume of sketches he says, "School-life
+is largely a comedy. When a schoolmaster ceases to recognise
+this it is time for him to 'bundle and go.'" He has
+been in the main a keen and sympathetic observer, and
+though his remarks upon headmasters are a little severe&mdash;personally
+I should hate to be called "a meticulous pedagogue"&mdash;I
+do not think that a little criticism of these potentates
+will do them the smallest harm. In "The Castigator"
+"<span class="sc">Orbilius</span>" gives a laughable sketch. The inventor of a
+flogging machine is soundly beaten by his own instrument,
+and he would be a sombre man indeed who could
+read it without a desire to witness such a chastening performance.
+By no means the least merit of this book is
+that it contains no new theories about education.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+159, September 15, 1920, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON ***
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159,
+September 15, 1920, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 159, September 15, 1920
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Owen Seaman
+
+Release Date: January 31, 2006 [EBook #17654]
+
+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. 159.
+
+
+September 15th, 1920.
+
+
+
+
+CHARIVARIA.
+
+Prohibition meetings in Scotland, says an official, have been attended
+by fifty thousand people. We should not have thought there were so
+many aliens in Scotland.
+
+ * * *
+
+At an Oldbury wedding the other day a brick was thrown at the
+bridegroom. There is no excuse for this sort of thing with confetti so
+cheap.
+
+ * * *
+
+One of the Pacific Islands, we read, is so small that the House of
+Commons could not be planted on it. A great pity.
+
+ * * *
+
+"Do hotel chefs use cookery-books?" asks a home journal. Our own
+opinion is that quite a large proportion of them cook by ear.
+
+ * * *
+
+Fourteen thousand artificial teeth recently stolen from premises in
+East London have not been recovered. While not attempting to indicate
+the guilty party, we cannot refrain from pointing out that several
+Labour leaders have recently been showing a good many more teeth than
+they were thought entitled to possess.
+
+ * * *
+
+At the Trades Union Congress a protest was made against the
+Unemployment Insurance Act. This must not be confused with the miners'
+threat to strike. That is merely a method of ensuring unemployment.
+
+ * * *
+
+The arrangement by which a hundred-and-fifty amateur brass bands are
+to play at the Crystal Palace on September 25th looks like an attempt
+to distract us from the miners' strike fixed for that day.
+
+ * * *
+
+A Ramsgate man charged with shooting a cat denied that he fired at it.
+The animal is said to have dashed at the bullet and impaled himself
+upon it.
+
+ * * *
+
+It has been agreed, says a news item, that milk shall be tenpence a
+quart this winter. Not by us.
+
+ * * *
+
+The War Office announces that Arabs in Southern Mesopotamia have
+captured a British armoured train. It should be pointed out to these
+Arab rebels that it is such behaviour as this that discourages the
+tourist spirit.
+
+ * * *
+
+Upon reading that another lady had failed in her attempt to swim the
+Channel a Scotsman inquires whether the Cross-Channel steamer rates
+have been increased, like everything else.
+
+ * * *
+
+We are informed that at a football match recently played in the
+Rhondda Valley the referee won.
+
+ * * *
+
+General OBREGON, says an unofficial message, has been elected
+President of Mexico. The startling report that he has decided to
+reverse the safe policy of his predecessors and recognise the United
+States requires corroboration.
+
+ * * *
+
+Everybody should economise after a great war, says an American film
+producer. We always do our best after every great war.
+
+ * * *
+
+According to an official report only fifty policemen were bitten by
+dogs in London last week. The falling off is said to be due to the
+fact that it has been rather a good year for young and tender postmen.
+
+ * * *
+
+Some highly-strung persons, says a medical writer, are even afraid of
+inanimate objects. This accounts for many nervous people being afraid
+of venturing too near a plumber.
+
+ * * *
+
+"I only want the potatoes in the allotment and not the earth," said a
+complainant at Deptford. It is evident that, if this man is a trade
+unionist, he is a raw amateur.
+
+ * * *
+
+Doctors at Vicenza have threatened to strike. This means that people
+in that neighbourhood will have to die without medical assistance.
+
+ * * *
+
+"Chief Hailstorm," of the Texas Rangers, has arrived in London. His
+brother, Chief Rainstorm, has, of course, been with us most of the
+summer.
+
+ * * *
+
+Girls, declares a well-known City caterer, are acquiring bigger
+appetites. We somehow suspected that the demand for a return of the
+wasp waist had influential interests behind it.
+
+ * * *
+
+The wife of a miner in Warwickshire has recently presented her husband
+with three baby boys. We understand that Mr. SMILLIE is sorry to have
+missed three extra strike-votes which he would have obtained had the
+boys been born a little earlier.
+
+ * * *
+
+An extraordinary story reaches us from North London. It appears that
+during the building of a house a brick slipped unnoticed from a
+hod and fell into its correct position, with the result that the
+accountant employed by the bricklayers could not balance his books at
+the end of the day.
+
+ * * *
+
+"As science measures time," declares an eminent geologist, "the Garden
+of Eden was a thing of yesterday." All we can say is, "Where was
+Councillor CLARK yesterday?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Special Correspondent._ "WHEN THEY RELEASED ME THEY
+SAID THAT IF I SHOWED MY FACE IN IRELAND AGAIN I SHOULD BE SHOT."
+
+_Editor._ "I'LL LET THESE SINN FEINERS SEE THAT I'M NOT TO BE
+INTIMIDATED. YOU'LL GO BACK BY THE NEXT TRAIN."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "POLES OVER THE LINE."
+
+ _Evening Paper._
+
+So _that_ accounts for the weather.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Whatever other defects may be alleged against the scarlet
+ uniform, it certainly makes for two things--discipline and
+ smartness--and these two are very important factors in
+ discipline."
+
+ _"Civil and Military Gazette," Lahore._
+
+Especially the former.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "During the night, she [Mrs. Hamilton, the Channel swimmer] said,
+ 'I occasionally took hot drinks and ate cold roast chicken, the
+ small bones of which I kept chewing, as it seemed to assist
+ me....'
+
+ A strict vegetarian, Mrs. Hamilton will sometimes swim five miles
+ before dinner, and skips for a few minutes every day."
+
+ _Scotch Paper._
+
+She should skip the chicken if she wants us to be excited about her
+strict vegetarianism.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+DOGGEREL.
+
+TO THE PRIME MINISTER'S ST. BERNARD PUP.
+
+ Ere your native country figured as the home of winter sport,
+ Paradise of spies and agents, and for kings a last resort;
+ Ere the hospitable chamois lent his haunts to Bolsh and Hun
+ Or the queue of rash toboggans took the curve of Cresta Run;
+
+ Long before a locomotive climbed the Rigi, cog by cog,
+ Fame had mentioned your forefathers--such a noble breed of dog,
+ How they tracked the lonely traveller with their nimble, sleuthy snouts,
+ Till beneath a billowy snowdrift they remarked his whereabouts.
+
+ How they dug him out of cold-store like a Canterbury sheep,
+ Took their tongues and kindly licked him where his nose
+ had gone to sleep,
+ Called attention to the cognac which they wore in little kegs
+ And remobilised the stagnant circulation in his legs.
+
+ How they lifted up their voices, baying like an iron bell,
+ Till the monks of good St. Bernard heard the same and ran like hell--
+ Ran and bore him to their hospice, where they put him into bed
+ And applied a holy posset stiff enough to wake the dead.
+
+ Heir to this superb tradition, born to such a pride of race,
+ From the doggy _flair_ that tells you what a lineage you can trace
+ You will draw, I trust, a solace for the strange and alien scene
+ Where you undergo purgation in a stuffy quarantine.
+
+ Further, if a homesick feeling sets you itching in the scalp
+ With a wave of poignant longing for the odour of an Alp,
+ Let this thought (a thing of splendour) help to keep your pecker up--
+ You have had a high promotion; you are now a Premier's pup!
+
+ You shall guard his sacred portals, you shall eat from off his plate,
+ Mix with private secretaries, move behind the veil of State,
+ And at Ministerial councils, as a special form of treat,
+ You shall sniff at WINSTON'S trousers, you shall fondle CURZON'S feet.
+
+ You may even serve your master as an expert, one who knows
+ All the rules regarding salvage in the Great St. Bernard snows,
+ Do him good by utilising your hereditary gift
+ To retrieve his Coalition from a constant state of drift.
+
+ O.S.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE PRODIGIES.
+
+We--Great-aunts Emily and Louisa--had in our innocence been telling a
+few old fairy stories at bedtime to those three precocities whom our
+hosts call their children.
+
+We knew that they talked Latin and Greek in their sleep and were too
+much for their parents in argument, but we thought that at least, at
+the story hour----
+
+We were stopped by Drusilla. "I don't think much of the moral of that
+one," she remarked. "It would seem to illustrate the Evil Consequences
+of Benevolence!"
+
+"But she came alive again," said Evadne, the youngest, in extenuation.
+
+"And the wolf was killed," we ventured in defence of our old story.
+
+"Still," persisted Drusilla, "you couldn't call it encouraging."
+
+"Then in the other case," went on Claude thoughtfully, "considering
+that she had been left in sole charge of the house and had no business
+to go out and leave it to the mercy of burglars, what moral are we to
+draw from the fact that she married a Prince and lived happily ever
+afterwards?"
+
+"Most of them have that sort of moral," said Drusilla. "And they
+are every one of them devoid of humour, except of the most obvious
+kind--no subtlety."
+
+"When _I_ was your age," said poor Louisa gently, "I used to laugh
+very heartily over the adventures of _Tom Thumb_."
+
+Claude seemed touched. "There are some capital situations in certain
+of them," he conceded, "which might be quite effectively treated."
+
+"How?" we asked weakly.
+
+It was Drusilla, the most alarming of the children, who finally
+undertook to sketch us out an example.
+
+After a short meditation, "Something like this," she said. "The
+situation, of course, you have met with before, but as remodelled you
+might call it--
+
+
+ THE TRIUMPH OF VIRTUE;
+ OR,
+ THE BAD FAIRY FOILED.
+
+
+ A certain King and Queen had one daughter, to whose christening
+ they invited a large company, forgetting as usual a particularly
+ important and bad-tempered Fairy, who signified her annoyance in
+ the usual manner.
+
+ The attendants of the little Princess (having read their
+ story-books) were preparing dolefully enough to fall asleep for a
+ hundred years, when the Fairy, with a contemptuous sniff, remarked
+ that the spell would not take effect for some time yet.
+
+ They breathed again and had almost forgotten the affair by the
+ time the Princess had grown up. But the Fairy had so arranged it
+ that the spell fell upon the Princess at the time when she was
+ engaged in making her choice of a husband from among the suitors
+ who had arrived at her father's Court.
+
+ The Princess was now bewitched in this way--that good men appeared
+ bad, ugly men handsome, and _vice versa_. The Fairy had hoped that
+ she would thus make a mess of her matrimonial affairs and live
+ unhappily ever after.
+
+ But she had reckoned without the disposition of the Princess, a
+ kind good girl with an overpowering sense of duty. When pressed
+ to choose, she replied firmly, "I will have no other than Prince
+ Felix."
+
+ To her his ugliness seemed pathetic and his character evidently
+ needed reformation so urgently that she longed to be at the job.
+ No one wondered at her choice, for he was, of course, the most
+ handsome and excellent of men.
+
+ Ultimately the Fairy broke her spell in a fit of exasperation, but
+ without any gratifying result. The Princess seemed happier than
+ ever and would sometimes say to a slightly puzzled friend:--
+
+ "Hasn't Felix improved _wonderfully_ since I married him?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "From 1910 to 1916 he was Viceroy in India, governing the
+ Dependency through very critical years and enjoying general
+ esteem, as was made clear in 1912, when an attempt was made to
+ assassinate him at Delhi."--"_Daily Mail" on Lord Hardinge_.
+
+It sounds like a _succes d'estime_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE PUBLIC BENEFACTOR.
+
+MR. SMILLIE. "I CAN'T BEAR TO THINK OF YOUR PAYING SO MUCH FOR YOUR COAL.
+I MUST PUT THAT RIGHT; I MUST SEE THAT YOU DON'T GET ANY."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _First Tramp_. "IN THIS BIT O' NOOSPAPER IT SAYS:
+'THE 'OLE CAUSE OF THE WORLD'S PRESENT DISORDER IS THE UNIVERSAL
+SPIRIT OF UNREST. I WONDER IF THAT'S TRUE?"
+
+_Second Tramp_. "I AIN'T NOTICED IT."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE COAL CUP.
+
+It seems to me that we all take a great deal of interest in the miners
+when they strike, but not nearly enough when they hew. And yet
+this business of hacking large lumps of fuel out of a hole, since
+civilisation really depends on it, ought to be represented to us from
+day to day as the beautiful and thrilling thing that it really is. Yet
+if we put aside for a moment Mr. SMILLIE'S present demands, we find
+the main topics of discussion in the daily Press as I write are
+roughly these:--
+
+ (1) The prospects of League Football and the Cup Ties.
+
+ (2) Ireland.
+
+ (3) The prevalence of deafness amongst blue-eyed cats.
+
+ (4) Mesopotamia.
+
+ (5) The Fall of Man.
+
+ (6) The sale of _The Daily Mail_, whose circulation during
+the coming winter is for some reason or other supposed to be almost
+as important to the children of England as their own.
+
+Of all these topics the first is, of course, by far the most
+absorbing, and almost everyone has remarked how the love of sport, for
+which Britons are famous, is growing more passionate than ever. It is
+not only cricket and football, of course; only the other day there was
+a shilling sweepstake on the St. Leger in our office and, from what
+I hear of the form of Westmorland in the County Croquet Championship
+during the past season--but I have no time to discuss these things
+now.
+
+The point is that, whilst this excitement over games grows greater
+and greater, the country is suffering, say the economists, from
+under-production and the inflation of the wage-bill. This means that
+everyone is trying to do less work and get more money for it, a very
+natural ambition which nobody can blame the miners from sharing. I
+suppose that if they all stopped mining and we had to depend for
+warmth on wrapping ourselves up in moleskins, the molliers, or
+whatever they are called, would strike for a two-shillings rise as
+well.
+
+The worst of it is that under-production, say the economists again
+(there is no keeping anything from these smart lads), sends prices up.
+Obviously then there is only one thing to do: we must take advantage
+of the prevailing passion and make mining (and other industries too
+for that matter) a form of sport. The daily papers should find very
+little difficulty in doing this.
+
+ WHO HEWS HARDEST?
+ CLAIM BY A LANARKSHIRE COLLIER
+
+would do very well for the headings of a preliminary article; and
+the claim of the Lanarkshire collier would, I am sure, be instantly
+challenged. After a few letters we might have a suggestion, say from
+Wales, that no team of eleven miners could hew so hard and so much
+as a Welsh one. And from that it would be only a short step to the
+formation of district league competitions and an international
+championship. Or the old-time system under which cricketers were
+matched for a stake by sporting patrons might be revived, and we
+should have headlines in the evening Press after this fashion:--
+
+ HUGE HEWING CONTEST.
+ NOTTS FOREST v. NEWCASTLE UNITED.
+ TREMENDOUS WAGER BETWEEN
+ THE DUKES OF PORTLAND AND
+ NORTHUMBERLAND
+
+and all the glades of Sherwood and the banks where the wild Tyne flows
+would be glad.
+
+It will be objected, of course, that the hewing of coal is not a
+spectacular affair. You cannot pack sixty thousand spectators into a
+mine to watch a hewing match, and even if you could the lighting is
+bad; but that is just where the skill of the reporters would come in.
+After all, we do not most of us see the races on which we bet, nor
+the Golf Championship, nor even BECKETT and WELLS. But there would be
+articles on the correct swing whilst hewing, and the proper stance,
+and how far the toes should be turned in; the chances of every team
+would be discussed; the current odds would be quoted, and, whoever
+won, the consumer would score, whilst the strongest hewers would
+become popular heroes and be photographed on the back-page standing
+beside their hews.
+
+I admit that the South of England and London in particular would have
+very little share in these competitions, and we should depend for
+local interest mainly upon the promising young colts from the Kentish
+nurseries. But we could find out from our dealers where our coals
+came from and follow from afar the fortunes of our adopted teams; and
+Cabinet Ministers, at any rate, could distribute their patronage and
+their presence with tact over the various areas involved.
+
+ MR. BALFOUR HEWS OFF AT
+ DURHAM
+
+is another headline which seems to suggest itself, and I should
+strongly urge the PRIME MINISTER, who has returned, I hear, with a St.
+Bernard from the Alps, to lose no time in selecting a more appropriate
+playmate.
+
+ PREMIER AT TONYPANDY.
+ MR. LLOYD GEORGE PATS PET
+ PIT-PONY
+
+is the kind of thing I mean, and very hard also to say six times
+quickly without making a mistake.
+
+Obviously the result of all this would be that not only would the
+miners be justified in asking for more money, but that the country
+would be able to afford it; and similar competitive leagues, to
+supersede trade unions, would soon be formed by other trades. One
+seems to hear faintly the loud plaudits of the onlookers as two crack
+teams of West-end road-menders step smartly into the arena....
+
+EVOE.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=Our Bolshevik Colonies.=
+
+ "Married Shepherd, used hilly country and all farm and station
+ work, desires Situation; wife would cook one or two men."
+
+"_The Press," Christchurch, N.Z._
+
+ "Miss ----, a soubrette, whose songs lean towards the voluptuous,
+ sank 'Somebody's Baby.' Her encore number, 'You'd be Surprised,'
+ was even more so."
+
+"_The Dominion," Wellington, N.Z._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Woodland Sprite (from Stepney, to eminent botanist)._
+"PLEASE, MISTER, MAGGIE WANTS TO KNOW WHAT YOU CHARGE FOR TAKING
+TWINS?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE PASSING OF THE CRADLE.
+
+ [According to a report which recently appeared in a daily paper,
+ cradles for infants are becoming a thing of the past.]
+
+ Snug retreat for mother's treasure,
+ Shall I pine as I repeat
+ Rumour's strange report, which says you're
+ Virtually obsolete?
+ Shall these lips a doleful lyric
+ Proffer at your ghostly bier,
+ Or compose a panegyric
+ Moistened with a minstrel's tear?
+
+ Me the theme leaves too unshaken,
+ Though "some" father more or less;
+ Better 'twere if undertaken
+ By my wife (a poetess);
+ And, if I be asked, Why vainly
+ Occupy, then, so much space?
+ My concern, I'll say, is mainly
+ With the woman in the case.
+
+ For, when she and you shall sever
+ (Though 'tis early yet to crow),
+ Your departure may for ever
+ Lay her proudest triumph low;
+ Yes, while men (I'm much afraid) 'll
+ Round her fingers still be twirled,
+ If her hand can't rock a cradle
+ It may cease to boss the world.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=Commercial Candour.=
+
+ "Irate Householders, why be swindled in a clumsy manner? Fetch
+ your second-hand clothing to me and be done in the most approved
+ style."--_Daily Paper_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"MORE LITERARY HEREDITY.
+
+ Fresh literary fame seems to be pending for the Maurice Hewlett
+ family circle.
+
+ Mr. Robin Richards, the son-in-law of the famous novelist, is
+ about to appeal to fiction readers with his first novel."--_Daily
+ Paper_.
+
+No more of the old-fashioned DARWIN and GALTON nonsense about fathers
+and children.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+SEVEN WHITEBAIT.
+
+Here and there in the drab routine of modern existence it is still
+possible to catch an occasional glimpse of romance and courageous
+living, and in the volume which lies before us as we write we are
+given a generous measure of peril and adventure in faery seas forlorn.
+_From Whitebait to Kipper: The Story of Seven Lives_, is the vivid
+record of a family of herrings, set down (posthumously, it would seem)
+with refreshing simplicity by Walter Herring, the youngest and perhaps
+the most brilliant of the family. The story begins with the early
+childhood of Walter, John, Isabel, Margaret, Rupert, Stephanie and
+little Foch, the last of whom was so named because he was born on the
+anniversary of the Armistice. (As a matter of fact they were all born
+on the same day, but for some reason which is not explained only one
+of them was called Foch.)
+
+You, reader, are one of those ignorant people who do so much discredit
+to our Public Schools. You fondly think that the whitebait is a
+special kind of fish, that there are father whitebaits and mother
+whitebaits and baby whitebaits. You are wrong. There are only baby
+whitebaits. At least there are baby herrings and baby pilchards, and
+these are called whitebait because they are eaten by the mackerel and
+because they look white when they are swimming upside down.
+
+Anyhow Walter and John and Isabel and Margaret and Rupert and
+Stephanie and little Foch began life as whitebait. They used to charge
+about the Cornish seas with whole platefuls of other whitebait,
+millions of them, and wherever they went they were pursued by
+thousands of mackerel, who wanted to eat them. One day John felt that
+the moment was very near when he would be eaten by a mackerel, and he
+was quite right. Isabel felt the same thing, but she was wrong.
+She jumped out of the water and was eaten by a sea-gull. When the
+fishermen saw Isabel leaping into the air they came out and caught
+the mackerel in a net. They also caught Margaret with a lot of other
+whitebait; and she was eaten by a barrister at "Claridge's."
+
+There were now four of the family who had not been eaten by anyone. It
+is extraordinary when you come to think of it that any herring ever
+contrives to reach maturity at all. What with the mackerel and the
+seagulls and the barristers, everybody seems to be against it.
+However, Walter, Rupert and Foch succeeded. Stephanie just missed.
+Walter and Rupert and Foch had jolly soft roes, a fact which is
+recorded in a cynical little poem by the precocious Foch, believed
+to be the only literary work of a whitebait now extant. We have only
+space here to quote the opening couplet:--
+
+ The herrings with the nice soft rows
+ Are gentlemen; the rest are does.
+
+The survivors of the family had now to choose a career. From the
+beginning it seems to have been recognised that Stephanie at least
+would have to be content with a humbler sphere than her more gifted
+brothers. She had a hard roe and was rather looked down upon. But she
+was an independent little thing and her pride revolted at a life of
+subjection at home; so while still a girl she went off on her own and
+got mixed up with some pilchards who were just being caught in a net.
+Stephanie was caught too and became a sardine. She was carefully oiled
+and put in a tin, and she was eaten at a picnic near Hampton Court.
+But there is every reason to suppose that she was eaten happy, since
+in those less exacting circles nobody seemed to mind about her hard
+roe, which had been a perpetual bugbear to her in the herring world.
+
+Meanwhile the remaining three had decided on a career. They were
+determined to be fresh herrings. This is of course the highest
+ambition of all herrings, though sadly few succeed in attaining it.
+One herring in his time plays many parts (SHAKESPEARE); he can seldom
+say with confidence what exactly he will be to-morrow; but he can
+be fairly certain that it won't be a fresh herring. Of our three
+survivors Rupert alone was to win the coveted distinction. He grew
+to be a fine boy and was eaten at Hammersmith, where his plump but
+delicate roe gave the greatest satisfaction. It was not eaten in the
+ordinary humdrum way, but was thickly spread on a piece of buttered
+toast, generously peppered, and _devoured_. And when his "wish" was
+placed on the kitchen-range, swelled rapidly and burst with a loud
+report, his cup of happiness was full.
+
+Little Foch, alas, failed to fulfil his youthful promise and became a
+common bloater. Worse than that, he was bloated too thoroughly and was
+almost impossible to eat. Even his lovely roe, the pride of his heart,
+became so salt that the Rector of Chitlings finally rejected it with
+ignominy, though not before he had consumed so much of it that he had
+to drink the whole of his sermon-water before he began to preach.
+
+But it was Walter, Walter the chronicler, Walter the clever, the
+daring, the ambitious, leader in every escapade, adviser in every
+difficulty, who was to suffer the crowning humiliation. Walter became
+a kipper. If there is one thing that a herring cannot stand it is to
+be separated from his roe. Walter's roe was ruthlessly torn from him
+and served up separate on toast, with nothing to show that it was
+the glorious roe of Walter. It was eaten at the Criterion by a
+stockbroker, and it might have been anybody's roe. Meanwhile the
+mutilated frame, the empty shell of Walter, was squashed flat in a
+wooden box with a mass of others and sold at an auction by the pound.
+It broke his heart.
+
+A.P.H.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FLOWERS' NAMES.
+
+LADY'S SLIPPER.
+
+ Country gossips, nodding slow
+ When the fire is burning low,
+ Or chatting round about the well
+ On the green at Ashlins Dell,
+ With many a timid backward glance
+ And fingers crossed and eyes askance,
+ Still tell about the Midmas Day
+ When Marget Malherb went away.
+
+ "After Midmas Day shall break,
+ Maidens, neither brew nor bake;
+ See your house be sanded clean;
+ Wear no stitch of fairy green;
+ Go barefoot; wear nor hose nor shoon
+ From rise of sun to rise of moon;
+ For the Good People watch and wait
+ Waiting early, watching late,
+ For foolish maids who treat with scorn
+ The mystic rites of Midmas Morn."
+
+ Marget Malherb tossed her head,
+ "I fear no fairies' charms," she said--
+ For she'd new slippers she would wear
+ To show her lad the pretty pair,
+ Soft green leather, buckled red--
+ "I fear no fairies' charms," she said.
+ She drew them on and laughed in scorn,
+ And out she danced on Midmas Morn.
+
+ Nevermore was Marget seen;
+ But when her lover sought the green
+ A Fairy Ring was all he found--
+ A Fairy Ring on the weeping ground;
+ And by the hedge a flower grew,
+ Long and slender, filled with dew,
+ Green and pointed, ribboned red;
+ And still you'll find them as I've said.
+ And Marget comes, so gossips say,
+ To wear her shoes on Midmas Day.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=The Gladiatorial Spirit.=
+
+ "Crossbie would have done better to have shot himself, but he gave
+ the ball to his partner."--_Provincial Paper_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "MILK PRICES UP.
+ HIGHER CHARGE TO MEET THE COST OF PETROL."
+
+_Daily Paper_.
+
+We always thought it was water that they used.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "EVERYBODY COULD BE LIKE US"
+
+BY TAKING "_PLUMPO_" TABLETS. THE SECRET OF STRENGTH AND BEAUTY]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: GOOD NEWS FOR WOMEN!
+
+"Every woman may be beautiful"
+
+Leonina Robinson
+
+CONSULTATIONS DAILY APPLY FOR MADAME R'S LATEST BOOK
+
+MADAME ROBINSON "HOW TO FASCINATE"]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: DOCTORS DESPAIRED--
+
+AMAZING STATEMENT BY WELL KNOWN LONDON MAN!!!
+
+Mr. SYD PORKER of 250A GLADSTONE TERRACE TOOTING WRITES
+
+"..._I AM TWICE THE MAN I WAS_."
+
+Mr. PORKER (TAKEN FROM LIFE)
+
+PARKES'S PURPLE PILLS.]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: WHY MAKE A SIGHT OF YOURSELF?
+
+ONE BOTTLE OF "FRIZOLIN" FIXES THE HAIR LIKE GLUE]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: DO YOU SUFFER FROM LACK OF BRAINS?
+
+IF SO--SEND P.O. FOR 2/6 TO
+
+PROF. X. BOX M. ROOM N. 21 SLOPER'S COURT PECKHAM
+
+_AND AWAIT RESULTS_.
+
+"ASTOUNDING!" (PRESS OPINION)
+
+PROF. X. THE MAN WHO HAS REVOLUTIONISED MEDICAL SCIENCE.]
+
+ * * *
+
+[Illustration: CECILIA BLOBS ROBES]
+
+ * * *
+
+THE PERSUASIVE POWER OF BEAUTY IN ART.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Bored Spectator_. "'ERE, NOT SO MUCH OF THE
+CA-CANNY."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+A DIFFERENCE OF CLASS.
+
+It is without doubt the most expensive hotel on the front, and the
+palatial dining-room in which we have just lunched is furnished and
+decorated in that sumptuously luxurious style to which only wealth,
+untrammelled by art, is able to attain. Personally I cannot afford to
+take my meals at such places, and I know that the same holds good of
+my fellow-guest, Charteris. Charteris was the best scholar of our
+year at Oriel, and since his demobilisation he and his wife have been
+living in two rooms, except during the periods when their son joins
+them for his holidays from Winchester. But our host is still possessed
+of an obstinate wealth which even the War has done little to diminish,
+and, as he himself puts it, is really grateful to those of his old
+friends who will help him in public to support the ignominy.
+
+At the moment, having finished lunch, we have betaken ourselves to
+wicker-chairs in the porch, and Charteris and our host being deep in a
+golf discussion I venture once more to turn a covert attention to the
+exceedingly splendid couple who have just followed us out from the
+dining-room. I noticed them first on my arrival, when they were just
+getting out of their Rolls-Royce, and the admiration which I then
+conceived for them was even further enhanced during lunch by a near
+view of the lady's diamonds and of the Cinquevalli-like dexterity
+shown by her husband in balancing a full load of peas on the concave
+side of a fork. At present the man, somewhat flushed with champagne,
+is smoking an enormous cigar with a red-and-gold band round it, while
+the lady, her diamonds flashing in the sunshine, leans back in her
+chair and regards with supercilious eyes the holiday crowds that
+throng the pavement below.
+
+Following her glance my attention is suddenly arrested by the strange
+behaviour of two passers-by, who have stopped in the middle of the
+pavement and, after exchanging some excited comments, are staring
+fixedly towards us. From their appearance they would seem to be a
+typical husband and wife of the working-class on holiday, and it
+occurs to me that, given the clothes and the diamonds, they might well
+be occupying the wicker-chairs of the couple opposite. Evidently the
+sight of somebody or something in the hotel porch has excited
+them greatly, for they continue to stare up at us with a hostile
+concentration that renders them quite unconscious of the frantic
+efforts of the small child who accompanies them to tug them towards
+the beach. After a moment they exchange a few more quick words, and
+the man leaves his companion and makes his way towards us. Ascending
+the hotel steps with an air of great determination he comes to a halt
+before the couple opposite.
+
+"'Ere, I've bin lookin' for you," he begins accusingly.
+
+The Rolls-Royce owner takes the cigar from his mouth and gazes in
+astonishment at the accusing apparition before him.
+
+"A hour ago," pursues the newcomer relentlessly, "you was driving
+along the front here in the whackin' great car. It ain't no good
+denyin' it, 'cos I took the number."
+
+"What d'ye mean--denying it?" exclaims Rolls-Royce. "Who's denying
+anythink?"
+
+"It ain't no good tryin' to deny it," retorts the other. "An' it ain't
+no good denyin' wot you did neether, 'cos I've got my missus 'ere to
+prove it."
+
+"What I did?" echoes the astonished man. "What did I do?"
+
+"Ran over my child's b'loon," states the accuser, fixing him with a
+pitiless eye. For the moment the object of this serious charge is too
+taken aback to be capable of speech.
+
+"'Ran over my child's b'loon,'" repeats the other inexorably.
+"Leastways your chauffer did. An' when we 'ollered out to yer to stop
+you just rushed on like a runaway railway-train."
+
+Rolls-Royce, conscious of the curious gaze of the entire company,
+pulls himself together and regards his accuser unfavourably.
+
+"First I've 'eard of it," he growls. "Where was the balloon anyway? In
+the road, I s'pose?"
+
+"Yes, it _was_ in the road," retorts the other defiantly, "where
+it's got every right to be. Road's there for the convenience of
+b'loon-fliers just as much as for motor-cars. More."
+
+"Look 'ere, that's enough of it," says the car-owner harshly. "If
+the balloon got run over it's yer own fault for letting it go in the
+road."
+
+"That's a nice way to talk," suddenly comes in shrill tones from the
+woman below, who has edged her way to the foot of the steps. "We don't
+go buyin' balloons for you to run over in yer cars. We're respectable
+people, we are, an' we work for our livin'."
+
+"Drivin' about in a car like an express train, runnin' over other
+people's b'loons," corroborates her husband bitterly. "Wot country
+d'yer think yer in? Prussia?"
+
+By this time a small crowd has gathered on the pavement and is gazing
+up at the protagonists with ghoulish interest. The lady in the
+diamonds, a prey to mingled indignation and alarm, has leant towards
+her spouse and is whispering to him urgently, but he shakes her off
+with an impatient movement.
+
+"Not on yer life," he snaps. "They won't get a cent out o' me."
+
+"Ho, won't we!" exclaims his accuser hotly. "We'll soon see about
+that. We're English people, we are--we don't allow people to go about
+destroyin' our b'loons."
+
+"No wonder they're so rich," cries the woman at the bottom of
+the steps in satirical tones. "That's the way to get rich, that
+is--destroyin' other people's prop'ty an' then refusin' to pay for it.
+Anybody could get rich that way."
+
+Reflections on the feasibility of this novel financial scheme are cut
+short by the appearance at the top of the steps of the hotel porter,
+who touches the originator of the disturbance on the shoulder.
+
+"Come on, you're not allowed up 'ere, you know," he observes.
+
+"Ho, ain't I?" retorts the man defiantly. "Is this Buckingham Pallis?"
+
+"You can't come up 'ere unless you've got business in the 'otel,"
+states the porter unmoved.
+
+"So I 'ave got bisness 'ere," declares the other. "Bisness c'nected
+with my son's b'loon."
+
+"An' we don't leave 'ere till it's settled, neither," cries the lady
+on the pavement. "'Alf-a-crown that balloon cost, an' we don't budge
+from 'ere till we get it."
+
+This is altogether too much for the owner of the Rolls-Royce.
+
+"'Alf-a-crown?" he explodes and turns indignantly to the company.
+"'Alf-a-crown for a child's balloon, and _then_ they go on strike."
+
+Derisive cheers and counter-cheers go up from the crowd below as the
+incensed balloon-owner bursts forth into an impassioned defence of his
+inalienable right as a free-born Briton to strike or to buy half-crown
+balloons as the spirit moves him. Simultaneously the lady in the
+diamonds rises and, producing a coin from her gold bag, holds it with
+a superb gesture at arm's length beneath his nose. For a moment or two
+he pays no attention to her, then takes the coin impatiently with the
+air of one brushing aside an irritating interruption and continues his
+harangue.
+
+"Come on," puts in the porter; "you've got yer 'alf-crown. S'pose you
+move on."
+
+"Got me 'alf-crown, 'ave I'?" he retorts. "Wot about my rights as a
+man? Does 'alf-a-crown buy them?"
+
+No one venturing to solve this social problem he turns slowly and,
+glaring over his shoulder at Rolls-Royce, descends the steps.
+
+"I'm an Englishman, I am," he concludes from the pavement. "No one
+can't close my mouth with 'alf-crowns."
+
+For a brief space he stands scowling up at the porch as though
+challenging all and sundry to perform this feat, then, taking his wife
+by the arm, moves off with her and the still insistent child towards
+the beach. The crowd on the pavement, regretfully convinced that the
+entertainment is at an end, disperses slowly. Rolls-Royce, seemingly
+unconscious of the interest of Charteris and our host, who are looking
+at him covertly as at some zoological specimen, relights his cigar and
+sits glowering across the road, and silence falls upon the scene--a
+silence broken at last by the lady in the diamonds, who has resumed
+her languid pose in the wicker-chair.
+
+"'Orrible people!" she observes, addressing the occupants of the porch
+generally. "Nice state o' things when you can't even be safe from 'em
+in yer own 'otel. You don't seem to be able to get away from these
+low-class people hanywhere--you don't reely!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Energetic Motor-Cyclist._ "WHY THE DEUCE DON'T YOU SIT
+STILL? YOU'LL HAVE US OVER IN A MINUTE."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+40-1920 A.D.
+
+ CALIGULA the man (quite mad, of course)
+ Conferred the consulship upon his horse.
+
+ Caligula the colt (a trifle saner)
+ Makes kings of jockey, purchaser and trainer.
+
+ Sanity counts; I raise my cup of massic
+ Not to the earlier but the later "classic."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=Journalistic Modesty.=
+
+ "I was his [Irving's] guest regularly at all Lyceum first nights for
+ a whole quarter of a century.... He delighted in the company of
+ third-rate people."
+
+_C.K.S. in "The Sphere."_
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _The Master._ "TCHA! THIS BACON TASTES SIMPLY BEASTLY."
+
+_The Mistress._ "GLADYS, WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THE BACON WE SET ASIDE
+FOR POISONING THE RATS?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+FASHION AND PHYSIQUE.
+
+The heightened stature of women was a favourite topic in
+anthropometric circles long before the War. It seems, however, that
+they are not going to rest content with their present standard of
+altitude, but are invoking the resources of Art to render it even more
+conspicuous. We do not speak rashly or without book. _The Evening
+News_ announced on September 8th that "Women are to be taller this
+autumn." Nature may be in the Fall, but women are on the rise. The
+mode by which this effect of elongation--so dear to Art--is to be
+attained is described in detail by the Paris correspondent of our
+contemporary as follows:--
+
+"A fluffy and very high head-dress will be worn this autumn. The
+effect is obtained by the aid of pads, and adds some inches to a
+woman's stature.... Another type of coiffure is being adopted by some
+hairdressers, who leave the hair flat and smooth round the face, and
+only make a sort of bird's-nest of the ends, which stand well up so as
+to lengthen the profile in an upward direction."
+
+Nothing, however, is said about the relation of fashion to the
+physique of the sterner sex. To correct this omission Mr. Punch
+has interviewed a number of West-End tailors, hatters, hosiers and
+bootmakers. The results of this inquiry may be briefly summarised.
+
+Heads are to be larger this autumn, and to keep pace with the
+extraordinary development of brain amongst our insurgent youth, as
+evidenced by the correspondence in _The Morning Post_, it has been
+found necessary to make a radical change in the stock sizes of hats.
+But, where there has been no cranial distension, provision will be
+made to remedy the defect by the insertion of a cork sheath, by the
+aid of which a head of undersized circumference will be able to wear
+a No. 8 hat. Again, to meet the needs of customers in whom the
+temperature of the cranial region is habitually high, a hat has been
+devised with a vacuum lining for the insertion of cold water. The
+"Beverley" nickel-plated refrigerating helmet, as it is called, has
+already found a large sale amongst Balliol undergraduates.
+
+As a result of the revival of the "Apes _v._ Angels" controversy, in
+which Canon BARNES has taken so prominent a part, and Mr. BOTTOMLEY
+has declared himself as a whole-hearted supporter of DARWIN (_vide_
+his article in _The Sunday Pictorial_), hands will be supple and
+boneless this autumn, as in fashionable portraits. This reversion to
+the prehensile type of hand, so noticeable in the chimpanzee, has its
+drawbacks, and the rigidity necessary for certain manual functions,
+such as winding up a motor or opening a champagne bottle, will be
+furnished by gloves of a stiffer and stronger fabric, ranging from
+simulation leatherette to chain-mail.
+
+Owing to the continued over-crowding of trains, tubes and motor-buses,
+elbows will be more prominent and aggressive than ever, and tailors
+are building a type of coat calculated to relieve the strain on this
+useful joint by a system of progressive padding, soft inside but
+resembling a nutmeg-grater at the point of contact with the enemy.
+
+It only remains to be added that in consequence of the publication of
+the Jewish Protocol and other documents pointing to revolutionary and
+anarchical Semitic activities, noses will be worn straighter and _a la
+Grecque_, and for similar reasons feet will be shorter and with more
+uplift in the instep.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=A Hot Spell.=
+
+From a story for boys:--
+
+"The heat was so intense that we were perspiring from every paw."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: SNOWED UNDER.
+
+THE ST. BERNARD PUP (_to his Master_). "THIS SITUATION APPEALS TO MY
+HEREDITARY INSTINCTS. SHALL I COME TO THE RESCUE?"
+
+[Before leaving Switzerland Mr. LLOYD GEORGE purchased a St. Bernard
+pup.]]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Futurist to Brother Brush (after along country walk in
+search of a subject)._ "THIS IS RATHER JOLLY. WHAT A RELIEF IT IS TO
+GET AMONGST THE REAL JAGGED STUFF."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE OLD WOMAN'S HOUSE ROCK, SCILLY.
+
+ "Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I,
+ "'Tis a mighty queer place to be building a home
+ In the teeth of the gales and the wash of the foam,
+ With nothing in view but the sea and the sky;
+ It cannot be cheerful or healthy or dry.
+ Why don't you go inland and rent a snug house,
+ With fowls in the garden and blossoming boughs,
+ Old woman, old woman, old woman?" said I.
+
+ "A garden have I at my hand
+ Beneath the green swell,
+ With pathways of glimmering sand
+ And borders of shell.
+ There twinkle the star-fish and there
+ Red jellies unfold;
+ The weed-banners ripple and flare
+ All purple and gold.
+ And have I no poultry? Oh, come
+ When the Equinox lulls;
+ The air is a-flash and a-hum
+ With the tumult of gulls;
+ They whirl in a shimmering cloud
+ Sun-bright on the breeze;
+ They perch on my chimneys and crowd
+ To nest at my knees,
+ And set their dun chickens to rock on the motherly
+ Lap of the seas."
+
+ "Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I,
+ "It sounds very well, but it cannot be right;
+ This must be a desolate spot of a night,
+ With nothing to hear but the guillemot's cry,
+ The sob of the surf and the wind soughing by.
+ Go inland and get you a cat for your knee
+ And gather your gossips for scandal and tea,
+ Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I.
+
+ "No amber-eyed tabby may laze
+ And purr at my feet,
+ But here in the blue summer days
+ The seal-people meet.
+ They bask on my ledges and romp
+ In the swirl of the tides,
+ Old bulls in their whiskers and pomp
+ And sleek little brides.
+ Yet others come visiting me
+ Than grey seal or bird;
+ Men come in the night from the sea
+ And utter no word.
+ Wet weed clings to bosom and hair;
+ Their faces are drawn;
+ They crouch by the embers and stare
+ And go with the dawn
+ To sleep in my garden, the swell flowing over them
+ Like a green lawn."
+
+PATLANDER.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+=Labour Leaders on the Links.=
+
+Under a photograph in a London evening paper runs the following
+legend:--
+
+ "Mr. John Hodge and another official of the Iron and Steel
+ Founders Union enjoy a game of golf after the Trade Union Congress
+ at Portsmouth adjourns for the day. Our picture shows Mr. John
+ Hodge Putting."
+
+Some idea of the forceful and unconventional methods of our Labour
+leaders may be gathered from the attitude of Mr. JOHN HODGE, whose
+club is raised well over his shoulder.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Prisoner._ "SORR, I OBJECT TO MR. CLANCY SERVIN' ON
+THE JURY."
+
+_Mr. Clancy._ "BEDAD, AN' FOR WHY, MICHAEL? I'M _FOR_ YEZ!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE TAXATION OF VIRTUE.
+
+"I shall wait," said Peter, "till they send me the final notice."
+
+"Being his wife," said Hilda to me, "I am in a position to know that
+he will not. In another week he will pay, saying that the thought of
+income-tax has affected his nerves and that he can bear it no longer.
+He wobbles like this for six weeks twice a year, and meanwhile his
+family starves."
+
+"Under our system of taxation," Peter retorted, "the innocent must
+suffer."
+
+"It falls alike on the just and the unjust," I interposed. "How else
+would you have it?"
+
+"Naturally I would have it fall on the unjust alone," he replied.
+
+"Why not on the just alone?" I asked, suddenly aware of the birth of
+an idea.
+
+"Of course you want exemption."
+
+"You miss my point. You grant that taxation is necessary?"
+
+"For the sake of argument," said Peter, "I grant that, with
+reservations."
+
+"Since then there must be taxes, why not have taxes that it would be a
+pleasure to pay? The current taxes are not a pleasure to pay."
+
+"I grant that," said Peter, "without reservations."
+
+"Now there is only one sort of tax that I can imagine anybody paying
+gladly, and that would be a tax on his virtues."
+
+"Still hankering after your own exemption," growled Peter.
+
+"Leave me out of account. Take, by preference, yourself. You have
+virtues and are proud of them."
+
+Hilda intervened, as I had anticipated. "The pride is admitted," said
+she, "but as for the assessment value of the virtues----"
+
+"Never mind that. You are proud of your virtues"--I turned to Peter
+again--"yet you are sometimes troubled, like the rest of us, by a fear
+that you may not really possess them after all. But the assessment
+of your virtues by the Board of Inland Revenue would prove their
+existence to yourself and to all the world."
+
+"Except his wife," said Hilda.
+
+"Her evidence would not be accepted. If you had paid taxation for the
+possession of a virtue, the receipt would be a guarantee that you did
+possess that particular virtue, and it would consequently be a source
+of profound moral satisfaction to you. You would pay with pleasure.
+Besides, it is a poor kind of virtue that will not abide a test. The
+tax would be a test. Suppose that five pounds was levied upon you for
+honesty. If you refused to pay how could you ever again claim to
+be honest? You would be marked as not valuing your honesty at five
+pounds. No, you would pay and pay readily."
+
+My words were addressed to Peter, but Hilda seemed the more
+interested. "It sounds well, but how would you raise the money?" she
+asked.
+
+"That would depend on the virtue," I replied. "The sobriety tax, for
+example, would be levied on anyone who had not for some years been
+convicted of drunkenness."
+
+"But how about the virtues that you don't get fined for not
+having--truthfulness, unselfishness, kindheartedness and all those?"
+
+"I admit that would be difficult. Can you suggest anything?" I asked
+Peter.
+
+"No," he answered. "I'm not encouraging your rotten idea anyhow."
+
+"Could the revenue officials feel people's bumps?" inquired Hilda
+reflectively.
+
+"I'm afraid," I said, "people wouldn't stand it. Fancy Peter----"
+
+"I've got it," said Hilda. "The revenue officials would attribute a
+virtue to the taxpayer, and if he wanted to escape taxation they would
+require him to prove to them that he lacked the virtue in question."
+
+"They would like doing that," muttered Peter.
+
+"You have found the solution," I said to Hilda. "If you impute to a
+person a virtue he does not possess he probably denies that he has it,
+but he is really flattered and his denial is not sincere. He would be
+willing to pay on it; he would rather pay than not."
+
+At this point Peter grew tired of refraining from comment. "I don't
+want you to suppose," he said, "that I am taking any interest in your
+fatuous scheme, but doesn't it occur to you that under your system it
+would be simply ruinous to have any virtues at all, and that the only
+people who would flourish would be those who had no virtues and were
+not ashamed of it?"
+
+"For one thing," I replied confidently, "the taxes would be graduated
+in the ordinary way in accordance with means. The slightest flicker of
+a conscience in Park Lane would be more heavily mulcted than the most
+blameless life in Bermondsey. But the main point is that under my
+system taxation would become the measure of a man's moral worth, and
+people who did not pay taxes would be simply out of it. All the
+plums would go the highly-taxed men. Their tax receipts would be
+certificates of character, and the more they earned the more the
+Treasury would be able to get out of them. So far from dodging
+taxation, people would scramble to pay it."
+
+"But how," asked Hilda, "would you make the tax receipt a trustworthy
+testimonial? Your rich man with one virtue would have a better receipt
+than your poor one with ten."
+
+"The virtues taxed would be shown on the receipt," I replied.
+"Besides, poor and virtuous men would, as I have suggested, get an
+abatement on their virtue taxes, and the amount of the abatement would
+be shown on the receipt. So it could easily be seen what proportion a
+man was paying on his wealth and what on his virtues."
+
+"Look here," said Peter, aroused at last, "do you convey that the
+tobacco duty would be paid by people who didn't smoke?"
+
+"It would amount to that," I answered, "assuming that abstention from
+tobacco were counted a virtue."
+
+"There may be something in it after all," said Peter.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Fisherman._ "THERE ARE PLENTY OF FISH, BUT YOU'VE GOT
+TO FISH DRY TO CATCH THEM."
+
+_American Friend._ "SAY, YOU MAKE ME REAL HOMESICK."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+NEW RHYMES FOR OLD CHILDREN.
+
+THE CHAMELEON.
+
+ The chameleon changes his colour;
+ He can look like a tree or a wall;
+ He is timid and shy and he hates to be seen,
+ So he simply sits down in the grass and goes green,
+ And pretends he is nothing at all.
+
+ I wish I could change my complexion
+ To purple or orange or red;
+ I wish I could look like the arm of a chair
+ So nobody ever would know I was there
+ When they wanted to put me to bed.
+
+ I wish I could be a chameleon
+ And look like a lily or rose;
+ I'd lie on the apples and peaches and pears,
+ But not on Aunt Margaret's yellowy chairs--
+ I should have to be careful of those.
+
+ The chameleon's life is confusing;
+ He is used to adventure and pain;
+ But if ever he sat on Aunt Maggie's cretonne
+ And found what a curious colour he'd gone,
+ I don't think he'd do it again.
+
+A.P.H.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THAT TEA INTERVAL.
+
+Before the last ball of 1920 is bowled and the last wicket in a
+first-class match falls (as will most probably happen at the Oval this
+very afternoon, September 15th), I should like to let the Gods of
+the Game know how I propose to spend the following winter in their
+interests, so that when the season of 1921 is with us the happiness of
+the cricket spectator may be even greater than it has been in the one
+now expiring.
+
+I am going to devote the time to invention. With every grain of
+intellect and ingenuity that I can scrape together I am going to
+devise a means of humanising the tea interval.
+
+Once upon a time I was so rash as to ridicule this interruption. I
+drew attention to the fact that the ancient heroes of the game had
+been able to dispense with it. ALFRED MYNN needed no Asiatic stimulant
+between lunch and the close of play. Even such whole-hearted moderns as
+HORNBY and SHREWSBURY and GRACE managed to do well without the support
+of Hyson or Bohea. For more than a century cricket and tea were
+strangers and cricket did not suffer. And so on. But the attacks were
+futile: the tea interval became an institution; and nothing now, one
+realises, can ever occur to separate the gallant fellows from their
+cups and saucers.
+
+That being accepted, the problem is how to make the interval at once
+less harmful to the match and more tolerable to the lover of cricket;
+and it is on this problem that I have been working and intend to work
+through the arid football months. What has to be done is (_a_) to get
+the interval abbreviated; and (_b_) to keep the players on the field.
+It is the length of it and the empty pitch that are so depressing
+to the spectator, and it is the return to the pavilion that is so
+detrimental to the rhythm of the game. Neither of the batsmen ever
+wants the interruption, and I have often noticed a reluctance in
+certain members of the fielding side. As for the watchers, they never
+fail to groan.
+
+Still, as I have said, it is now recognised that the craving for tea
+is as much a part of the present-day game as the six-ball over, and
+the time has passed for censuring it. But something can be done to
+regulate it; and I have based my efforts towards a solution on the
+argument that, if a cricketer is not called in from the game to read
+his telegram, but (as we have all seen so often) the telegram is
+taken out to him, surely the precious fluid that he so passionately
+desiderates can be taken out to him too. At present, therefore, all
+my thoughts are turned upon the construction of some kind of wheeled
+waggon, such as is in use at a well-known restaurant in the Strand, on
+which fifteen cups (two for the umpires) and an urn and sugar and milk
+can be conveyed, with the concomitant bread-and-butter, or shrimps or
+meringues, or whatever is eaten with the tea, on a lower shelf. This
+could be pushed on to the ground at 4.15 and pushed back again at
+4.20 without any serious injury to the match. That is my idea at the
+moment; but I am a poor mechanic and should be glad if some properly
+qualified person--someone with a HEATH ROBINSON mind--would take the
+work over.
+
+E.V.L.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+IN THE MOVEMENT.
+
+How I came to be able to understand the language of trees is a secret.
+But I do understand it. It is my peculiar privilege to overhear all
+kinds of whispered conversation--green speech in green shades--as I
+take my rest underneath the boughs on a country walk. Some day I shall
+set down fully the result of these leaves-droppings, but at the moment
+I want to tell only of what I heard some blackberry bushes saying last
+week.
+
+"From what I hear," said the first bush, "the cost of everything's
+going up by leaps and bounds."
+
+"How is that?" asked one of its neighbours.
+
+"It's due, I understand," the first bush replied, "partly to scarcity
+of labour and partly to profiteering."
+
+"I don't see why we shouldn't participate," said another bush. "Here
+we are, covered with fruit, and it's all just as free as ever it was.
+That's absurd, after a big war. The duty of a war is to make things
+dearer and remove freedom."
+
+"Of course," said the others.
+
+"'Your blackberries will cost you more'--that should be our motto,"
+said the first bush. "We must be up to date."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A few days later, after one of our infrequent post-bellum gleams of
+sunshine, I met the Lady of the White House and all her nice children
+returning from a day's blackberrying. They showed me their
+baskets with a proper pride, and I was suitably enthusiastic and
+complimentary.
+
+"But do look at our poor hands and arms and our torn frocks!" said the
+lady. "We've picked blackberries here year after year, but we've never
+been so badly scratched before. It's extraordinary. I can't account
+for it."
+
+I could, though.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE MOON-SELLER.
+
+ A man came by at night with moons to sell;
+ "Moons old and new," he cried;
+ I hurried when I heard him call for me;
+ He set his basket on the wall for me
+ That I might see inside
+ And watch the little moons curl up and hide.
+
+ Each one he touched rang softly like a bell;
+ He pointed out to me
+ Great harvest moons with russet light in them,
+ Pale moons to gleam where snows grow white in them,
+ Red moons for victory,
+ And steadfast moons for men in ships at sea.
+
+ The man who came with many moons to sell
+ Opened his basket wide;
+ Showed me the filmy crescent moons in it,
+ And the piled discs (like silver spoons) in it
+ That push and pull the tide,
+ And small sweet honey-moons to give a bride.
+
+ "This moon," he said, "you will remember well;
+ Its price is wealth untold;"
+ Took a camp-moon he vowed he stole for me
+ And softly wrapped to keep it whole for me.
+ I heaped his feet with gold;
+ He changed, and said the moon might not be sold.
+
+ Then I was angry that with moons to sell
+ He thought he had the right
+ To keep that one. Those who were lent to us
+ Had written the brief notes they sent to us
+ When it shone out at night.
+ I caught it to my heart and held it tight.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Twenty Students Require clean, respectable Board-Residence; would
+ not object to Share Bed."--_Provincial Paper._
+
+They should have lived in the days of Og, the King of Basan; his
+bedstead _was_ a bedstead.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "Calcutta.
+
+ During the past few weeks several parties of Afghan merchants and
+ traders have settled up their affairs and come into India. In
+ order to avoid being questioned by British poets in the
+ Khyber, they have entered this country by way of the Sissobi
+ pass."--_Indian Paper._
+
+Some of our poets are notoriously curious, and we are hardly surprised
+to learn that the Afghans could not "abide their question."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A COCK-AND-BULL STORY.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+THE LANGUAGE DIFFICULTY.
+
+"The jolly part about an island where there are no towns and no
+railways," said Willoughby, "is that you have thrills of excitement as
+to where you will sleep next night or eat your next meal. Now when we
+land at Lochrie Bay to-morrow it will be nearly lunch-time; but shall
+we get lunch?"
+
+"I can answer that," replied MacFadden, whose grandfather was a
+Scotsman, and who was once in Edinburgh for a week; "the map shows
+it is only five miles to Waterfoot, and there's sure to be an hotel
+there. Those little Scots inns are all right."
+
+"Yes," chimed in Sylvia, "and very likely there'll be nothing to eat
+when we get there. I am thinking of you three men, of course," she
+added hastily; "we girls don't want much."
+
+"As for me," said Willoughby, looking at Sylvia, whom he has adored
+dumbly for years, "very little satisfies me. I'm like the fellow who
+said, 'a crust of bread, a bottle of wine and you.' You know the chap,
+MacFadden."
+
+"Isn't it wonderful how he remembers his OMAR?" remarked Mac
+enthusiastically.
+
+"I don't know much poetry," said Willoughby, whose tastes are sporting
+rather than literary, "but I always liked that bit."
+
+"But lunch," I interposed, "is the pressing question. There's sure to
+be an hotel at Waterfoot, as you say. Send a telegram there, asking
+for lunch for six. If there's no hotel, no reply and no lunch. If
+there is we get our reply and our lunch. Willoughby can wire, because
+he learned all about telegraphs in the army."
+
+Within two hours came the reply. I opened it.
+
+"Will supply luncheon for six, 1.15 to-day."
+
+"Can you remember what your wire said, Willoughby?" I asked mildly.
+
+"Rather. 'Can you provide luncheon for six at 1.15.--Willoughby.'"
+
+"Exactly. Can't you see, you silly ass, how you've muffed it? Read
+this." Willoughby read, while Sylvia and Molly looked over and
+giggled.
+
+"Hang it all! I suppose I ought to have said to-morrow," he sighed.
+"Here, Thompson, you and Hilda, as the married couple of the party,
+ought to deal with these beastly emergencies."
+
+"Not I," I replied. "You've got us in the muddle, now get us out. Wire
+and say it's for to-morrow."
+
+"And then," said my practical wife, "we shall get to-day's hot lunch
+cold to-morrow, and a rapacious Scotch-woman will charge us for it
+twice over."
+
+"I wish you would say 'Scots,' not 'Scotch,'" complained MacFadden.
+
+"Sorry, Kiltie," rejoined Hilda; "and perhaps one of you two will deal
+with the Scots woman."
+
+"Leave her to me and none of you interfere," answered MacFadden.
+"Willoughby is no good at a job that needs tact. He's not half as
+lovable as I am either. Is he, Molly? We'll send the wire at once.
+Come on."
+
+Next day the steamer dropped us into the ferry-boat off Lochrie Bay,
+and our bicycles, more frightened than hurt, but much shaken, were
+hurled in after us. After five miles on a primitive road we arrived at
+the hotel very late.
+
+MacFadden, assuring us that if we only kept quiet he would see us
+through in spite of any Scots innkeeper, led the way.
+
+The landlady, a dour woman, appeared.
+
+"Good morning, Madam," began Mac politely.
+
+"Will you be Mr. Willoughby?" she replied.
+
+"No," said Mac truthfully, assuming a puzzled expression.
+
+"Weel, then," resumed the lady, addressing Sylvia, who happened to be
+close behind, "will you be Mrs. Willoughby?"
+
+Molly sniggered; Sylvia reddened and answered hastily, "No, I won't!"
+at which Willoughby sighed audibly.
+
+"What I wanted to ask you was whether perhaps you could be so kind
+as to give us a bit of bread and cheese or something," said Mac
+ingratiatingly. "Of course one doesn't expect a proper lunch in these
+places without ordering it beforehand."
+
+"And those that order beforehand dinna come," she replied with some
+asperity. "A pairty of six ordered for yesterday then they telegraphs
+to say they mean to-day, and now they're no here and the time lang
+gone by. I thocht ye were the pairty at first."
+
+"What a shame!" murmured MacFadden sympathetically.
+
+"Ay, if they had turned up they should hae had their lunch, and paid
+for it too," said the good lady grimly. "Twa days they should hae paid
+for. But if ye like ye can eat their lunch for them; it's cauld but
+guid."
+
+So we ate heartily, paid reasonably and went away on good terms with
+ourselves and the lady.
+
+Walking up the steep hill from the hotel I was just behind Willoughby
+and Sylvia. He was pushing the two bicycles and explaining something
+elaborately.
+
+"Awfully sorry about that silly woman, Sylvia," he said, "but it's
+only their rotten way of talking English. You see, when she says,
+'_Will_ you be Mrs. Willoughby?' she really means, '_Are_ you?' It's
+not the same as when an Englishman says it. If I said, 'Will you be
+Mrs. Willoughby?' that would be different; it would mean--"
+
+"Yes," interrupted Sylvia rather breathlessly, "that, Tommy dear,
+would be plain English, to which I could give a plain answer. I should
+say--"
+
+We had reached the brow of the hill. I mounted my bicycle and hurried
+on.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Mistress._ "YOU SEEM TO HAVE BEEN IN A GOOD MANY
+SITUATIONS. HOW MANY MISTRESSES HAVE YOU HAD, ALL TOLD?"
+
+_Maid._ "FIFTEEN, ALL TOLD--AND ALL TOLD WHAT I THOUGHT OF 'EM."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "1,000 EGGS IN ONE WHISKER."
+
+ _Daily Paper._
+
+A much worse case than that of LEAR'S old man with a beard, who said
+it was just as he feared.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "For all we know, Helen of Troy's best friends might have said,
+ 'Helen has style and knows how to make the most of her good
+ points; but, honest, now, do you think she should have got the
+ apple?'"
+
+ _Evening Paper._
+
+Certainly not. That's why Paris gave it to Aphrodite.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _First Ancient (with morbid fear of growing deaf,
+breaking long silence)._ "THERE--IT'S COME AT LAST! YOU'VE BEEN
+TALKING ALL THIS TIME AND I AIN'T HEARD A SINGLE WORD."
+
+_Second Ancient._ "BAIN'T BIN TALKIN'--BIN CHEWIN'."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
+
+Really I think that _Rhoda Drake_ (MURRAY) must be the most
+preposterously startling story that I have read for this age. It makes
+you feel as if you had had a squib exploded under your chair at a
+temperance meeting. After beginning placidly about persons who live in
+South Kensington (and are so dull that the author has to fill up
+with minute descriptions of their drawing-rooms), somewhere towards
+three-quarters through its decorous course it plunges you head over
+ears into such tearing melodrama as is comparable only to Episode 42
+of "The Adventures of the Blinking Eye" at a provincial cinema. I
+am left asking myself in bewilderment whether Mr. C.H. DUDLEY
+WARD, D.S.O., M.C., can have been serious in the affair. As I say,
+practically all the early characters are of little or no account,
+including _Rhoda_ herself. Indeed, nobody looks like mattering at all,
+and the whole tale has, to be frank, taken on a somewhat soporific
+aspect, when lo! there enters a lady with a Russian name, no back to
+her gown and green face-powder. If I said of this paragon that she
+made the story bounce I should still do less than justice to her
+amazing personality. Really, she was a herald of revolution, whose
+remarkable method was to invite anyone important and obstructive to
+her house and make them discontented. It was the work of half-an-hour.
+Whether the process was hypnotic, or whether she actually put pepper
+in the ice-pudding, I could not clearly make out. But the dreadful
+fact remained that, let your patriotism be ever so firm, you had but
+to accept one of green-powder's little dinners and next morning you
+were as like as not to hurl a stone into 10, Downing Street. As for
+the end--! But no, I will stop short of it.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Frankly, what pleased me most about _Affinities_ (HODDER AND
+STOUGHTON) was its attractive get-up; pleasant, cherry-pie-coloured
+boards, swathed in a very daintily-drawn pictorial wrapper, the whole,
+as cataloguers say, forming an ideal birthday present for a young
+lady, especially one at all apt to discover, however harmlessly, the
+affinities that give these five tales their title. As for the stories
+themselves, really all that need be said is to congratulate Mrs. MARY
+ROBERTS RINEHART on the ingenuity with which she can tell what seems
+an obvious intrigue yet keep a surprise in reserve. I suppose it is
+because they come to us from America that certain of the episodes turn
+upon incidents in the Suffrage struggle, tale-fodder that our own
+militant novelists have long happily discarded. Of the others I think
+I myself would award the palm to one called "The Family Friend," a
+genially cynical little comedy of encouraged courtship, of which the
+end seems to be visible from the beginning, but isn't. Altogether,
+what I might call a Canute; in other words a book for the deck-chair,
+not too absorbing to endanger your shoes, however close you read it to
+the advancing wave.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I think I should best describe the characteristic quality of
+_Four Blind Mice_ (LANE) as geniality. The scene of it is
+Burmah--astonishing, when you consider the host of novels about the
+rest of India, that so few should employ this equally picturesque
+setting--and it is quickly apparent that what Mr. C.C. LOWIS doesn't
+know at first hand about Rangoon is not likely to be missed. The
+tale itself is a good-humoured little comedy of European and native
+intrigue, showing how one section of the populace strove as usual to
+ease the white man's burden by flirtation and gossip, and the other
+to get the best for themselves by unlimited roguery and chicane. The
+whole thing culminates in a trial scene which is at once a delightful
+entertainment and (I should suppose) a shrewdly observed study of the
+course of Anglo-Burmese justice. I think I would have chosen that Mr.
+LOWIS should base his fun on something a little less grim than the
+murder and mutilation of a European, or at least Eurasian, lady, even
+though the very slight part in the action played by _Mrs. Rodrigues_,
+when alive, could hardly be called sympathetic. Still we were all so
+good-humoured over her taking-off that for a long time I cherished
+a rather dream-like faith in her reappearance to prove that this
+attitude had been justified. Not that Mr. LOWIS has not every right to
+retort that he is writing comedy rather than farce; certainly he has
+made his four blind mice to run in highly diverting fashion, very
+entertaining to those of us who see how they run; and as they at
+least save their tails triumphantly it would perhaps be ungenerous to
+complain about one that doesn't.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Damsel._ "OH, PROFESSOR, CAN YOU PROVIDE ME WITH A
+LOVE-POTION? MY MOTHER SAYS IF I WED NOT SOON I MUST E'EN GO FORTH TO
+EARN MY LIVING."
+
+_Alchemist._ "THAT I CAN, MADAM, AND OF TWO KINDS. FIRST, THE
+SLOW-WORKING PURPLE SORT IS VERILY CHEAP, BUT DIFFICULT OF
+ADMINISTRATION; FOR IN WATER IT IS PLAINLY VISIBLE AND EASY OF
+DISCERNMENT IN TEA. WHEREAS MY PATENT POTION, BRINGING LOVE AT FIRST
+SIGHT, CLOSELY RESEMBLETH THE MUCH-DESIRED WHISKY. THIS SORT IS ONE
+GUINEA PER TOT."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_The Story of the Fourth Army in the Battles of the Hundred Days_
+(HODDER AND STOUGHTON) is printed on pages the size of a copy
+of _Punch_, and with its accompanying case of maps it costs
+eighteen-pence to go through the post. It boasts a hundred full-page
+photographs, also sketches, charts, maps, panoramas and diagrams _ad
+lib._, a foreword by General Lord RAWLINSON and ten appendices; so
+really it seems that the much-abused word "sumptuous" may for once
+be fairly applied. The author, Major-General Sir A. MONTGOMERY, who
+himself helped to "stage" the battles he writes about, has built up a
+record which is in some sense unique, for I think it is possible from
+this book to trace precisely where any unit of the Fourth Army was
+placed, and what doing, at any given hour during the whole of the
+victory march from Amiens to the Belgian frontier. Apart from anything
+else it is pleasant to have a book that deals only with the days of
+victory; but it must be admitted that, to gain a completeness of
+detail so entirely satisfactory to those most nearly concerned, the
+writer has had to sacrifice something of human interest, for many of
+his pages are little more than a bare chronicle of names and places.
+Undoubtedly his book should be read with great deliberation,
+constant reference to the maps and a lively recollection of personal
+experiences on the spot; but the civilian reader may still be content
+to skim the text and save himself for the photographs. These, mostly
+taken from the air and of exquisite technical quality, form an amazing
+series, in themselves worth the heavy price. And who minds heavy
+prices when the proceeds are pledged to the service of wounded
+officers?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Rather an anti-climax," I thought when I opened _The Happy Foreigner_
+(HEINEMANN) and found that it purported to tell the experiences of an
+English _chauffeuse_ in France after the Armistice; but I know now
+that, in any place where ENID BAGNOLD happened to be, there would not
+be any anti-climax about. In a style so daring and vivid that it
+could only have been born, I suppose, of fast driving, the authoress
+describes a romantic affair with a young French officer; but her real
+theme is the suffering of France bowed down under the intolerable
+burden of so many strangers, both enemies and friends. The rich and
+well-fed Americans who will not trouble to understand, the grotesque
+Chinamen and Annamites, the starving Russians liberated from the
+Germans, flash by, with the ruins of villages, the tangle of wire and
+litter of derelict guns; and even the romance, intensely felt though
+it is, must be fleeting, like the rest of the nightmare, because the
+Frenchman's eyes are set on the future and the rebuilding of his
+fortunes. This book is not "about the War," but all the same it is one
+of the best books about the War that I have read.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_From a Common Room Window_ (OWEN) will be a slight refreshment
+to those who are weary of realistic studies of schoolmasters and
+schoolboys. "ORBILIUS," during what I take to have been a long career
+as a teacher, has not allowed his sense of humour to wither within
+him. In a note to his slender volume of sketches he says, "School-life
+is largely a comedy. When a schoolmaster ceases to recognise this it
+is time for him to 'bundle and go.'" He has been in the main a keen
+and sympathetic observer, and though his remarks upon headmasters are
+a little severe--personally I should hate to be called "a meticulous
+pedagogue"--I do not think that a little criticism of these potentates
+will do them the smallest harm. In "The Castigator" "ORBILIUS" gives a
+laughable sketch. The inventor of a flogging machine is soundly beaten
+by his own instrument, and he would be a sombre man indeed who could
+read it without a desire to witness such a chastening performance.
+By no means the least merit of this book is that it contains no new
+theories about education.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+159, September 15, 1920, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON ***
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