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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:53:25 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:53:25 -0700 |
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diff --git a/22653-h/22653-h.htm b/22653-h/22653-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f27bde8 --- /dev/null +++ b/22653-h/22653-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2534 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml' xml:lang='en' lang='en'> +<head> +<meta http-equiv='Content-Type' content='text/html;charset=iso-8859-1' /> +<meta http-equiv='Content-Style-Type' content='text/css' /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, Vol. 158, Apr. 28, 1920</title> +<style type='text/css' media='screen'> + +body { margin: 5% 15%; } + +h1,h2,h3 { margin: 3% 0%; text-align: center; } + +p { margin:1.5% 0% 0%; text-align:justify; } +p.ralign { text-align:right; } +p.center { text-align:center; } +p span.ralign { position: absolute;right: 30%; } + +blockquote { margin:0% 15%; } + +ul { list-style:none; margin-top:1%; margin-bottom:1%; } + +img { border:none; } +div.i-center { display: table; margin:auto; } +.i-flright { float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em; } +.i-flleft { float:left; margin:3% 3% 0% 0%; padding:0% 1% 0% 0%; } + +hr { width:75%; margin:5% auto; } +hr.short { width: 25%; } +hr.half { width: 50%; } +.masthead hr { margin:1% auto; } + +.masthead { margin-bottom:15%; } + +span.pagenum, p.pagenum +{ +position: absolute;left: 1%; +font-size: 75%; +font-weight:normal; +font-style:normal; +font-variant:normal; +} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +div.center {display:table; margin:auto; } + +.poem { display:table; margin:auto; } +.stanza { margin:1.75% 0%; } +.in1em { margin-left: 1em; } +.in3em {margin-left:3em; } + +.subtitle { margin:0% 0% 3%; text-align:center; } + + +.box { +border:solid thin; +padding:1em; +width:10em; +margin-top:1em; +margin-bottom:1em; +text-align:center; +} + +.u { text-decoration:underline; } + +.trnote { background:#cccccc; margin:5%;padding:1em; } + +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 158, +April 28, 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, Volume 158, April 28, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: September 17, 2007 [EBook #22653] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, VOL. 158, APRIL 28, 1920 *** + + + + +Produced by V. L. Simpson, Jonathan Ingram and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='masthead'> +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI</h1> + +<h2>VOL. 158.</h2> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>April 28, 1920.</h2> + +<hr /> +</div> + +<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></p> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p><span class='smcap'>General Denikin</span> is now in London. This is +the first visit he has paid to this country since his last assassination +by the Bolshevists.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>New proposals regarding telephone charges are expected as soon as the +Select Committee has reported. If the system of charging by time in +place of piece-work is adopted it will mean ruination to many +business-men.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>The Swiss Government has issued orders that ex-monarchs may enter the +country without passports. It is required, however, that they should +take their places in the queue.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>It is reported that a Londonderry man walked up to a Sinn Feiner the +other day and said, "Shoot me." We understand that the real reason why +the fellow was not accommodated was that he omitted to say "Please." The +best Sinn Feiners are very punctilious.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>"The drinking of intoxicants," says an American prohibitionist, +"causes early death in ninety-five cases out of a hundred." Several +Americans, we are informed, have gallantly offered themselves for +experimental purposes.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>"It is a scandal," says a contemporary, "that the clerks at Llanelly +should ask for twelve pounds fifteen shillings a week." But surely there +is no harm in asking.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>According to a weekly paper not only is <span class='smcap'>Constance +Binney</span> a famous screen star, but she is also a first-class +ukelele player. The latest reports are that the news has been received +quietly.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>"If slightly cut before cooking, potatoes slip out of their skins +easily," says a home journal. This is better than frightening them out +of their skins by jumping out from behind a door and saying "Boo."</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>Mr. <span class='smcap'>William Aird</span>, the germ-proof man, has +been giving demonstrations in London. It is reported that last week a +germ snapped at him and broke off two of its teeth.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>"In New York the other day," says a contemporary, "the sky kept +streaming silver sheen; mistlike lights pulsated in rapid flashes to the +apex and piled-up stars could be seen." The fact that New York can still +see things like this must be a sorry blow to the Prohibitionists.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>"Working men have been hit very hard by the tyrannical Budget," +announces a morning paper. We too are in sympathy with those miners who +are now faced with only one bottle of champagne a day.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>"These cotton boom profits," said the President of the Textile +Institute recently, "are abnormal and unhealthy." The Manchester man, +however, who recently came out with innumerable spots resembling +half-crowns as the result of the boom, declares that no inconvenience is +suffered once the dizziness has passed away.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>From Bungay in Suffolk comes the news that a water-wagtail has built +its nest in a milk-can. We resolutely refrain from comment.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>A youth recently arrested in Dublin was found not to have a revolver +on him. He is being detained for a medical examination.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>A great many people are committing suicide, says the Vicar of St. +Mathew's, Portsmouth, because they have nothing to live for. We +disagree. <i>The Weekly Dispatch's</i> accounts of the next world are +well worth staying alive for.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>Airships under construction, declares +Air-Commodore <span class='smcap'>E. M. Maitland</span>, will make the +passage to Australia in nine and a-half days. In tax-paying circles it +is said that the fashionable thing will be to start now and let the +airship overtake you if it can.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>More than a million Americans, it is stated, are preparing to visit +Europe this summer. It is thought that there is at least a sporting +chance that some of them will be hoist with their own bacon.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>"The man who does not know Latin," says the Dean +of <span class='smcap'>Durham</span>, "is not really educated." Several +uneducated business men are said to have written to +the <span class='smcap'>Dean</span> asking the Latin for what they think +of the new Budget.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>At a recent wedding in Tyrone young men who had come to wish the +bride and bridegroom luck lit a fire against the door, blocked the +chimney with straw, broke the windows, threw water and cayenne-pepper on +the wedding-party and bombarded the house with stones for two hours. It +is just this joyous, care-free nature of the Irish that the stolid +Englishman will never learn to appreciate.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>We understand that the man who tried to gain admission to the Zoo on +Sunday by making a noise like a Fellow of the Zoological Society was +detected in the act.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>A person who recently attempted to commit suicide by lying down on +the Caledonian Railway line was found to have a razor in one pocket and +a bottle of laudanum in the other. The Company, we understand, +strenuously deny the necessity of these alternatives.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:600px;'> +<a href='images/i-321.png'> +<img src='images/i-321th.png' alt='' title='Click for larger image' + width='600' height='420' /> +</a> + +<p><i>Lady</i> (<i>to manager of Servants' Registry</i>). +"<span class='smcap'>I wish to obtain a new governess</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Manager.</i> "<span class='smcap'>Well, Madam, you remember we +supplied you with one only last week, but, judging by the report we have +received, what you really need is a lion-tamer</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h3>A Callous Crowd.</h3> + +<blockquote><p>"The christening ceremony was performed by Lady Maclay, +wife of the Shipping Controller. Thousands of people saw her go down the +slips, and cheers were raised as she took the water without the +slightest hitch."</p> +<p class='ralign'><cite>Daily News.</cite></p> +</blockquote> + +<p>We gather from the expression, "without the slightest hitch," that +not one of the onlookers made any effort to save the lady.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></p> + +<h2>THOUGHTS ON THE BUDGET.</h2> + +<p class='subtitle smcap'>By a Patriot.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<div class='stanza'> +<span class='smcap'>This</span> twelvemonth at the grindstone I have ground,<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Toiling to meet the toll of profiteers,</span><br /> +And now comes <span class='smcap'>Austen</span>, budgeting around,<br /> +<span class='in1em'>"Comes the blind Fury with the abhorréd shears"</span><br /> +(<span class='smcap'>Milton</span>), and leaves me naked as a poodle,<br /> +Shorn—to the buff—of my laborious boodle. +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +I own it irks me little when he goes<br /> +<span class='in1em'>For fancy weeds and wine of fizzy brands;</span><br /> +But I protest at parting through the nose<br /> +<span class='in1em'>For what the meanest human life demands;</span><br /> +Nothing is sacred from his monstrous paw,<br /> +Not letters, no, nor even usquebaugh. +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +That beverage, which invites to balmy sleep<br /> +<span class='in1em'>(Guerdon of toil), is on the upward ramp;</span><br /> +My harmless doggerel—in itself so cheap—<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Despatched by post will want a larger stamp;</span><br /> +Nor have I any wives or children to<br /> +Abate the mulcting of my revenue.</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +But if you tell me I am asked to bleed<br /> +<span class='in1em'>For England; if, by being rudely tapped,</span><br /> +My modest increment may help at need<br /> +<span class='in1em'>To spare some Office which would else be scrapped;</span><br /> +If my poor fleece of wool by heavy cropping<br /> +Can save the Civil Estimates from dropping;— +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +If I can keep in comfortable ease<br /> +<span class='in1em'>But one superfluous Staff for one week's play;</span><br /> +If from my squalor I may hope to squeeze<br /> +<span class='in1em'>The wherewithal to check for half a day</span><br /> +The untimely razing of a single Hut—<br /> +'Tis well; I will not even murmur "Tut." +</div> +</div><!-- end .poem --> + +<p class='ralign'>O. S.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>A TRYING DAY IN MEDIÆVAL TIMES.</h2> + +<p><span class='smcap'>The</span> public torturer hurried home in an +irritable frame of mind. The day had been for him one long round of +annoyances. When he commenced his duties that morning, already +exasperated by the thought that if the drought continued the produce of +his tiny patch of ground would be completely ruined, he was aggrieved to +find that far more than his fair share of a recently arrived batch of +heretics had been allotted to him. During the midday break for +refreshments his dreamy assistant had allowed the furnace to go out, +bringing upon the torturer's own head a severe censure for the +consequent delay. In the afternoon, glancing occasionally through the +narrow window, he was mortified to see that the promising rain-clouds, +which might yet have saved his cabbages, were dispersing; and then, to +crown all, just as he was finishing for the day he had caught hold of a +pair of pincers a trifle too near the white-hot end and seared his +hand.</p> + +<p>As he approached the cottage which was enshrined in his heart by a +thousand sacred associations as home, the torturer strove to rise +superior to his worries. He whistled bravely as he crossed the threshold +and caressed his wife with his usual tenderness. Intuitively she divined +the bitterness of the mood which lay beneath the torturer's seeming +cheerfulness, but she stifled her curiosity like the wise little woman +she was and hastened to lay his supper before him. Through the progress +of the meal—prepared by her in the way the torturer loved so +well—she diverted him with her lively prattle. And at length, when +she trod on the dog and caused it to give out a long-drawn howl, she +made such a neat allusion to the Chamber and heretics that the torturer +laughed till the tears streamed down his cheeks.</p> + +<p>After the table was cleared the torturer's little blue-eyed girl came +toddling up to him for her usual half-hour's cuddle. It made a beautiful +picture—the little mite with her father's merry eyes and her +mother's rosebud mouth, sitting on the torturer's knee, her golden hair +mingling with his beard. And how her silvery laugh brightened the place +as she played her favourite game of stretching her rag doll on a toy +model of a rack.</p> + +<p>The sound of rain outside brought the torturer and his wife to the +door. As they stood side by side watching the downpour the last vestige +of the torturer's ill-humour passed away. This rain would mean a record +year for his cabbages, and would do wonders for his beans, which were +already a long way more forward than those of the executioner.</p> + +<p>He realised now that he had allowed the mishaps of the day to worry +him unduly. After all, his hand had suffered little more than a scorch +and no longer pained him, and, although the censure he had received in +the Chamber and the possible consequences had been very disquieting, yet +he was now able to assure himself and his wife that if henceforth he +kept his assistant from wool-gathering all would be well.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he fell back trembling from the threshold, his face blanched +with terror. A large rain-drop had splashed on his forehead, reminding +him abruptly that before coming home that evening he had neglected to +fill the water-dripping apparatus, which might be required at dawn for +the more obstinate of the heretics.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>TALL TALK.</h2> + +<p><span class='smcap'>The</span> fact that the Bishop-Elect +of <span class='smcap'>Pretoria</span>, the Rev. +<span class='smcap'>Neville Talbot</span>, is no less than six feet six inches high, +surpassing his predecessor by two inches, has been freely +commented on in the Press. Anxious to ascertain from +leaders of public opinion the true significance of the appointment, +Mr. Punch has been at pains to collect their views. +How divergent and even contradictory they are may be +gathered from the following selection:—</p> + +<p>Sir <span class='smcap'>Martin Conway</span>, the Apostle of +Altitude, as he has been recently denominated, welcomed the appointment +of Bishop <span class='smcap'>Talbot</span> as a good omen for the +campaign which he is so ably conducting. "Nothing," he remarks, "has +impressed me so much in the works of <span class='smcap'>Tennyson</span> +as the line, 'We needs must love the highest when we see it.' Mountain +or building or man, it is all the same. I never felt so happy in all my +travels in South America as when I was in Patagonia, the home of tall +men and the giant sloth. At all costs we should recognise and cultivate +the human skyscraper."</p> + +<p>The Bishop of <span class='smcap'>Hereford</span> +(Dr. <span class='smcap'>Hensley Henson</span>) expressed the hope that +the appointment of bishops would not be governed solely by an +anthropometric standard. It would be a misfortune if the impression were +created that preferment to the episcopal bench was confined to High +Churchmen.</p> + +<p>The Editor of <i>The Times</i> declined to dogmatize on the subject. +He pointed out however that the average height of the Yugo-Slavs +exceeded that of the Welsh. The claims of small nations could not, of +course, be overlooked, but he considered it as little short of a +calamity when a Great Power had an undersized Prime Minister. Short men +liked short cuts, but, as <span class='smcap'>Bacon</span> said, the +shortest way is commonly the foulest.</p> + +<p>Dr. <span class='smcap'>Robert Bridges</span> (the Poet-Laureate) +writes to say that, having given special study to the hexameter, he was +much interested to find that the measure now in vogue amongst bishops +was that of six feet and over. He hoped +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +to treat the subject exhaustively in his forthcoming treatise +on Ecclesiastical Prosody.</p> + +<p>Colonel <span class='smcap'>L. C. Amery</span>, M.P., strongly +deprecated the attempt to identify excessive height with extreme +efficiency. In the election to Fellowships at All Souls no height limit +was imposed. <span class='smcap'>Napoleon</span> and the late +Lord <span class='smcap'>Roberts</span> were both small men, and he +believed that the remarkable elusiveness displayed by +Colonel <span class='smcap'>Lawrence</span> in the War was greatly +facilitated by his diminutive stature. The testimony of literature +throughout the ages was almost unanimous in its condemnation of giants. +He had never heard of a small ogre. On the subject +of <span class='smcap'>Shakespeare's</span> height he could not speak +with assurance, but <span class='smcap'>Keats</span> was only just over +five feet. Jumbomania, or the worship of mammoth dimensions, was a +modern disease. Far better was the philosophy crystallised in such +immortal sayings as "Love me little, love me long," and "Infinite riches +in a little room."</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class='smcap'>Mallaby-Deeley</span>, M.P., observed that, +man being an imitative animal and bishops being regarded by many as good +examples, there seemed to him a serious danger of an epidemic of what he +might call Brobdingnagitis. Fortunately the results would not be +immediately apparent, otherwise he would be compelled to raise his +tariff for cheap suits. A rise of six inches in the average height of +his customers would throw out all his calculations and eat up the modest +margin of profit which he now allowed himself.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></p> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:504px'> +<a href='images/i-324.png'> +<img src='images/i-324th.png' alt='' +title='Click for larger image' width='504' height='600' /> +</a> + +<h3>A DISTURBER OF THE PEACE.</h3> + +<p><span class='smcap'>Entente Policeman</span> (<i>to Germany +Militant</i>). "ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE THAT STUFF OFF OR MUST I DO IT FOR +YOU?"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:700px'> +<a href='images/i-324b.png'> +<img src='images/i-324bth.png' alt='' +title='Click for larger image' width='700' height='474' /> +</a> + +<p><i>Café Genius.</i> "<span class='smcap'>The fact is we make +ourselves too cheap. Of course the public pays to see our pictures, but +the blighters can come and see US for nothing</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<blockquote><p>"The weather of the week has been characteristic of the +month. A dawn breaks with a fair sunset."—<cite>Scotch +Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>Of course this happens only very far North.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>SAFETY PLAY.</h2> + +<p class='center subtitle'>(<i>According to local legend, Whitby Abbey possesses a +ghost which only appears in a blaze of sunshine</i>).</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<div class='stanza'> +<span class='smcap'>Men</span> there may be so immune from timidity<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Never a spectre could fill them with fright,</span><br /> +Men who could keep their accustomed placidity<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Were they to meet in the gloom of the night</span><br /> +Lady Hermione tramping the corridor,<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Wicked Sir Guy with his fetters adrag,</span><br /> +Or a plebeian who shrieked something horrid or<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Carried his head in a vanity bag.</span><br /> +<br /> +</div> +<div class='stanza'> +Not such am I. Every hair at the vertical,<br /> +<span class='in1em'>I should resort to hysterical screams</span><br /> +Did a diaphanous Lady (or Sir) tickle<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Me on the cheek in the midst of my dreams;</span><br /> +Yet when, at Yule, I hear people converse on all<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Manner of spooks round the log in the grate,</span><br /> +Often I wish that I too had a personal<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Psychic experience I could relate.</span><br /> +<br /> +</div> +<div class='stanza'> +I am a coward when midnight looms murkily,<br /> +<span class='in1em'>But when the sunlight of noon's at its best</span><br /> +I could face calmly—I'd even say perkily—<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Nebulous figures as well as the rest;</span><br /> +So I'll to Whitby, and (on the hypothesis<br /> +<span class='in1em'>That she'll obligingly come to me there)</span><br /> +Wait in its abbey (see text). By my troth, this is<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Just such a ghost as I'm ready to dare.</span><br /> +</div> +</div><!-- end .poem --> + +<hr /> + +<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></p> + +<div class='i-flright' style='width:413px; +border-left:2px solid; +border-bottom:3px double; +padding-left:1em; +padding-bottom:.5em; +margin-left:1em;'> + +<a href='images/i-325.png'> +<img src='images/i-325th.png' alt='' +title='Click for larger image' width='413' height='600' /> +</a> + +<p><i>Assistant.</i> "<span class='smcap'>I'm afraid we're right out of +moustache brushes, Sir, but that's an eyebrow brush, and it would, I +think, serve the purpose</span>."</p> +</div> + +<h2>MASCULINE MODES.</h2> + +<p class='center subtitle'><span class='smcap'>By Beau Brummel</span>.</p> + +<p><span class='smcap'>The</span> news that the price of lounge suits +will have risen to twenty-four pounds by the autumn has created +something of a sartorial panic in the City and the West End.</p> + +<p>Famous old wardrobes are being broken up on all sides by owners +anxious to acquire fresh clothing before it is too late, whilst the +small properties thus created find eager tenants amongst those who +cannot afford a new outfit at all.</p> + +<p>Many tailors who have built new suits are beginning to dispose of +them on three or five year repairing leases, and possession of these may +sometimes be secured from the present occupiers on payment of a +substantial premium.</p> + +<p>Gentlemen possessing both town and country sets of suitings are in +many cases letting the latter in order to come up to London for the +season, whilst others are resorting to various economical artifices to +meet the crisis. Plus four golf knickers, let down, make admirable +wedding trousers for a short man, and many are the old college blazers +dyed black and doing duty as natty pea-jackets.</p> + +<p>In the City, of course, fustian and corduroys are almost the only +wear, and there is much divergence of opinion on the Stock Exchange as +to the best knot for spotted red neckerchiefs and the proper way of +tying the difficult little bow beneath the knees.</p> + +<p>In Parliament, where of course the old costly fashions have long been +out of vogue, the change is equally noticeable. +Lord <span class='smcap'>Robert Cecil</span>, for instance, habitually +wears the white canvas suit in which Mr. <span class='smcap'>Augustus +John</span> painted him; Lord <span class='smcap'>Birkenhead</span> +mounts the Woolsack in an old cassock, which, as he points out, not only +allows a very scanty attire underneath it, but gives him particular +confidence in elucidating St. Matthew; while +the <span class='smcap'>Prime Minister</span> himself set off for San +Remo in a simple set of striped sackcloth dittos. Many Members are +having their old pre-war morning coats turned; Mr. +<span class='smcap'>Winston Churchill</span> in machine-gun overalls, +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Mallaby-Deeley</span> self-dressed, +Sir <span class='smcap'>Edward Carson</span> in a simple union suit, are +conspicuous figures, and Mr. <span class='smcap'>Horatio +Bottomley</span> by a whimsical yet thrifty fancy often attends the +House in the humble attire of the Weaver in <i>A Midsummer Night's +Dream</i>.</p> + +<p>Even in the Welsh collieries it is becoming the habit to go down the +pits in rough home-spun, and reserving the top hat, morning coat and +check trousers for striking in.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h3>"DENIKIN TIRED.</h3> + +<blockquote><p class='center'>LOOKING FOR A LITTLE HOUSE IN ENGLAND."</p> + +<p class='ralign'><cite>Evening Standard.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>The gallant General is not the only one who is worn out with this +hopeless task.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<blockquote><p>"Sir John Cadman, head of the British Oil Department, has +left Birmingham for San Remo."—<cite>Evening +Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>Was this the last hope of restoring calm to the "troubled +waters"?</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<blockquote><p>"He has represented Lowestoft at St. Stephen's—one +of the most important fishing centres in the country—for many +years past."</p> + +<p class='ralign'><cite>Daily Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>The House of Commons seems to have been confused with Izaak Walton +Heath.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<h3>"LADIES' GOLF AT RANELAGH.</h3> + +<blockquote><p>Miss —— played badly and tore up her card as +well as many other ladies of note."</p> + +<p class='ralign'><cite>Provincial Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>But it is hoped that this method of thinning out the competitors will +not be generally resorted to.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<h3>"MURAL TEACHING.</h3> + +<blockquote><p>Speaking at Manchester last night Lord Haldane advocated +a great and new national reform by enabling the Universities to train +the best teachers of their own level to go out and do extra Mural +teaching on a huge scale."</p> + +<p class='ralign'><cite>Provincial Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>We gather that in our contemporary's opinion it is high time that our +Universities recognised "the writing on the wall."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></p> + +<h3>A VANISHED SPECIES.</h3> + +<p><span class='smcap'>The</span> great auk is but a memory; the bittern +booms more rarely in our eastern marshes; and now they tell me +Brigadiers are extinct. Handsomest and liveliest of our indigenous +fauna, the bright beady eye, the flirt of the trench coat-tail through +the undergrowth, the glint of red betwixt the boughs, the sudden +piercing pipe—how well I knew them, how often I have lain hidden +in thickets and behind hedgerows to study them more closely. How +inquisitive the creature was, yet how seldom would it feed from the +hand. And now, it seems, they are gone.</p> + +<p>Vainly I rack my brains to envisage the manner of their passing. Is +there to be nothing left but silence and a shadow or a specimen in a +dusty case of glass preserved in creosol and stuffed with lime? Or did +not the Brigadiers rather, when they felt their last hour was upon them, +retire like the elephants of the jungle to some distant spot and shuffle +off the mortal coil in the midst of Salisbury Plain or (for so I still +picture it despite the ravages of a rude commercialism) the vast +solitude of Slough?</p> + +<p>Or it may be that they underwent some classic metamorphosis, +translated to a rainless paradise, where they dreamed of battalions for +ever inspected and the general salute eternally blown.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p> +"And there, they say, two bright and agéd snakes<br /> Who once +were brigadiers of infantry<br /> Bask in the sun."<br /> +</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Anyhow, I cannot believe that ex-Brigadiers die. They only fade away. +Fade away, I think, like the Cheshire Cat in <i>Alice in Wonderland</i>, +leaving at the last not a grin but a scowl behind them. "<i>Brigadiers +will fade away</i>," I imagine, ran the instruction from the Army +Council, "<i>passing the vanishing point in the following +order:—</i></p> + +<ul> +<li>(1) <i>Spurs.</i></li> +<li>(2) <i>Field Boots.</i></li> +<li>(3) <i>Main body.</i></li> +<li>(4) <i>Brass hat.</i></li> +<li>(5) <i>Scowl.</i>"</li> +</ul> + +<p>But oh, how they will be missed, with their insatiable hunger for +replies! I remember one in particular, very fierce and black-moustached, +who used to pop up suddenly from behind a Loamshire hedge with an +enormous note-book in his hand and say to unhappy company commanders, +"The situation is so-and-so and so-and-so; now let me hear you give your +orders." And the Company-Commander, who would have liked to read +through <i>Infantry Training</i> once or twice and then hold a sort of +inter-allied conference with his Platoon-Commander, putting the Company +Sergeant-Major in the chair, felt that after frightfulness of this kind +mere actual war would probably be child's-play. And yet they tell me he +was a pleasant enough fellow in the Mess, this Brigadier, and liked good +cooking. Now I come to think of it, he faded away before the War came to +an end. He faded away into a Major-General.</p> + +<p>How different from this sort was the type that could always be +placated by a glittering bayonet charge or a thoroughly smart salute! I +remember one of this kind who came charging across the landscape, his +Staff Captain at his heels, to a point where he saw a friend of mine +apparently lost in meditation and sloth. Unfortunately the great man's +horse betrayed him as he tried to jump a low hedge, and, when he had +clambered up again and arrived in a rather tumbled condition to ask +indignantly what had happened to the scouts, "They have established a +number of hidden observation posts," my friend replied, keeping his +presence of mind, "and are making an exact report of everything that +transpires on the enemy's front," and he waved his arm towards the scene +of the catastrophe. It was not thought necessary to examine their +notes.</p> + +<p>In France Brigadiers were mainly divided into the sort that came +round the front line themselves, and the sort that sent the +Brigade-major or somebody else who had broken out into a frontal +inflammation to do it for them. It is difficult to say +which <i>genus</i> was the more alarming.</p> + +<p>The first was apt to exhibit its contempt for danger by strolling +about in perilous places for five minutes and leaving them to be shelled +in consequence for a week.</p> + +<p>The second sort was apt to issue orders depending for fulfilment on a +faulty map reference or a landmark which had been carelessly removed by +an H.E. shell. One of the most <i>intransigeant</i> of this kind whom I +remember could always, however, be softened by souvenirs; a cast-off +Uhlan's lance or the rifle of a Bosch sniper went far to console him for +the barrenness of a patrol report. I feel sure he must have faded at +Slough.</p> + +<p>But it was in battle that their wild appetite for information was +most amazingly displayed. At moments when nobody knew where anybody else +was or whether the ground underneath him was likely to remain in that +sector more than a few moments or be detached and transferred to +another, they would send by telephone or by a runner wild messages for +an exact <i>résumé</i> of the situation. It was at such +times, I think, that some of those eminent war correspondents recently +knighted would have done yeoman service in the front line. I can imagine +them telephoning somewhat after this manner, in answer to the querulous +voice:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"All hell has broken loose in front of us. The earth +shivers as if a volcano is beneath our feet. The pock-marked ridges in +the distance are covered with the advancing waves of field-grey forms. +Our boys are going up happily shouting and singing to the battle. Sorry, +I didn't quite catch what you said about being in touch on the right. +The brazen roar of the cannon is mingled with the intermittent rattle of +innumerable machine guns. Eh, what? What?"</p></blockquote> + +<p>Yes, I think the Brigadiers would have liked that. But, alas, it +could not be. And now they have gone, with their passion for questions, +never to return, or never till the next A.C.I. cancels the last.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<div class='stanza'> +"And now no sacred staff shall break to blossom,<br /> +No choral salutation lure to light," +</div> +</div> + +<p>as <span class='smcap'>Swinburne</span> put it; or</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<div class='stanza'> +"All the birds of the air fell a-sighin' and a-sobbin'<br /> +When they heard of the death of poor Cock Robin," +</div> +</div> + +<p>as No. 1 platoon of A Company used to sing. Ah, well.</p> + +<p class='ralign'><span class='smcap'>Evoe</span>.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>A COUNTRY NIGHT PIECE.</h2> + +<div class='poem'> +<div class='stanza'> +<span class='smcap'>The</span> darkness my footsteps were swathed +in<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Is drenched with a luminous spray;</span><br /> +For a chain's length the kerbstone is bathed in<br /> +<span class='in1em'>A spindrift of silvery grey;</span><br /> +By the roadside is mistily glimmering<br /> +<span class='in1em'>A wall phosphorescent with pearls,</span><br /> +All glancing and dancing and shimmering<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Like star-dust that swirls.</span> +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +Where the high-road dips down to the dingle,<br /> +<span class='in1em'>A coppice in arabesque gleams</span><br /> +Whose traceries melt and commingle,<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Like ghost trees in moon-fretted streams,</span><br /> +As the tremulous glamour sweeps o'er it<br /> +<span class='in1em'>And skirts the inscrutable sky;</span><br /> +Then, Fairyland flitting before it,<br /> +<span class='in1em'>The car flashes by.</span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h3>Sport in Ireland.</h3> + +<blockquote><p>"In a collision between his vehicle and a tramcar +yesterday a passenger was injured and removed to hospital.</p> + +<p>For other Sporting News see Page 6."</p> + +<p class='ralign'><cite>Irish Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<blockquote><p class='center'>"——'S SIPPING +AGENCY, <span class='smcap'>Ltd</span>."</p> + +<p class='ralign'><i>Le Réveil</i> (<i>Beyrouth</i>).</p></blockquote> + +<p>A popular establishment, we feel confident.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></p> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:700px'> +<a href='images/i-327.png'> +<img src='images/i-327th.png' alt='' +title='Click for larger image' width='700' height='526' /> +</a> + +<h3>MANNERS AND MODES.</h3> + +<p class='center subtitle'>PAVLOVITIS.</p> + +<p>[It is announced that at a coming Charity Ball there will be a dance +to the music of <span class='smcap'>Saint-Säens'</span> <i>Le +Cygne</i>. Our artist anticipates the moment of the Dying Swan's +collapse.]</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:700px'> +<a href='images/i-327b.png'> +<img src='images/i-327bth.png' alt='' title='Click for larger image' +width='700' height='532' /> +</a> + +<p><i>Host</i> (<i>to friend who feels faint.</i>) +"<span class='smcap'>Now, what <i>you</i> want is a good stiff glass +of</span>"—(<i>suddenly remembering the +Budget</i>)—"<span class='smcap'>soda</span>!"</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>THE TAKING OF TIMOTHY.</h2> + +<p><span class='smcap'>Tea</span> was over, a clearing was made of the +articles of more fragile virtue, and Timothy, entering in state, was +off-loaded from his nurse's arms into his mother's.</p> + +<p>"Isn't he looking sweet to-day?" said Suzanne. "It's really time we +had him photographed."</p> + +<p>"Why?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, why do people as a rule get photographed?"</p> + +<p>"That," I said, "is a question I have often asked myself, but without +finding a satisfactory answer. What do you propose to do with the +copies?"</p> + +<p>"There are dozens of people who'll be only too glad to have them. +Aunt Caroline, for instance——"</p> + +<p>"Aunt Caroline one day took me into her confidence and showed me what +she called her scrap-heap. It was a big box full of photographs that had +been presented to her from time to time, and she calculated that if she +had had them all framed, as their donors had doubtless expected, it +would have cost her some hundreds of pounds. While her back was turned I +looked through the collection. Your photograph was there—and mine, +Suzanne."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, we shall want one to keep ourselves. Think what a pleasure +it will be to him when he grows up to see what he looked like as a tiny +baby."</p> + +<p>I called to mind an ancestral album belonging to my own family that I +had carefully kept guarded from Suzanne precisely for the reason that it +contained various presentments of myself at early ages in +mirth-compelling garments and attitudes; but of course I could not now +urge that chamber of horrors in opposition to her demand.</p> + +<p>"Besides," she went on, "we needn't buy any copies at all if we don't +like them. Snapper and Klick are continually worrying me to have Baby +taken. Once a week regularly, ever since the announcement of his birth +appeared, they've rung me up to ask when he will give them a sitting. +Sometimes it's Snapper and sometimes it's Klick; I don't know which is +which, but one of them has adenoids. We can't do any harm by taking him +there, because they say in their circulars they present two copies free +and there's no obligation to purchase any."</p> + +<p>"I wonder how they make that pay?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Suzanne, "they keep the copyright, you know, and then when +he does anything famous they send it round to the illustrated papers, +which pay them no end of money for permission to reproduce it."</p> + +<p>"But by the time <i>he</i> does anything famous," I objected, "won't +this photograph be a trifle out of date? Supposing, for instance, in +twenty or thirty years' time he marries a Movie Queen——"</p> + +<p>Just then the telephone-bell rang, and Suzanne, as is her wont, +rushed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg +328]</a></span> answer it, dropping Timothy into my arms on the way.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" I heard her say. "Yes; speaking. Yes, I was just going to +write. Yes; that will do quite well. What? Yes, about eleven. +Good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Not another appointment with the dressmaker?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"No. Curiously enough it was Klick again—or Snapper—and +his adenoids are worse than ever; I suppose it's the damp weather gets +into them. So I said we'd take Baby to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I don't quite see the connection," I said. "Besides, aren't they +catching?"</p> + +<p>"Now you're being funny again. Save that up for to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" I asked in some alarm. "And why did you say +<i>we'd</i> take Baby?"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course you've got to come too. You can always make him laugh +better than anyone else; it's your +<i>métier</i>. And I do want his delicious +little dimples to come out."</p> + +<p>"Do I understand that I'm to go through my <i>répertoire</i> +in cold blood and under the unsympathetic gaze of Messrs. Snapper and +Klick? Suzanne, it can't be done."</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense! You've only got to sing <i>Pop Goes the Weasel</i> in +a falsetto voice and make one of those comic faces you do so well, and +he'll gurgle at once. Well, that's settled. We start at half-past ten +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The coming ordeal so preyed upon my mind that I spent a most restless +night, during which, so Suzanne afterwards told me, I announced at +frequent intervals the popping of the weasel. The day dawned with a +steady drizzle of rain, and, after a poor attempt at breakfast, I +scoured the neighbourhood for a taxi. Having at last run one to earth, I +packed the expedition into it—Suzanne, Timothy, Timothy's nurse +and Barbara (who begged so hard to be allowed to "come and see Father +make faces at Baby" that Suzanne weakly consented).</p> + +<p>Arrived at our destination, Suzanne bade the driver wait. "We shall +never find another cab to take us home in this downpour," she said, "and +we shan't be kept long."</p> + +<p>We were ushered into the studio by a gentleman I now know to have +been Mr. Klick. He aroused my distrust at once by the fact that he did +not wear a velvet coat, and I pointed out this artistic deficiency in a +whisper to Suzanne.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," she whispered back; "we needn't buy any if they're not +good."</p> + +<p>Timothy, who had by now been put straight by his attendant, was +carefully placed on all-fours on a pile of cushions, which he promptly +proceeded to chew. Mr. Klick, on attempting to correct the pose, was +received with a hymn of hate that compelled him to bury his head hastily +in the camera-cloth, and Suzanne arranged the subject so that some of +his more recognisable features became visible.</p> + +<p>"Now then," she said to me, "make him smile."</p> + +<p>With a furtive glance at Mr. Klick, who fortunately was still playing +the ostrich, I essayed a well-tried "face" that had almost invariably +evoked a chuckle from Timothy, even when visitors were present. On this +occasion, however, it failed to produce anything more than a woebegone +pucker that foreshadowed something worse. Hastily I switched off into +another expression, but with no better result.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Father," encouraged +Bar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg +329]</a></span>bara, who had been taking a breathless interest in these +proceedings; "try your funny voice."</p> + +<p>Mr. Klick had emerged from cover and was standing expectantly with +his hand on the cap.</p> + +<p>Dear reader, have you ever been called upon to sing <i>Pop Goes the +Weasel</i> in a falsetto voice before a fractious baby, a small but +intensely critical child, a stolidly contemptuous nurse, an agitated +mother and a gaping photographer, with the knowledge that success or +failure hangs upon your lips, and that all the time a diabolical machine +in the street below is scoring threepence against you every minute or +so? Of course you haven't; but possibly you may be able to enter into my +feelings in this hour of trial. With a prickly heat suffusing my whole +body and a melting sensation at the collar I struggled through the +wretched lyric once. Timothy regarded me first with scorn and then with +positive distaste. In desperation I squeaked it out again and yet again, +but each succeeding "pop" only registered another scowl on the face of +my offspring and another threepence on that of the cabman's clock.</p> + +<p>I was maddened now, and Suzanne sought to restrain me; but I shook +her off violently and went on again <i>da capo</i>, and was just giving +vent for about the seventeenth time to a particularly excruciating "pop" +when the door of the studio opened and a benevolent-looking old +gentleman entered. He gazed at us all in wonderment, and, overcome by +mingled shame and exhaustion, I sank into a chair and popped no +more.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mr. Snapper," said Mr. Klick, "we were just trying to get this +young gentleman amused."</p> + +<p>Mr. Snapper, who, I should imagine, was the adenoid victim, looked +first at me and next at Timothy, and then blew his nose vigorously. It +was not an ordinary blast, but had a peculiarly musical <i>timbre</i>, +very much like the note of a mouth-organ. It certainly attracted +Timothy's attention, for he at once looked round and the glimmer of a +smile appeared upon his tear-stained face.</p> + +<p>"That's it!" cried Barbara excitedly. "Do it again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>please</i> do," entreated Suzanne.</p> + +<p>Mr. Snapper, adenoids or no adenoids, was a sportsman. He quickly +understood what was required of him and blew his nose again and again. +And with each blow Timothy's smile became wider, the dimples grew +deeper, and Mr. Klick at the camera was pushing in and pulling out +plates for all he was worth. At last Mr. Snapper could blow no more, and +with profuse thanks we gathered ourselves, together and departed. On our +arrival home the cabman, fortunately, was induced to accept a cheque in +payment.</p> + +<p>The photographs have turned out a great success. One in particular, +which shows the first smile breaking through Timothy's tears, is of a +very happy character, and Mr. Snapper has asked and received permission +to send it to the illustrated Press under the title, "Sunshine and +Shower"; and Aunt Caroline has not only been given a copy, <i>but has +had it framed</i>.</p> + +<p>Now, when I am called upon to produce a laugh from Timothy, I no +longer make faces or "pop." I have discovered how to blow my nose like a +mouth-organ. It's trying work, but the effect is magical.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<div class='i-flright' style='width:345px; +padding-left:1em; +margin-left:1em;'> + +<a href='images/i-329.png'> +<img src='images/i-329th.png' alt='' title='Click for larger +image' width='345' height='500' /> +</a> +<p class='smcap center'>"Y' ever had a barf, Billy?"</p> +<p class='smcap center'>"Yus, I onst fell in the Serpentine."</p> +</div> + +<p>Redintegratio Amoris.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The Public is hereby notified that myself and my Wife +Millicent —— is together again. I got hasty and advertised +her with no just cause. <span class='smcap'>Fitz</span> +——."—<cite>West Indian Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<blockquote><p>"This telegram had been preceded by others, which were, +unfortunately, contrary to instructions at the Post Office, delivered at +this office, which was closed, and, therefore, not +opened."—<cite>Irish Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>That, of course, would be so.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<blockquote><p>"At a meeting of the Child Study Society on Thursday, +April 29th, at 6 p.m., Sir A. E. Shipley, G.B.E., D.Sc., F.R.S., will +give a lecture, illustrated by lantern slides, on biting insects and +children."</p> + +<p class='ralign'><cite>British Medical Journal.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>And we had always thought him such a kind man!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></p> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:700px'> +<a href='images/i-330.png'> +<img src='images/i-330th.png' alt='' +title='Click for larger image' width='700' height='525' /> +</a> + +<p><i>Gloomy Artist.</i> "<span class='smcap'>Yes, I gave her all my +last year's sketches for her jumble-sale in the East-End. Told her to +get rid of them for anything she liked—half-a-crown or a couple of +bob</span>——" (<i>Pauses for exclamations of horror at the +sacrifice.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Friend.</i> "<span class='smcap'>And did they sell</span>?"</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>THE MINXIAD.</h2> + +<p class='subtitle'>(<i>Being the scenario of a modern doggerel Epic.</i>)</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<div class='stanza'> +<span class='smcap'>The</span> lady I choose for the theme of my +lay<br /> +Is a portent "conspicuous even to-day,"<br /> +For, though she was freely condemned and abhorred,<br /> +She was never suppressed and she can't be ignored. +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +Her parents, most anxious to give a good time<br /> +To their children, if only they helped them to climb,<br /> +Unconsciously aiding the new Self-Expression<br /> +Left all from the start to their daughter's discretion.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +No nurse was allowed to rebuke her or warn her,<br /> +No governess put her to stand in a corner;<br /> +At six she revealed a peculiar joy<br /> +In the taste of old brandy, and dressed like a boy;<br /> +At eight she had +read <span +class='smcap'>Casanova</span>, <span class='smcap'>Cellini</span>,<br /> +And driven a toasting-fork into a tweeny;<br /> +At ten she indited and published a story<br /> +Described by <i>The Leadenhall News</i> as "too gory."<br /> +One governess after another was tried,<br /> +But none of them stopped and one suddenly died.<br /> +Then she went for a while to a wonderful school<br /> +Which was run on the plan of the late +Mrs. <span class='smcap'>Boole</span>; +<br /> But no "ethical safeguards" could ever restrain<br /> +So impulsive a heart and so fertile a brain;<br /> +And a fire, for the kindling of which she was held<br /> +Responsible, led to her being expelled. +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +On the strength of her fine pyromaniac rage<br /> +For a season or two she appeared on the stage;<br /> +Her dancing was crude and her voice was a blank,<br /> +But she carried it off by superlative swank,<br /> +And married a swarthy and elderly milli-<br /> +Onaire who was killed in an earthquake in Chile.<br /> +A militant during the Suffrage campaign,<br /> +In the War she adopted the cause of Sinn Fein,<br /> +And, according to credible witness, was seen<br /> +In the thick of the fighting at Easter, '16.<br /> +Escaping arrest by a dexterous dodge<br /> +She became a disciple of <span class='smcap'>Oliver Lodge</span>,<br /> +Gave lectures on Swedish and Swiss callisthenics,<br /> +Eurhythmics (<span class='smcap'>Dalcroze</span>) and Ukrainian +eugenics.<br /> +Last, married in haste to a Bolshevist don,<br /> +She dyed her hair green and was painted +by <span class='smcap'>John</span>,<br /> +Eloped with a squat anthropophagous Dago<br /> +And finds a fit home in Tierra del Fuego. +</div> +</div><!-- end .poem --> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h3>"TEMPERANCE WOMEN OF ALL LANDS.</h3> + +<p class='subtitle'>ONE PROPOSES KNEELING OUTSIDE HOUSE OF COMMONS."</p> + +<p class='ralign'><i>"Star" Headlines.</i></p> + +<p>We have read the article carefully, but the Member to whom this +Leap-Year proposal was made is not mentioned.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg +331]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg +332]</a></span></p> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:456px;'> +<a href='images/i-332.png'> +<img src='images/i-332th.png' alt='' +title='Click for larger image' width='456' height='600' /> +</a> + +<h3>IN A CUSHY CAUSE.</h3> + +<p><span class='smcap'>Over-shorn Sheep</span>. "OH, SO <i>THAT'S</i> +WHERE IT GOES TO, IS IT?"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg +333]</a></span></p> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<p><i>Monday, April 19th.</i>—Primrose day in the House of Commons +was more honoured in the breach than the observance. Barely a dozen +Members sported Lord <span class='smcap'>Beaconfield's</span> favourite +flower (for salads), and one of them found himself so uncomfortably +conspicuous that shortly after the proceedings opened he furtively +transferred his buttonhole to his coat-pocket. Among those who remained +faithful were Lord <span class='smcap'>Lambourne</span> (in the Peers' +Gallery), who had for this occasion substituted a posy of primroses for +his usual picotee, and, quaintly enough, +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Hogge</span>, who had not hitherto been +suspected of Disraelian sympathies.</p> + +<div class='i-flright' style='width:293px;'> +<a href='images/i-333a.png'> +<img src='images/i-333ath.png' alt='' +title='Click for larger image' width='293' height='400' /> +</a> +<div class='poem'> +"A primrose by a river's brim<br /> +A yellow primrose was to him<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And it was nothing more."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Mr. <span class='smcap'>Hogge</span> had not hitherto +been suspected of Disraelian sympathies."</p> +</div> + +<p>For a Budget-day the attendance was smaller than usual. But it was +large enough to prevent Mr. <span class='smcap'>Billing</span> from +securing his usual seat. The <span class='smcap'>Speaker</span>, +however, did not smile upon his suggestion that he should occupy one of +the vacant places on the Front Opposition Bench, and curtly informed him +that there was plenty of room in the Gallery. Thither +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Billing</span> betook himself, and thence he +addressed a question which Mr. <span class='smcap'>Hope</span>, the +Minister concerned, was unable to catch, his ears not being attuned to +sounds from that altitude.</p> + +<p>Otherwise Question-time was chiefly remarkable for the loud and +continued burst of cheering from the Coalition benches which greeted +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Will Thorne's</span> suggestion (<i>à +propos</i> of <span class='smcap'>Lenin's</span> industrial +conscription) that "it would be a very good thing to make all the idlers +in this country work." Mr. <span class='smcap'>Thorne</span> seemed +quite embarrassed by the popularity of his proposal, which did not, +however, appear to arouse the same enthusiasm among his colleagues of +the Labour Party.</p> + +<p>It was four o'clock when Mr. <span class='smcap'>Chamberlain</span> +rose to "open the Budget" (he clings to that old-fashioned phrase), and +just after six when he completed a speech which +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Asquith</span> (himself an ex-Chancellor of the +Exchequer) justly praised for its lucidity and comprehensiveness.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class='smcap'>Chamberlain</span> could not on this occasion +congratulate himself (as his predecessors were wont to do) on the +accuracy of his forecasts. He had two shots last year, in Spring and +Autumn, but both times was many millions out in his calculations. +Fortunately all the mistakes were on the right side, and he came out +with a surplus of one hundred and sixty-four millions (about as much as +the whole revenue of the country when first he went to the Exchequer) to +devote to the redemption of debt.</p> + +<p>But that did not content him. For an hour by the clock he piled up +the burdens on the taxpayer. His arguments were not always consistent. +It is not quite easy to see why, because ladies have taken to smoking +cigarettes, an extra heavy duty should be imposed on imported cigars; or +how the appearance of "a new class of champagne-drinkers" justifies a +further tax upon the humble consumer of "dinner-claret."</p> + +<p>Nor is it easy to follow the process of reasoning by which +the <span class='smcap'>Chancellor</span> convinced himself that the +Excess Profits Tax, which last year he described as a great deterrent to +enterprise and industry, only, justifiable as "a temporary measure," +should now be not merely continued but increased by fifty per cent.</p> + +<div class='i-flleft' style='width:302px'> +<a href='images/i-333b.png'> +<img src='images/i-333bth.png' alt='' title='Click for +larger image' width='302' height='400' /> +</a> + +<p><i>Mr. <span class='smcap'>Chamberlain</span>.</i> +"<span class='smcap'>I don't care what anybody says about this blooming +tree (I use the epithet in its literal sense); I shall let it keep on +for another year</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>This proposal seemed to excite more hostility than any other. But the +single taxers were annoyed by the final disappearance of the Land Values +Duties (the only original feature of Mr. <span class='smcap'>Lloyd +George's</span> epoch-making first Budget). +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Raffan</span> pictured their author being +dragged at the Tory chariot-wheels, and +Dr. <span class='smcap'>Murray</span> observed that the land-taxes were +evidently not allowed "on the other side of the Rubicon."</p> + +<p>The general view was that the Government had shown courage in +imposing fresh taxation, but would have saved themselves and the country +a great deal of trouble if they had been equally bold in reducing +expenditure.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday, April 20th.</i>—When a local band at Cologne +recently played the "Wacht am Rhein" the British officers present stood +up, on the ground (as they explained to a surprised German) +that <i>they</i> were now the Watch on the Rhine. But are they? +According to Colonel <span class='smcap'>Burn</span> the Army of the +Rhine is now so short of men that it is compelled to employ German +civilians as batmen, clerks and even telephone-operators; and +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Churchill</span> was fain to admit that it would +not surprise him to hear that "some assistance has been derived from the +local population."</p> + +<p>The Carnarvonshire police are peeved because they are not allowed to +belong to any secret society except the Freemasons, and consequently are +debarred from membership of the Royal Ante-diluvian Order of Buffaloes. +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Shortt</span> disclaimed responsibility, but it +is expected that the Member for the Carnarvon Boroughs, who is +notoriously sympathetic to Ante-diluvians (is not his +motto <i>Après moi le déluge</i>?), will take up the +matter on his return from San Remo.</p> + +<p>Having had time to consider the Budget proposals in detail +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Asquith</span> was less complimentary and more +critical. Good-humoured chaff of the <span class='smcap'>Prime +Minister</span> on the demise of the Land Values Duties before they had +yielded the "rare and refreshing fruits" promised ten years ago, was +followed by a reasoned condemnation of the proposed increase in the wine +duties, which he believed would diminish consumption and cause +international complications with our Allies. +The <span class='smcap'>Chancellor</span>, again, had thought too much +of revenue and too little of economy. He urged him—in a +magnificent mixture of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" +id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> metaphors—to cut away those +parasitic excrescences upon the normal administrative system of the +country which now constituted an open tap.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday, April 21st.</i>—The abolition of the +Guide-lecturer at Kew Gardens was deplored by +Lord <span class='smcap'>Sudeley</span> and other Peers. But as, +according to Lord <span class='smcap'>Lee</span>, out of a million +visitors last year only five hundred listened to the Guide—an +average of less than three per lecture—the Government can hardly +be blamed for saving a hundred pounds. Retrenchment, after all, must +begin somewhere.</p> + +<p>Sir <span class='smcap'>Donald Maclean</span> cannot have heard of +this signal example of Government economy or he would not have denounced +Ministers so vehemently for their extravagance. His most specific charge +was that in Mesopotamia they were "spending money like water in looking +for oil."</p> + +<p>In a further defence of the Budget proposals +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Chamberlain</span> disclaimed the notion that it +was the duty of the Chancellor of the Exchequer to denounce in the House +the Estimates which he had approved in Cabinet. His business was to find +the money. Circumstances had altered his attitude to the Excess Profits +Duty, and he was now determined to stick to it. Did not a cynic once say +that nothing succeeds like excess?</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class='smcap'>Barnes</span>, who was loudly cheered on his +return to the House, joined in the cry for economy. "Some departments," +he declared, "existed only because they had existed."</p> + +<p>The country clergy are without doubt the most over-rated persons in +the country—I mean, of course, from a fiscal point of view. +Consequently the House gave a friendly reception to a Bill intended to +relieve them of some of their pecuniary burdens.</p> + +<div class='i-flright' style='width:368px'> +<a href='images/i-334.png'> +<img src='images/i-334th.png' alt='' title='Click for larger + image' width='368' height='450' /> +</a> + +<p>"If, as appears to be the case, it is for the moment more or less +decently interred, its epitaph should be not <i>Reguiescat</i> +but <i>Resurget</i>" (cheers).</p> + +<p><i>Mr. <span class='smcap'>Asquith</span> on the Land Values +Duties.</i></p> +</div> + +<p><i>Thursday, April 22nd.</i>—When Dr. +<span class='smcap'>Macnamara</span> was Secretary to the Admiralty no +Minister was clearer or more direct in his answers. Now that he has +become Minister he has laid aside his quarter-deck manner and adopted +tones of whispering humbleness which hardly reach the Press Gallery.</p> + + +<p>He ought to take example fro Mr. +<span class='smcap'>Stanton</span>, who never leaves the House in doubt +as to what he means. This afternoon, his purpose was to announce that a +certain "Trio" on the Opposition Benches was in league with the forces +of disorder. "Bolshies!" he shouted in a voice that frightened the +pigeons in Palace Yard.</p> + +<p>Later in the evening Mr. <span class='smcap'>Stanton</span> indicated +that unless the salaries of Members of Parliament were raised he should +have seriously to consider the question of returning to his old trade of +a coal-hewer, at which I gathered he could make much more money with an +infinitely smaller exertion of lung-power.</p> + +<p>The vote for Agriculture and Fisheries was supported by Sir +A. <span class='smcap'>Griffith-Boscawen</span> in a speech crammed full +of miscellaneous information. We learned that the Minister once smoked a +pipe of Irish tobacco, and said "Never Again"; that the slipper-limpet, +formerly the terror of the oyster-beds had now by the ingenuity of his +Department been transformed into a valuable source of poultry-food, and +that the roundabout process by which the Germans in bygone days imported +eel-fry from the Severn for their own rivers, and then exported the +full-grown fish for the delectation of East-end dinner-tables, had been +done away with. In the matter of eels this country is now +self-supporting.</p> + +<hr class='half class' /> + +<blockquote><p>"The stock markets showed a good deal of uncertainty this +morning and dealers marked prices lower in many cases to protect +themselves against possible sales on the Budget proposals, particularly +the excess profits duty and the corruption tax."—<cite>Provincial +Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>Mr. <span class='smcap'>Chamberlain</span> omitted to mention the +last-named impost, but no doubt that was his artfulness.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>LITTLE BITS OF LONDON.</h2> + +<p class='smcap subtitle'>"The Bear-Garden."</p> + +<p><span class='smcap'>The</span> authors of the guide-books have +signally failed to discover the really interesting parts of Law-land. I +have looked through several of these works and not one of them refers, +for example, to the "Bear-Garden," which is the place where the +preliminary skirmishes of litigation are carried out. The Bear-Garden is +the name given to it by the legal profession, so I am quite in order in +using the title. In fact, if you want to get to it, you <i>have</i> to +use that title. The proper title would be something like "the place +where Masters in Chambers function at half-past one;" but, if you go +into the Law Courts and ask one of the attendants where that is, he will +say, rather pityingly, "Do you mean the <i>Bear-Garden</i>?" and you +will know at once that you have lost caste. Caste is a thing you should +be very careful of in these days, so the best thing is to ask for the +Bear-Garden straightaway.</p> + +<p>It is in the purlieus of the Law Courts and very hard to find. It is +up a lot of very dingy back-staircases and down a lot of very dingy +passages. The Law Courts are like all our public buildings. The parts +where the public is allowed to go are fairly respectable, if not +beautiful, but the purlieus and the basements and the upper floors are +scenes of unimaginable dinginess and decay. The Law Courts' purlieus are +worse than the Houses of Parliament's purlieus, and it seems to me that +even more disgraceful things are done in them. It only shows you the +danger of Nationalisation.</p> + +<p>On the way to the Bear-Garden you pass the King's Remembrancer's This +is the man who reminds <span class='smcap'>His Majesty</span> about +people's birthdays; and in a large family like that he must be kept +busy. Not far from the King's Remembrancer there is a Commissioner for +Oaths; you can go into his room and have a really good swear for about +half-a-crown. This is cheaper than having it in the street—that +is, if you are a gentleman; for by the Profane Oaths Act, 1745, swearing +and cursing are punishable by a fine of one shilling for every +day-labourer, soldier or seaman; two shillings for every other person +under the degree of a gentleman; and five shillings for every person of +or above the degree of a gentleman. This is not generally known. The +Commissioner of Oaths is a very broad-minded man, and there is literally +no limit to what you may swear before him. +The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg +335]</a></span> only thing is that he insists on your filing it before +you actually say it. This may cause delay; so that if you are feeling +particularly strongly about anything it is probably better to have it +out in the street and risk being taken for a gentleman.</p> + +<p>There are a number of other interesting functionaries on the way to +the Bear-Garden; but we must get on. When you have wandered about in the +purlieus for a long time you will hear a tremendous noise, a sort of +combined snarling and roaring and legal conversation. When you hear +that, you will know that you are very near the bears. They are all +snarling and roaring in a large preliminary arena, where the bears +prepare themselves for the struggle; all round it are smaller cages or +arenæ, where the struggles take place. If possible you ought to go +early, so that you can watch the animals massing. Lawyers, as I have had +occasion to observe before, are the most long-suffering profession in +the country, and the things they do in the Bear-Garden they have to do +in the luncheon-hour, or rather in the luncheon half-hour, between +half-past one and two.</p> + +<p>This accounts perhaps for the extreme frenzy of the proceedings. They +hurry in a frenzy up the back-stairs about 1.25, and they pace up and +down in a frenzy till half-past one. There are all sorts of bears, most +of them rather seedy old bears, with shaggy and unkempt coats. These are +solicitors' clerks, and they all come straight out +of <span class='smcap'>Dickens</span>. They have shiny little +private-school handbags, each inherited, no doubt, through a long line +of ancestral solicitors' clerks; and they all have the draggled sort of +moustache that tells you when it is going to rain. While they are pacing +up and down the arena they all try to get rid of these moustaches by +pulling violently at alternate ends; but the only result is to make it +look more like rain than ever.</p> + +<p>Some of the bears are robust old bears, with well-kept coats and loud +roars; these are solicitors' clerks too, only better fed; or else they +are real solicitors. And a few of the bears are perky young +creatures—in barrister's robes, either for the first time, when +they look very self-conscious, or for the second time, when they look +very self-confident. All the bears are telling each other about their +cases. They are saying, "We are a deceased wife's sister suing <i>in +forma pauperis</i>," or "I am a discharged bankrupt, three times +convicted of perjury, but I am claiming damages under the Diseases of +Pigs Act, 1862," or "You are the crew of a merchant-ship and we are the +editor of a newspaper." Just at first it is rather disturbing to hear +snatches of conversation like that, but there is no real cause for +alarm; they are only identifying themselves with the interests of their +clients; and, when one realises that, one is rather touched.</p> + +<p>At long last one of the keepers at the entrance to the small cages +begins to shout very loudly. It is not at all clear what he is shouting, +but apparently it is the pet-names of the bears, for there is a wild +rush for the various cages. Across the middle of the cage a stout +barricade has been erected, and behind the barricade sits the Master, +pale but defiant. Masters in Chambers are barristers who have not got +proper legal faces, and have had to give up being ordinary barristers on +that account; in the obscurity and +excitement<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg +336]</a></span> of the Bear-Garden nobody notices that their faces are +all wrong. The two chief bears rush at the Master and the other bears +jostle round them, egging them on. When they see that they cannot get at +the Master they begin snarling. One of them snarls quietly out of a long +document about the Statement of Claim. He throws a copy of this at the +Master, and the Master tries to get the hang of it while the bear is +snarling; but the other bear is by now beside himself with rage, and he +begins putting in what are called interlocutory snarls, so that the +Master gets terribly confused, though he doesn't let on.</p> + +<p>By-and-by all pretence of formality and order is put aside and the +battle really begins. At this stage of the proceedings the rule is that +no fewer than two of the protagonists must be roaring at the same time, +of which one must be the Master. But the more general practice is for +all three of them to roar at the same time. Sometimes, it is true, by +sheer roar-power the Master succeeds in silencing one of the bears for a +moment, but he can never be said to succeed in cowing a bear. If anybody +is cowed it is the Master. Meanwhile the lesser bears press closer and +closer, pulling at the damp ends of their rainy moustaches and making +whispered suggestions for new devilries in the ears of the chief bears, +who nod their heads emphatically but don't pay any attention.</p> + +<p>The final stage is the stage of physical violence, when the chief +bears lean over the barricade and shake their paws at the Master; they +think they are only making legal gestures, but the Master knows very +well that they are getting out of hand; he knows then that it is time he +threw them a bun. So he says a soothing word to each of them and runs +his pen savagely through almost everything on their papers. The bears +growl in stupefaction and rage, and take deep breaths to begin again. +But meanwhile the keeper has shouted for a fresh set of bears, who surge +wildly into the room. The old bears are swept aside and creep out, +grunting. What the result of it all is I don't know. Nobody knows. But +the new bears——</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<span class='smcap'>Editor</span>.—I am much bored +with this.</p> + +<p class='ralign'><span class='smcap'>Author</span>.—Oh, very +well.]</p> + +<p class='ralign'>A. P. H.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:700px;'> +<a href='images/i-336.png' style='width:700px'> +<img src='images/i-336th.png' alt='' title='Click for larger +image' width='700' height='470' /> +</a> + +<p><i>Mistress.</i> "<span class='smcap'>At two o'clock +this morning, Mary, we were wakened by loud knocking, and your master +went down and found it was a policeman, who told him the pantry window +was open.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Mary.</i> "<span class='smcap'>Oh, 'e did, did 'e? 'Ad 'e red +'air? I'll larn 'm to go 'ammerin' at decent people's door in the middle +of the night just because I wouldn't go to the pictures with 'im last +Friday. Imperence!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<p>From the directions on an omnibus ticket:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Passengers are requested not to stand on top of the Bus +back seats for smoking."</p></blockquote> + +<p>This is a thing we never do.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> + +<p class='center subtitle'>"<span class='smcap'>Mary Rose</span>."</p> + +<p><span class='smcap'>Of</span> course nobody could possibly suspect +Sir <span class='smcap'>James Barrie</span> of plagiarising (save from +himself), yet it will explain something of the atmosphere of <i>Mary +Rose</i> if I say that it is a story with such a theme as that admirable +ghostmonger, the Provost of Eton, would whole-heartedly +approve—thrilling, sinister, inconclusive—with (shall I +say?) just a dash of Sir <span class='smcap'>Arthur Conan Doyle</span> +in his other-worldly mood to bring it well into the movement. Naturally +the variations are sheer <span class='smcap'>Barrie</span> and of the +most adroit.</p> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:403px; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em;'> +<a href='images/i-336b.png'> +<img src='images/i-336bth.png' alt='' title='Click for larger +image' width='403' height='500' /> +</a> + +<p>THE BOY WHO WOULD GROW UP FASTER THAN HIS MOTHER.</p> + +<p class='center'><i>Mary Rose</i> . . . <span class='smcap'>Miss Fay +Compton</span>.<br /> +<i>Harry</i> . . . . <span class='smcap'>Mr. Robert Loraine</span>.</p> +</div> + +<p><i>Mary Rose</i> is in fact a girl who couldn't grow up, because +whenever she visited a little mystery island in the Outer Hebrides +"they" who lived in a "lovely, lovely, lovely" vague world beyond these +voices would call her vaguely (to Mr. <span class='smcap'>Norman +O'Neill's</span> charming music), and she would as vaguely return with +no memory of what had passed and no change in her physical condition. +This didn't matter so much when, as a mere child, she disappeared for +thirty days; but when, mother of an incomparable heir of two, she was +rapt away in the middle of a picnic for twenty-five years, and returned +to find a husband, mother and father inexplicably old and changed, and +dreadfully silent about her babe—well, you see for yourself how +hopeless everything was. As if there were not enough real tragedy in the +world and it were necessary to invent!</p> + +<p>I don't think it fair to tell you any more. You shouldn't suffer +these thrills at second-hand. But I can say that, in spite of making it +a point of professional honour to try to keep a warm spine and check the +unbidden tear from trickling down my nose (which makes you look such an +ass before a cynical colleague during the intervals), I was beaten in +both attempts. The "effects" were astonishingly well contrived by both +author and producer (Mr. <span class='smcap'>Holman Clark</span>). You +were not let down at the supreme moment by a hurried shuffle of dimly +seen forms or the click of an electrician's gear suggesting too solid +flesh. The house was in a queer way stunned by the poignancy of the last +scene between the young ghost-mother and the long-sought unrecognised +son, and had to shake itself before it could reward with due applause +the fine playing of as perfect a cast as I have seen for a long time. +There's no manner of doubt that Sir <span class='smcap'>James</span> +"got it over" (as they say) all right.</p> + +<p>Miss <span class='smcap'>Fay Compton</span> makes astonishing +strides. Her <i>Mary Rose</i> had adorable shy movements, caresses, +intonations, wistfulnesses. These were traits of <i>Mary Rose</i>, not +tricks of Miss <span class='smcap'>Compton</span>. And they escaped +monotony—supreme achievement in the difficult circumstances. +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Robert Loraine</span> in the +doubled <i>rôles</i> of <i>Mary Rose's</i> husband and son, showed +a very fine skill in his differentiation of the husband's character in +three phases of time and development, and of the son's, with its family +likeness and individual variation. Mr. <span class='smcap'>Ernest +Thesiger</span>, who seems to touch nothing he does not adorn, gave a +fine rendering of as charming a character as ever came out of the +<span class='smcap'>Barrie</span> box—the superstitious, learned, +courteous crofter's son, student of Aberdeen University, temporary +boatman and (later) minister. He did his best incidentally, by rowing +away without casting off, to corroborate the local legend that the queer +little island sometimes disappeared. Miss <span class='smcap'>Mary +Jerrold</span> was just the perfect <span class='smcap'>Barrie</span> +mother (of <i>Mary Rose</i>). Mr. <span class='smcap'>Arthur +Whitby's</span> parson, Mr. <span class='smcap'>Norman Forbes'</span> +squire, Miss <span class='smcap'>Jean Cadell's</span> housekeeper, left +no chinks in their armour for a critic's spleenful arrow.</p> + +<p class='ralign'>T.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<blockquote><p>"It was one of those perfect June nights that so seldom +occur except in August."</p> + +<p class='ralign'>—— <cite>Magazine.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>The result of Daylight-saving, no doubt.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg +337]</a></span></p> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:547px;'> +<a href='images/i-337.png'> +<img src='images/i-337th.png' alt='' title='Click for larger +image' width='547' height='700' /> +</a> + +<h3>THE AGE OF UNREST.</h3> + +<p>GRANDMAMMA, WHO HAS BEEN THWARTED, GOES ON HUNGER-STRIKE.</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg +338]</a></span></p> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:700px'> +<a href='images/i-338.png'> +<img src='images/i-338th.png' alt='' +title='Click for larger image' width='700' height='401' /> +</a> + +<p>SHOCK OF A TRAVELLER LOST IN THE SNOW WHEN HE PERCEIVES THAT HIS +RESCUER IS A PUSSYFOOT.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>THE CONNOISSEUR.</h2> + +<div class='poem'> +<div class='stanza'> +No more to bits of china (though I love it),<br /> +<span class='in1em'>To coloured prints no more my fancy roams,</span><br /> +Or all the works of art I used to covet<br /> +<span class='in3em'>In other people's homes.</span> +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +Old first editions, Sheffield plate and brasses,<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Weapons of <span class='smcap'>Cromwell's</span> time and coats of mail,</span><br /> +Gate-tables, <span class='smcap'>Queen Anne</span> chairs and aught that passes<br /> +<span class='in3em'>For craft of <span class='smcap'>Chippendale</span>—</span> +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +Such things no more I spend my hard-earned cash on<br /> +<span class='in1em'>(Fain though the spirit be, the purse is weak);</span><br /> +Yet strong within me burns the ruling passion<br /> +<span class='in3em'>For anything antique.</span> +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +To haunt the sales for "finds" no more my job is;<br /> +<span class='in1em'>I've found at length, to satisfy my bent,</span><br /> +A wider sphere for this my last of hobbies,<br /> +<span class='in3em'>Which costs me not a cent;</span> +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +Where I can see my friends possess the treasure<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Their souls desire, nor envy them for that;</span><br /> +My game's to scan my fellow-man at leisure<br /> +<span class='in3em'>Divested of his hat;</span> +</div> + +<div class='stanza'> +Among my own coevals, whom at last Time<br /> +<span class='in1em'>Is taking by the locks at forty-nine,</span><br /> +Searching (a quaint but inexpensive pastime)<br /> +<span class='in3em'>For balder heads than mine.</span> +</div> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>HINTS ON ADVERTISING.</h2> + +<p><span class='smcap'>In</span> the belief that the numerous signs and +notices, such as those containing warnings and advice to the public, +with which the eye is so familiar, might be employed as +suitable <i>media</i> for commercial advertisement, the following +suggestions are offered for what they are worth:—</p> + +<div class='center'> +<div class='box'> +<b class='u'>LIFT NOT WORKING.</b><br /> +When you walk upstairs<br /> +be sure your boots are<br /> +shod with PUSSYFOOT<br /> +Rubber Heels. +</div> + +<div class='box'> +<b class='u'>TO STOP THE TRAIN PULL<br /> +DOWN THE CORD.</b> +<br /> +Then light a NAVY LIST Cigarette.<br /> +<br /> +That alone is worth the £5. +</div> + +<div class='box'> +<b class='u'>STICK NO BILLS.</b><br /> +It's not your job.<br /> +Let STIKKOTINE do it.<br /> +<br /> +Sticks anything. +</div> + +<div class='box'> +<b class='u'>THIS RACK IS PROVIDED FOR<br /> +LIGHT ARTICLES ONLY.</b><br /> +<br /> +If your baby is a GLOXO baby<br /> +keep it on your knee.<br /> +<br /> +GLOXO builds <i>bulky</i> bairns. +</div> + +<div class='box'> +<b class='u'>KEEP OFF THE GRASS.</b><br /> +Unless you are wearing<br /> +GUMBOODLE'S<br /> +Goloshes.<br /> +Won't wet feet. +</div> + +<div class='box'> +<b class='u'>BEWARE OF THE DOG.</b><br /> +Wait till he hears<br /> +HIS MASTER'S VOICE. +</div> + +<div class='box'> +<b class='u'>YOU MAY TELEPHONE FROM HERE.</b><br /> +Ring up your newsagent and order<br /> +your DAILY WAIL.<br /> +Billion Sale.<br /> +Order it now.<br /> +CHU CHIN CHOW. +</div> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<blockquote><p class='center'>"CHARLES ——</p> + +<p class='center'>This week, <span class='smcap'>Driven From Home</span>.<br /> +Next week, <span class='smcap'>At Sea</span>."</p> + +<p class='ralign'><cite>Daily Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>Surely this pitiable case ought to be brought to the attention of the +Actors' Benevolent Association.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg +339]</a></span></p> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:700px'> +<a href='images/i-339.png'> +<img src='images/i-339th.png' alt='' title='Click for +larger image' width='700' height='489' /> +</a> + +<p class='center'><i>Epicurean.</i> "<span class='smcap'>Ah, you little realise how +these April showers bring on the peas</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p class='center'>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='smcap'>I have</span> a mild grievance against that +talented lady, Miss <span class='smcap'>Marjorie Bowen</span>, for +labelling her latest novel "a romantic fantasy." Because, like all her +other stories, <i>The Cheats</i> (<span class='smcap'>Collins</span>) +moves with such an air of truth, its personages are so human, that I +could delightfully persuade myself that it was all true, and that I had +really shared, with a sometimes quickened pulse, the strange fortunes of +the sombre young hero. But—fantasy! That is to show the strings +and give away the whole game. However, if you can forget that, the coils +of an admirably woven intrigue will grip your attention and sympathy +throughout. The central figure is one <i>Jaques</i>, who comes to town +as a penniless and love-lorn romantic, to be confronted with the +revelation that he is himself the eldest son, unacknowledged but +legitimate, of His Majesty <span class='smcap'>King Charles the +Second</span>, then holding Court at Whitehall. It is from the plots and +counter-plots, the machinations and subterfuges that follow that +Miss <span class='smcap'>Bowen</span> justifies her title. +Certainly <i>The Cheats</i> establishes her in my mind as our first +writer of historical fiction. The character-drawing is admirable +(especially of poor weak-willed vacillating <i>Jaques</i>, a wonderfully +observed study of the <span class='smcap'>Stuart</span> temperament). +More than ever, also, Miss <span class='smcap'>Bowen</span> might here +be said to write her descriptions with a paint-brush; the whole tale +goes by in a series of glowing pictures, most richly coloured. <i>The +Cheats</i> is not a merry book; its treatment of the foolish heroine in +particular abates nothing of grim justice; but of its art there can be +no two opinions. I wish again that I had been allowed to believe in +it.</p> + +<p>It must be unusual in war for a commander-in-chief to be regarded by +his opponents with the respect and admiration that the British forces in +East Africa felt towards +<span class='smcap'>Von Lettow-Vorbeck</span>; from +General <span class='smcap'>Smuts</span>, who congratulated him on his +Order "Pour le Mérite," down to the British Tommy who promised to +salute him "if ever 'e's copped." The fact that <span class='smcap'>Von +Lettow</span> held out from August, 1914, till after the Armistice with +a small force mainly composed of native askaris, and with hardly any +assistance from overseas, is proof in itself of his organizing ability, +his military leadership and his indomitable determination. As these are +qualities which are valued by his late enemies his story of the +campaign, <i>My Reminiscences of East Africa</i> +(<span class='smcap'>Hurst and Blackett</span>), should appeal to a +large public, especially as it is written on the whole in a sporting +spirit and not without some sense of humour. His descriptions of the +natural difficulties of the country and the methods he adopted for +handling them are interesting and instructive. But in military matters +his story is not altogether convincing; for if his "victories" were as +"decisive" as he represents them how is it that they were followed +almost invariably by retirement? The results are attributed in these +pages to "slight mischances" or "unfavourable conditions" or merely to +"pressure of circumstances." Would it not have been better, while he was +about it, to claim boldly that he was luring us on? This is a question +on which one naturally refers to the maps, and it is therefore all the +more regrettable that these contain no scale of mileage, an omission +which renders them almost meaningless. How many readers, for instance, +will realise that German East Africa was almost twice the size of +Germany? The translation on the whole is +good,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg +340]</a></span> though some phrases such as "the at times barely +sufficient ration" are rather too redolent of the Fatherland.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>I see that on the title-page of his latest story Mr. W. E. +<span class='smcap'>Norris</span> is credited with having already +written two others (specified by name), etc. Much virtue in that "etc." +I cannot therefore regard <i>The Triumphs of Sara</i> +(<span class='smcap'>Hutchinson</span>) precisely as the work of a +beginner, though it has a freshness and sense of enjoyment about it that +might well belong to a first book rather than to—I doubt whether +even Mr. <span class='smcap'>Norris</span> himself could say offhand +what its number is. +<i>Sara</i> and her circle are eminently characteristic of their +creator. You have here the same well-bred well-to-do persons, pleasantly +true to their decorous type, retaining always, despite modernity of +clothes and circumstance, a gentle aroma of late Victorianism. +Perhaps <i>Sara</i> is the most immediate of +Mr.<span class='smcap'>Norris's</span> heroines so far. Her money-bags +had been filled in Manchester, and from time to time in her history you +are reminded of this circumstance. It explains much; though hardly her +marriage with <i>Euan Leppington</i>, whose attraction apparently lay in +being one of the few males of her acquaintance whom <i>Sara</i> did not +find it fatally easy to bring to heel. Anyhow, after marriage she +quickly grew bored to death of him; so much so that it required an +attempt (badly bungled) by another woman to get <i>Euan</i> to elope +with her, and a providential collapse of the very unwilling Lothario, to +bring about that happy ending that my experience of kind +Mr. <span class='smcap'>Norris</span> has taught me to expect. I may add +that he has never done anything more quietly entertaining than the +frustrated elopement; the luncheon scene at the Métropole, +Brighton, between the angry but amused <i>Sara</i> and a husband +incapacitated by rage, remorse and chill, is an especially well-handled +little comedy of manners.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>Sir <span class='smcap'>Julian Corbett</span>, in writing the first +volume of <i>Naval Operations</i> (<span class='smcap'>Longmans</span>), +has carried the semi-official history of the War at sea only as far as +the Battle of the Falklands; but if the other three or four +volumes—the number is still uncertain—are to be as full of +romance as this the complete work will be a library of adventure in +itself. Hardly ever turning aside to praise or blame, he says with +almost unqualified baldness a multitude of astounding +things—things we half knew, or guessed, or longed to have +explained, or dared not whisper, or, most of all, never dreamt of. Here +is a gold-mine for the makers of boys' books of all future generations +to quarry in. Think, for instance, of the liner +<i>Ortega</i> shaking off a German cruiser by bolting into an uncharted +tide-race near the Horn; or the <i>Southport</i>, left for +disabled by her captors, crawling two thousand miles to +safety with only half an engine; or the triumphant raider +<i>Karlsruhe</i>, her pursuers baffled, full to the hatches with +captured luxuries, bands playing, flags flying, suddenly blown up in +mid-Atlantic. The game of hide-and-seek, as played by the <i>Emden</i> +and her like, naturally figures very largely in a volume +which <span class='smcap'>Henty</span> could hardly have bettered. The +author's veracious narrative, leaving all picturesque detail to the +imagination, gets home every time by the sheer weight of its material. +The War in Home waters is no less fascinatingly reconstructed, and the +case of maps contains in itself living epics for all who study them with +understanding.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>In writing her second book Miss <span class='smcap'>Hilda M. +Sharp</span> has allowed herself what is, I suspect, the lady novelist's +greatest treat, the extraordinary achievement of using the first person +singular and making it masculine. She has done it very well too, and I +am happy to recall that, in another place, I was among the many who +prophesied good concerning her future when she made +her <i>début</i> as a novelist with <i>The Stars in their +Courses</i> in Mr. <span class='smcap'>Fisher Unwin's</span> "First +Novel Library." <i>A Pawn in Pawn</i> comes very properly from the same +publisher. It has one of those plots which it is most particularly a +reviewer's business, in the reader's own interest, not to reveal, but it +is permissible to explain that the "pawn" of the title is a little girl +adopted from an orphanage, where, as someone says, "the orphans aren't +really orphans," by <i>Julian Tarrant</i>, whom a select circle +acknowledged as the greatest poet that the last years of the nineteenth +century produced. Miss +<span class='smcap'>Sharp</span> earns my special admiration by getting +through the inevitable description of the beginning of the Great War in +fewer words than anybody whose attempt I have yet encountered, and +steers throughout a pleasant course midway between a "bestseller" and a +"high-brow." <i>Lydia</i>, the "pawn," is very charming, but quite +possibly so, and though, of course, she must marry one of the three men +interested in her adoption Miss <span class='smcap'>Sharp</span> will +probably keep most of her readers, as she did me, in doubt as to which +it is to be until quite the end of the book. I think that he may prove +an acquired taste with most readers; but directly I found that he was +apt to quote the reviews in <i>Punch</i> I realised that he was a man of +discrimination and deserved his good luck.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<div class='i-center' style='width:364px'> +<a href='images/i-340.png'> +<img src='images/i-340th.png' alt='' title='Click for larger +image' width='364' height='450' /> +</a> + +<p>"<span class='smcap'>Proper fed up wiv you, I am. Cry, cry, cry all +day long. I'd 'it yer over the 'ead wiv the bottle if I wos a modern +woman</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h3>An Urgent Request.</h3> + +<blockquote> +<p class='center'>"—— <span class='smcap'>Co-Operative +Society, Ltd</span>.</p> + +<p>Members are requested to hand in their Share Pass Books for Audit +Purposes to the Head Office on or before <span class='smcap'>at +once</span>."—<cite>Local Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<blockquote><p>"Rev. —— writes:—'I have a Cousin +residing in the Transvaal who has been living on three plates of +porridge made of —— for five years, and is well and strong +on it.'"—<cite>South African Paper.</cite></p></blockquote> + +<p>It sounds very sustaining.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<p class='trnote'>Transcriber's Notes:<br /> Some illustrations have been +moved from the physical page order to facilitate text formatting for +this ebook.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume +158, April 28, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, VOL. 158, APRIL 28, 1920 *** + +***** This file should be named 22653-h.htm or 22653-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/6/5/22653/ + +Produced by V. 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