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diff --git a/22688-h/22688-h.htm b/22688-h/22688-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..db8b97e --- /dev/null +++ b/22688-h/22688-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2597 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + + <title>Punch, March 29, 1916.</title> + + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note, .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .drama {margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .drama p {margin: 1em 0em 0em 0em;; padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + .drama p.i2 {margin: 0; margin-left: 1em;} + .drama p.i4 {margin: 0; margin-left: 2em;} + .drama p.i6 {margin: 0; margin-left: 3em;} + .drama p.i8 {margin: 0; margin-left: 4em;} + .drama p.i10 {margin: 0; margin-left: 5em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + .inline {border: none; vertical-align: middle;} + + p.author {text-align: right;} + + .side { float:right; + font-size: 75%; + width: 25%; + padding-left:10px; + border-left: dashed thin; + margin-left: 10px; + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + font-weight: bold; + font-style: italic;} + --> + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 150, +March 29, 1916, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 150, March 29, 1916 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: September 20, 2007 [EBook #22688] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 150.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>March 29, 1916.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page209" id="page209"></a>[pg 209]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/209.png"><img width="100%" src="images/209.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><i>Fond Mother.</i> "<span class="sc">Anything in the paper, dear</span>?"</p> +<p><i>Wage-earner (not unkindly).</i> "<span class="sc">No, Ma—nothing you could understand</span>."</p></div> + + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p>"His seventy-one years sit lightly on +Mr. <span class="sc">Gibson Bowles</span>," says the Special +Correspondent of <i>The Evening News</i>. +No doubt Mr. <span class="sc">Bowles</span> has some good +reason for permitting this familiarity, +for he is not a man to be lightly sat +upon.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"In particular," says a report on the +resources of German East Africa, "the +President of the Silk Association has just +directed attention to the wild silk +of the anaphe worm." The animal +the great two-horned silkworm discovered by Sir +<span class="sc">Harry Johnston</span>, before whose furious +charges, according to the report of +natives, even the elephant will give way.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A telegram from Rome states that it +is generally believed that Admiral +<span class="sc">Tirpitz</span> resigned because he could not +take the German Fleet out. Others +again maintain that it was because +he could no longer take the German +people in.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It was recently stated in a Parliamentary +Report that verminous uniforms +had been purchased by the +Government for the sum of £2,650 and +immediately resold for £400. The +difference is accounted for by the fact +that they were sold as going concerns.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A white rook has been observed at +Boston Road, Brentford, and a local +ornithologist writes to say that the bird +is probably an accidental straggler from +King's Bishop's Fourth.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"To-day in many English homes," +says a patriotic contemporary, "alien +birds are carolling all unconscious of +their countries' doom." One had independently +noticed how the modulated +of the Turkey buzzard had +taken on a mournful tone.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"It is not unusual for horses to go +to sleep as they walk along," said a +sagacious coroner last week. How often +in the old four-wheeler days, when we +were going <i>ventre a terre</i> from Buckingham +Palace to the National Liberal +Club, conversation was rendered impossible +by the snores of the flying steed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The price of admission to Kew for +perambulators is 3<i>d.</i> on ordinary days, +1<i>s.</i> on student days. The extra charge +has been found necessary because of +the fact that large numbers of horticulturists, +in order to escape military +service, have taken to travelling in +these vehicles.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>According to the author of <i>In a +College Garden</i> "it is not advisable +to encourage any but educated ladies +to become gardeners." It is always +pleasant to note the extent to which a +simple thing like a potato will recognise +and respond to gentility in those +who associate with it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The Italian Ambassador opened the exhibition +of the Royal Society of Brush Artists at +the society's premises in Suffolk-street."</p> + +<p><i>Evening Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Mr. Punch welcomes the implicit admission +that there are others.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"What is needed is that we should have on +each of the main lines of our overseas communications +at least one ship that is faster +than anything else afloat."—<i>Manchester +Guardian</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Is it not extraordinary that the Admiralty +should never have thought of +this simple device?</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>From a theatre programme:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"All the Male Members of the above Company +are either attested under Lord Derby's +Scheme, or are otherwise Ineligible for +Service." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>The erroneous impression that to be +attested is the short road to ineligibility +has evidently spread from the platform +to the stage.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page210" id="page210"></a>[pg 210]</span> + +<h2>FOR THEY ARE JOLLY POOR FELLOWS.</h2> + +<blockquote><p> +[The fine example of patriotism shown by the Universities of +Oxford and Cambridge throws into painful relief the action of some +of the obscure remnant, including College Fellows, who have excused +themselves from service or adopted an attitude of superior detachment +in relation to the War.] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>You Intellectuals of Cam and Isis,</p> +<p class="i2">Pale phantoms in the dawn of Freedom's light,</p> +<p>And you that in this hour of England's crisis</p> +<p class="i2">Haven't the conscience (or the heart) to fight;</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>You cosmopolitans without a country,</p> +<p class="i2">Who go aloof on philosophic quests,</p> +<p>Sucking the fruit of knowledge from the Hun-tree</p> +<p class="i2">And spiritual milk from alien breasts;</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>False to that Brotherhood, who for the splendour</p> +<p class="i2">Of a great cause, with gallant hearts and gay,</p> +<p>Of youth and youth's high promise made surrender,</p> +<p class="i2">Because their courage knew the nobler way;</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I envy not your chance on their returning;</p> +<p class="i2">When, scarred with war, they come from overseas,</p> +<p>There should be trouble in those Seats of Learning</p> +<p class="i2">Where you sat tight and took your pedants' ease.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Short shrift you'll get for your convenient scruples;</p> +<p class="i2">Conducted thither where the wet stream winds</p> +<p>You shall receive as elementary pupils</p> +<p class="i2">An object-lesson good for little minds.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Somewhere about the Guts of Cam and Isis,</p> +<p class="i2">May I be well in front to see you then</p> +<p>Taught by immersion what the local price is</p> +<p class="i2">To pay for being prigs instead of men.</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>O. S.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>PHILOGAMUS.</h2> + +<h3>(<i>A Socratic Fragment</i>.)</h3> + +<p>"... It is plain, therefore," said Socrates, "that the +man whose soul is afflicted with illness will desire above +all things to have it cured as quickly as possible, and for +this purpose he will submit himself to one who understands +the curing of souls. So far, I think, we are agreed, are +we not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said Agathon, "that would appear to be +the wisest course."</p> + +<p>"Then why," said Socrates, "do we find that men who +are generally eager to be cured of an ague are indisposed to +take care of their soul when it is manifestly suffering? +You yourself have declared that your soul is sick within +you, yet you consult nobody and take no steps."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, Socrates, I cannot allow you to catch me +like this. Perhaps I spoke thoughtlessly when I mentioned +my soul just now. Certainly I had not intended that you +should tie me up with your questions and draw conclusions +which it was impossible for me to foresee."</p> + +<p>"Then I suppose the fault must be mine, for in truth I +had not designed to catch anyone, least of all yourself, my +dear Agathon. But we will defer the consideration of the +matter to a more favourable time, for I see Philogamus +approaching and, if we may judge by the outward signs, he +seems to be, as one might say, in a terrible state."</p> + +<p>Hereupon we turned to observe Philogamus, to whom +indeed something painful and calamitous must have happened, +for his garments were disarrayed and his hair was +unkempt, and anger was seated upon his frowning brow, +and he was muttering to himself and calling the gods to +witness that he was unjustly treated and that no such misfortune +had ever before happened to any other man; and +he was beating his hands wildly together and was forgetting +to salute his friends. Seeing him thus distraught +Socrates plucked him by the sleeve as he passed and +addressed him.</p> + +<p>"Hail, Philogamus," he said, "what great misfortune +do you announce to us? Have the Barbarians at last +seized upon the Piræus, and are they even now marching +irresistibly on the Acropolis? Are you sent out to summon +us to arms? Here are a few of us who will join with you, +laying aside even their most pressing private business, and +will help to defend the State and themselves to the last +gasp. Only do you deliver your message and let us know."</p> + +<p>"This," said Philogamus, "is no moment for laughing, +though in laughter, O Socrates, you are always easily first, +as they say, and the rest nowhere. But have you not +heard what has happened?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Socrates, "and we much desire to know. +I can speak confidently for myself, and Agathon here is, +I am sure, in a fever of impatience."</p> + +<p>"Listen, then, and, by the gods, you shall be made aware +of an injustice that calls for immediate redress. They are +even now on the point of calling up the married men to go +to the War."</p> + +<p>"That is very interesting; and what do the married men +say to it?"</p> + +<p>"What do they say?" shouted Philogamus. "They +say they will not go unless, according to the promises of +Darbius and Ascuthius, all the unmarried men are taken +first;" and he began once more beating his breast and +glaring with his eyes like a dog who has been for long +without water.</p> + +<p>"Softly, my good friend," said Socrates, "softly. As to +the promise, I know it is being rigidly kept. All the willing +single men are gone or going, and the unwilling are being +compelled to join as quickly as is possible. What more +can be done?"</p> + +<p>"Something ought to be done."</p> + +<p>"That is very true," said Socrates; "something ought +always to be getting itself done, and the something at this +moment is that the Barbarians ought to be beaten. But +tell me, with regard to the married men, are they not +concerned in the safety and welfare of the State?"</p> + +<p>"That, indeed, they are," said Philogamus; "none more +so."</p> + +<p>"In that case why do they hang back and complain +when the State declares that its safety and welfare demand +that they should be ready to go? Because one here and +there has concealed himself, is it for you, a married man, to +retire when by going you might help to thrust back the +Barbarians? Are you one of those that are called the +attested ones?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that I am," said Philogamus, proudly displaying +his brown armlet with the red crown.</p> + +<p>"Then it is you, as it appears to me, who have given a +pledge and made a promise, and that promise, I am sure, +you will fulfil to the best of your ability. When the time +comes it is for you to go at once and not to weary the +market-place with empty noise and murmurs of complaint. +For remember this: the man who has taken a wife and has +brought up children under the State's protection owes more, +if it be possible...."</p> + +<p>(<i>Here the fragment ends.</i>)</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>From a description of the German <span class="sc">Crown Prince</span>:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"Before the war he liked to imitate the English, and posed as +a German megalomaniac."</p> + +<p><i>Daily News</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Yes, we believe there were some English like that—before +the War.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page211" id="page211"></a>[pg 211]</span> + +<h3>THE MARKS OF THE BEAST.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/211.png"><img width="100%" src="images/211.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Imperial Beggar</i>. "PITY A POOR WAR-LORD WHO HAS LOST HALF HIS MEN, AND +MUST HAVE MORE MONEY IN ORDER TO LOSE THE OTHER HALF."</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page212" id="page212"></a>[pg 212]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/212.png"><img width="100%" src="images/212.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Voice through telephone (to officer dragged up from the first sleep +he's had for two days)</i>. "<span class="sc">Thought I'd better report, Sir.—we've +just got the consignment of footballs up.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE SCOTTISH REEL THING AT LAST.</h2> + +<p>Now that Sir J. M. <span class="sc">Barrie</span> has +shown us the Transatlantic kinema +man's idea of the perfect <i>Macbeth</i>, it is +up to the purveyor of American films +to retaliate by presenting one of his +plots for ordinary stage performance +in the Kirriemuir manner. Here and +there an inadvertent touch of Western +colour may be anticipated.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Scene.</span>—<i>Kensington Gardens. The</i> +Heroine—<i>oh, the little love!—is +taking a dander round the "Keep off +the Grass" boards. Her feet are bare, +and this is probably the reason why +from time to time she dances among +the trees. In the background the +Hero, wearing a divided kilt, rides +about on a horse. Having +thus given the audience time +to settle, the play starts.</i></p> + +<p><i>Heroine</i> (<i>perceiving</i> Hero). +Gee! there's that rube I met +up North. Sic a bonny lad +too! (<i>sighing sadly</i>). But he +hasna much siller, I'm sair +misdootin'. Guess there's no +twelve-pound look about him.</p> + +<p><i>Hero</i> (<i>dashing up and dismounting</i>). +Wal, I wanter +know. Say, ain't you the peach +I useter see from my window +in Thrums?</p> + +<p><i>Heroine</i> (<i>coyly</i>). Havers!</p> + +<p><i>Hero</i> (<i>not to be outdone</i>), +Dagont!</p> + +<p>[<i>She strolls away with her +chin in the air, her shoes +and stockings in her hands, +and the famous red light in +her eye. She goes behind a +tree, and the</i> Hero, <i>thinking +she has retired there to +greet sadly, follows to console her. +However, he discovers that she is +merely resuming her footgear, and +he retreats modestly.</i>]</p> + +<p><i>Hero</i> (<i>rolling his eyes wildly to denote +love</i>). A snod bit lassie, that. I mean to +say—I—ay! Juist so! Ay, ou ay!</p> + +<p><i>Heroine</i> (<i>returning with her shoes on</i>). +For the love of Mike—I mean Losh +keep's!—are you still here?</p> + +<p><i>Hero.</i> That's so. I wanter put you +wise about me. I ain't no boob, as +you seemter think. You can bet your +rubbers on that. Maybe you're thinkin' +that I'm but a puir laddie. Wal, let <i>me</i> +tell <i>you</i> you're guessin' wrong. I'm +an author—I do writin' stunts. And +if I don't swell around in new pants all +afternoon it's only because I have to +keep all my cheques among the crumbs +in my tobacco pouch. I <i>have</i> to do it. +All the best Scots writers do it. We +call it Arcadian Mixture.</p> + +<p><i>Heroine.</i> Guess that rollers out the +course of true love some. But let <i>me</i> +tell <i>you</i> there's another feller after me—a +puir feckless body of a villain. +And, Losh preserve us, here he comes!</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> Villain <i>enters. He looks rather +like a revue-producer who has seen +better nights. The</i> Hero, <i>overcome +by bashfulness at being discovered in +conversation with a female, conceals +himself behind his accent.</i>]</p> + +<p><i>Villain.</i> See here, gal, you just gotter +marry me.</p> + +<p><i>Heroine.</i> Shucks! I should say, +Dinna blether, ma mannie.</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> Hero <i>creeps cautiously out of +ambush.</i>]</p> + +<p><i>Villain</i> (<i>caressingly</i>). I have always +loved my little Mary.</p> + +<p><i>Hero</i> (<i>subtly ironic</i>). Imphm! Imphm! +Ou ay, imphm!</p> + +<p><i>Villain</i> (<i>surprised but finding a way</i>). +Oh, the dears! oh, the darlings!</p> + +<p><i>Hero</i> (<i>bewildered</i>). What's all that +blatherskite, any old way?</p> + +<p><i>Villain</i> (<i>privily drawing bludgeon</i>). +It was Sneeky Hobart who never went +to kirk again after they substituted +tin plates for the usual cloth collecting-bags.</p> + +<p><i>Hero</i> (<i>perplexed and off his guard</i>). +Guess you've gone bughouse, sonny. +I mean, I'm no quick in the uptak'——</p> + +<p><i>Villain.</i> Are ye no? (<i>brandishing +bludgeon</i>). Well, I am! (<i>He fells the</i> +Hero <i>senseless to the ground.</i>) And noo, +lassie, I can sorter concentrate on you.</p> + +<p><i>Heroine</i> (<i>in the most ladylike way</i>). +Help! oh, help!</p> + +<p><i>Villain.</i> Say, you don't seemter +freeze on to me, somehow. But you +must and shall be mine! Come awa', +lassie.</p> + +<p>[<i>He seizes her and she resists. Meanwhile +the</i> Hero, <i>who fell on to a +clump of genuine thistles, makes a +superbly-rapid recovery from his +unconsciousness.</i>]</p> + +<p><i>Villain</i> (<i>pausing to mop his brow</i>). +Say, you'll got my goat for sure if you +kick up like this, lassie.</p> + +<p><i>Heroine.</i> Gee! That's a great idea. +If only Peter Pan's goat——</p> + +<p>[<i>The</i> Hero, <i>inspired, crawls away unnoticed.</i>]</p> + +<p><i>Villain</i> (<i>preparing to renew the struggle</i>). +Lassie, I'm quite sweered o' you. +There's an awesome look in your eye. +And can ye no be more ladylike in your +fechting? Remember whose heroine +you are.</p> + +<p>[<i>He again strives to bear her off. The</i> +Hero, <i>having broken off a couple of +branches and affixed them to his +head—a little trick he learned from +the Admirable Crichton—now +returns disguised as a +goat. He rushes at Villain, +who flees and scales the park +railings. But his overcoat +collar catches in the spikes, +and he hangs suspended +and helpless. In that position +he slowly starves, and +dies inconspicuously as the</i> +Hero <i>and</i> Heroine <i>finish +the play.</i>]</p> + +<p><i>Hero</i> (<i>extending his arms</i>). +Say, is it a deal? I mean, will +ye ha'e us, lassie?</p> + +<p><i>Heroine</i> (<i>with little wells of +gladness in her eyes</i>). It's a +cinch. Guess you're Mr. +Smart from Smartville. Ay, +I'm thinkin' I'll tak' you. +But you men are fickle callants—that's +what every +woman knows. Come awa' +and let's find a little meenister +at once.</p> + +<p><i>Hero.</i> Oh, joy! oh, rapture! oh, rosy +rapture! [<i>They embrace and exeunt</i>.]</p> + +<p><i>The Audience</i>. Hoots!</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Curtain</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>Journalistic Anticipation.</h3> + +<p>"THE COMING GREAT SEA BATTLE.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Exclusive Pictures.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>"Sunday Herald" Poster.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page213" id="page213"></a>[pg 213]</span> + +<h2>AT THE FRONT.</h2> + +<p>The subtlety of the Military mind +beats and will beat me to the end. +Yesterday we lived in a row of earthen +dwellings in a depression in the ground, +which anyone might be excused for referring +to, if not as trenches, at least as +dugouts. These alone of all the marvels +of military engineering I have observed +during the War admitted of being +shelled with equal exactitude from due +in front and due in rear; and water +seemed to have been laid on throughout. +Taking all these things into consideration +some Authority labelled them, once +for all, "Billets."</p> + +<p>Last night we moved into a commodious +cellar of a house which still +leans against the next. It is only +five minutes from town, and tramlines +pass the door. Nay more, they stop +abruptly at the door—such are the +improvements effected by R.E. Inside +the cellar are three bits of chairs, a +table-top on boxes, and an inimitable +ancestral smell that no deodorizer +known to modern warfare can cope +with. And all this is called "Trenches!" +Our servants do their best to support +the official illusion by neglecting to +clean our boots and regarding with +surprise and some little sadness any +tendency on our part to wash.</p> + +<p>But you must not imagine that life +here is all honey. Even here we do a +bit for our eight-and-sixpence. Every +evening there comes down from the +front line a report that our men there +want more food. A stricter or less +beneficent C.O. than ours might at once +institute a court of inquiry into what +has happened to all the food we gave +them last night. But not so with us. +"The boys want food," he says to the +Adjutant, "and, by Heaven, the boys +shall have it."</p> + +<p>No sooner said than handed on to +someone else to do. The Adjutant +works off a little bit of his strong personal +dislike for me in a note, couched, +if you please, in the most friendly terms, +intimating that he has raised heaven +and earth to get me off, but the C.O. +insists that I (as the only competent +officer for the task) shall supervise the +conduct of our rations to the front, +middle and back lines to-night. He +adds that the Intelligence Corps report +that information received from deserters +leads us to suppose that Fritz intends +to strafe all roads and communication +trenches in our sector to-night.</p> + +<p>The carrying party is supplied by a +sister battalion, and makes the night +thoroughly well acquainted with its +views about a unit that can't supply +blanks to carry their blanked rations +for their blanked selves. Sometimes a +second or a third trip may be necessary, +and then the carriers' patriotic fervour +expresses itself in terms almost potent +enough to do the carrying for them. +For some reason or other the R.E., who +design material for our porterage, consider +its end and not its portability. +Their special line of ready-made wire +entanglements would entangle a hippopotamus; +and when it comes to carrying +one a mile-and-a-half you find it +has no wheels, no handles, and simply +won't fold up into the pocket. The +usual procedure is for a man or two to +roll on one of these barbed-wire death-traps +until they are well stuck on them +and then crawl to the point of delivery.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, of course, we have accidents. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page214" id="page214"></a>[pg 214]</span> +Last night, for instance, two +men were proceeding (by the way the +great point about being a soldier is that +you never walk, run or otherwise ambulate—you +proceed, or proceed at the +double, which of course is much nicer +for you)—yes, were proceeding, one at +each end of an entanglement, along the +top of a slope, when the leader missed +his footing altogether and rolled down +to the morass below. The second, after +a brief struggle, followed with the entanglement. +This movement involved +not only the man behind, who was +bearing a footboard, but also the remainder +of the section. The entire +avalanche was precipitated on to the +leaders, and remained there struggling +like the population of a fly-paper until +a squad arrived with wire-cutters. +When the R.E. heard of it they wanted +the episode published in Corps Orders +as a testimonial. But what the men +wanted done about the R.E. I dare not +tell you.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE TRUTH ABOUT CINEMALAND.</h2> + +<p>A <span class="sc">distinguished</span> neutral observer, +who has just returned from a visit to +Cinemaland, has furnished our representative +with the following interesting +account of his experiences and conclusions.</p> + +<p>One of the first things (he says) +that impressed me was that in the +great cities of Cinemaland there is, +outwardly at least, little or no sign +of scarcity. On the contrary, at the +various hotels and restaurants, as well +as several private entertainments that +came under my observation, a note of +almost wanton luxury appeared to be +aimed at. Evening dress is worn whenever +possible, and the costumes of the +ladies are invariably the last word in +ultra-fashionable extravagance. Food +is as yet obviously plentiful; what is +not consumed being frequently flung +about, especially by the humorous +elements of the population, and wasted +with reckless prodigality.</p> + +<p>In spite however of this ostentation +signs are not wanting that the true +condition of the country is increasingly +precarious. Crime of all sorts is +rampant. Judging even by what I +myself witnessed within a short period, +the detectives of Cinemaland must all +be working overtime. Quite recently +a gang, under the leadership of a ruffian +who elected to be known as The Clutching +Hand, made large sums of money by +working upon the terrors of its victims.</p> + +<p>Another significant symptom is that +respect for law and authority as such +appears to be almost non-existent. The +police force of Cinemaland is a body +of men who are most of them of conspicuously +full habit. I can vouch for +it that the appearance of these officials +is almost invariably greeted with derision; +and should they (as frequently +happens) incur physical maltreatment +or other misfortune in the exercise +of their duties popular sympathy is +almost always on the side of their +opponents.</p> + +<p>A notable exception to this feeling +is found in the attitude of the populace +towards their chosen ruler, the Emperor, +or Film-Lord, Charlemagne-Chaplin. It +is only fair to record that recent spectacular +(and carefully stage-managed) +appearances of the monarch have been +greeted with every demonstration of +unswerving loyalty and affection.</p> + +<p>More significant perhaps to an outside +spectator is the undeniable fact +that the Wild Western portions of +Cinemaland are to-day in a state of turbulence +bordering upon anarchy. The +Cowboys, who are its chief denizens, +would seem, so far as my experience +goes, to spend their entire time in exploits +of murderous violence; though +here (as elsewhere among this remarkable +people) the influence of sentiment +is often unexpectedly potent. It can +hardly be doubted that a populace so +emotional and ill-balanced as that of +Cinemaland will have little power to +withstand the strain of disaster.</p> + +<p>Despite my apparent freedom from +restraint I am persuaded that I was +kept under the observation of a number +of uniformed officials during the whole +course of my stay in Cinemaland; and +I am bound to confess that my departure, +which was made under cover +of darkness, was not unattended with +a sense of personal relief.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>PARABLES FOR BOSCHES.</h2> + +<p>Once upon a time there was a Father +who was devoted to his child. He fed +it and nursed it and watched it grow +and gave it toys to play with—both +soldiers and boats. Also he made it +promises that some day he would extend +their house and garden until no +house and garden were bigger. Every +year he took it to the top of a high +precipice and showed it beautiful lands +and water which should some day be +theirs.</p> + +<p>The child had heard this promise so +often that it used to ask, "When? +when?" And always the answer +was, "Some day, some day."</p> + +<p>And then at last the day came, and +the Father took the child to the high +precipice yet once more, but behold it +chanced that they both fell over and +were smashed, the Father hopelessly +and the child very, very badly, so that +it would for long years or perhaps for +evermore be a cripple.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ONE OF OUR ALLIES.</h2> + +<p>Somewhere in France—no, let me +be bold and say in Paris—there is a +young French soldier named Charles. +Less than two years ago he was a +plumber and whole; to-day he has but +one arm, his left; the other and a piece +of his shoulder with it having gone in +saving his country from the foe.</p> + +<p>Charles is shy and very modest, and +no bigger than so many French youths—he +is only twenty-two—with dark-brown +hair and blue eyes with very +black centres, and a moustache that +never succeeds in looking more than +three weeks old. Being, however, brave, +he does not let his maimed condition +unduly trouble him, but runs his +errands (all that he can now do) and +whistles as he runs, and is glad to be +alive at all, instead of dead, as so many +of his comrades are and as his Colonel +is, as I shall tell.</p> + +<p>At the Front Charles's duties were +these. A despatch—a <i>pli</i>, as they call +it—would be given him either back of +the lines to deliver in the trenches, or +in the trenches to deliver back of the +lines, and in order to get there, if fighting +was in progress, it was necessary +for him to crawl for perhaps one or two +kilometres on his stomach. On a certain +day of intense activity, Charles in +his trench was handed one of these +critical missives for the commanding +officer, who was a kilometre or so +behind, and this he placed in his satchel +and then began the hazardous journey.</p> + +<p>No one ever knows when the supreme +moment of his life is coming; nor did +Charles, but it was then.</p> + +<p>This being a terrific day—as a +matter of fact it was during the famous +battle for the Maison du Passeur, +when the French and Germans were +losing and retaking trenches for hours—he +had to crawl all the way, only to +come suddenly upon the body of the +commanding officer himself stretched +dead in a carrot field.</p> + +<p>To Charles's mind there was then +but one thing to do, and that was, as he +had been unable to deliver the message, +to take it back to the sender. He +therefore started on the return journey, +and was only a few yards from +his trench, and still un-hit, when he +found a wounded officer on the ground. +Here was a new problem, but necessarily +having to stand up and throw +aside all precautions, Charles got him +as well as he could on his back and, +still un-hit, half carried, half supported, +him to the trench, and was at once +away again with his despatch. It +was at this moment that an exploding +shell hurled the satchel from big +hands and flung it on the open ground +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page215" id="page215"></a>[pg 215]</span> +between the French trenches and the +enemy's, which were here separated +only by a few yards. At any cost the +despatch must not fall into German +hands, and Charles, who miraculously +had not been injured by the explosion, +began instantly to climb out of the +trench to recover it, and this in spite of +a sergeant, who called to him to keep +under cover. But Charles, having one +idea and one only, and that was to save +from the foe the despatch that had +been entrusted to him, succeeded in +reaching it and securing it; and then +came another shell that shattered his +arm.</p> + +<p>That is all he remembers; but he +must have rolled back to the bottom of +the trench, where he was found, two +days later, still clutching the satchel. +And after that, although he remembers +the coffee he was given to drink, all is a +haze until he came fully to himself in +hospital and found that no longer had +he a right arm.</p> + +<p>Such is the story of Charles's effort +for his country.</p> + +<p>Now I do not claim for Charles that +he is any braver or has a finer sense +of duty than many another French +soldier; but this I know, that when he +recovered he was summoned to the +Invalides to receive not only the <i>Croix +de Guerre</i> but the <i>Médaille Militaire</i> +with the palm, which corresponds to +our Victoria Cross, and that now, +although, having left the Army, he no +longer wears uniform but merely such +poor civilian clothes as he can afford +as a messenger, when he walks along +the Boulevards—which he does as +seldom as he can, so shy is he—there +is not an officer, seeing the +ribbons on his coat, who does not +salute this little plumber with as much +punctilio as though he were General +<span class="sc">Joffre</span> himself; and, blushing crimson, +Charles returns the salute.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/215.png"><img width="100%" src="images/215.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Patriotic Scots Lady</i> (<i>patrolling Victoria +main-line station to assist any of her stranded countrymen arriving from +the Front</i>). "<span class="sc">Can I help you in any way</span>?"</p> + +<p><i>Perplexed Scot.</i> "<span class="sc">Thank you, Mam. Is the toon far frae the +station?</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Mrs. Humphry Ward seems to have gone +for inspiration to contemporary characters, +and now in 'Tasker Jevons' it is difficult not +to find the lineaments of a well-known writer."</p> + +<p><i>Evening Standard.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Quite so: and Miss <span class="sc">May Sinclair</span> made +<i>A Great Success</i> of it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>NURSERY RHYMES OF LONDON TOWN.</h2> + +<p>II.—<span class="sc">King's Cross.</span></p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>King's Cross!</p> +<p class="i2">What shall we do?</p> +<p>His purple robe</p> +<p class="i2">Is rent in two!</p> +<p>Out of his crown</p> +<p class="i2">He's torn the gems!</p> +<p>He's thrown his sceptre</p> +<p class="i2">Into the Thames!</p> +<p>The Court is shaking</p> +<p class="i2">In every shoe—</p> +<p>King's Cross!</p> +<p class="i2"><i>What</i> shall we do?</p> +<p><i>Leave him alone</i></p> +<p class="i2"><i>For a minute or two.</i></p> + </div> </div> + +<p>III.—<span class="sc">Bishopsgate</span>.</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Bishopsgate Without,</p> +<p class="i2">Bishopsgate Within!</p> +<p>What a clamour at the gate,</p> +<p class="i2">O what a din!</p> +<p>Inside and outside</p> +<p>The Bishops bang and shout,</p> +<p>Outside crying, "Let me in!"</p> +<p>Inside, "Let me out."</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page216" id="page216"></a>[pg 216]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/216.png"><img width="100%" src="images/216.png" alt=""/></a><p>"<span class="sc">Look here, confound you! What do you mean by your +'disclosures'? There's nothing here that wasn't in the morning +papers</span>."</p> + +<p><span class="sc">"I'm sorry you're disappointed, Sir. At the same time I must point +out to you that my connection with the paper gives me abserlootly no +influence with the editorial department."</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE ADJUTANT.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>In that great Room which military error</p> +<p class="i2">Has miscalled Orderly (for it is not,</p> +<p>But full of tumult and debate and terror,</p> +<p class="i2">And worried writers growing rather hot,</p> +<p class="i4">For ever floundering in seas of chits</p> +<p class="i4">And forms and counterfoils and wrathful writs),</p> +<p class="i4">Alone unfevered mid the storm he sits</p> +<p class="i2">And tells them all exactly what is what.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Who so alert to solve the frequent riddle,</p> +<p class="i2">To judge if Jones should have his train-fare free,</p> +<p>Whether the band requires another fiddle,</p> +<p class="i2">And which is senior, Robinson or me?</p> +<p class="i4">Who shall indite such circulars as his</p> +<p class="i4">To Officers Commanding Companies</p> +<p class="i4">About their musketry, or why it is</p> +<p class="i2">So many men take sugar in their tea?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And when at times he shuns the sacred table</p> +<p class="i2">And like some eagle swoops upon parade,</p> +<p>Men mark his coming and there bursts a babel</p> +<p class="i2">As with new zeal the subalterns upbraid,</p> +<p class="i4">Lecture and illustrate, and on the right</p> +<p class="i4">Form sullen squads, and hope they're being bright—</p> +<p class="i4">Save those white-livered ones who at the sight</p> +<p class="i2">Hide their commands in some convenient glade.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>For he is terrible; and few folk relish</p> +<p class="i2">The words of doom which shake his diaphragm;</p> +<p>Yet is the heart of him not wholly hellish,</p> +<p class="i2">But in his playing-hours he's like a lamb;</p> +<p class="i4">And who'd have said that one so skilled to strafe</p> +<p class="i4">And, when I err, too truculent by half,</p> +<p class="i4">Could own so rich, so rollicking a laugh,</p> +<p class="i2">Would see so well how humorous I am?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Yet if with leave unasked I quit the barrack,</p> +<p class="i2">Ever behind I dread that he will call,</p> +<p>Speed up the street in some avenging Darracq</p> +<p class="i2">Or on the Underground retrieve his thrall;</p> +<p class="i4">Nor in my home can quite escape the spell</p> +<p class="i4">But freeze with horror at the front-door bell,</p> +<p class="i4">For fear the parlour-maid may speak my knell,</p> +<p class="i2">May knock and say that <i>he</i> is in the hall.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And, sleeping, still I have to brook his blusters;</p> +<p class="i2">A monstrous Adjutant is always nigh</p> +<p>At dream-reviews and endless dreamy musters,</p> +<p class="i2">Laden with lists and schemes and syllabi;</p> +<p class="i4">And, though he find no failing anywhere,</p> +<p class="i4">But all are present and correct and fair,</p> +<p class="i4"><i>I</i> never fail to make the fellow swear,</p> +<p class="i2"><i>I</i> always seem to catch his horrid eye.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page217" id="page217"></a>[pg 217]</span> + +<h3>TO THE GLORY OF FRANCE.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/217.png"><img width="100%" src="images/217.png" alt=""/></a><p>VERDUN, FEBRUARY-MARCH, 1916.</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page218" id="page218"></a>[pg 218]</span> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/218.png"><img width="100%" src="images/218.png" alt=""/></a><p>FUNK-HOLES FOR MINISTERS.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Designed for protection against raids by our air-experts</span>.</p></div> + +<p><i>Tuesday, March 21st.</i>—Returning +from Westminster this afternoon I +stumbled in Whitehall upon a Member +whom I had not seen in his place this +Session. "Going down to the House?" +I asked. "What, is it sitting?" he +replied; and then it appeared that he +was just home on short leave after +working hard "somewhere on the Continent," +and had no present interest in +political controversy. As I reflected +on a speech I had just listened to, it +occurred to me that the attitude of +some of the stay-at-home Members +towards the War is much the same as +that of my hon. friend towards the +House. "What, is it still going on?"</p> + +<p>If the Germans were in occupation +of the Black Country, if Oxford were +being daily shelled, as Rheims is, and if +with a favouring breeze London could +hear the dull rumble of the bombardment, +as Paris can, I wonder if Members +would still be encumbering the +Order-paper with the sort of trivialities +that now find place there.</p> + +<p>An exception may be made in favour +of Mr. <span class="sc">Joe King</span>. He has discovered +a little late in the day that a war +is going on in Europe, and that it +affects a little country called Belgium, +whose neutrality was guaranteed by +the Powers. He was anxious to know +whether Belgium had formally renounced +her neutrality, and was no +doubt greatly surprised to learn from +Sir <span class="sc">Edward Grey</span> that, owing to one +of the guaranteeing Powers having +invaded her, Belgium had become a +belligerent.</p> + +<p>I do not know whether Mr. <span class="sc">Pringle</span> +was in the House when this announcement +was made. But if so it evidently +created no impression on his mind. In +the debate on the Army Estimates he +followed Captain <span class="sc">Tryon</span>, who had delivered +an urgent appeal to the Government +from the text, "A strong Army +and a shorter War." Mr. <span class="sc">Pringle's</span> +ideal is just the reverse. In his view +the Army is too big already, and +is taking too great a toll from our +industrial and commercial population. +The great men who won the Napoleonic +War—after twenty-three years—had +not a big army; and the consequence +was that, while it was going on, British +trade expanded by leaps and bounds. +To-day, owing to our disastrous military +policy the demands upon our +tonnage were so heavy that people +had to go short of sugar and tobacco. +Let us conserve our resources and be +ready to dictate terms when Germany +has been financially ruined. When +Mr. <span class="sc">Pringle</span> at last sat down after +three-quarters of an hour of this sort +of thing I longed for ten minutes of +Mr. <span class="sc">Balfour</span> at his best. But he was +not present, and Mr. <span class="sc">Long</span> was so much +occupied in defending the Government +against the charge of having broken +faith with the married men that Mr. +<span class="sc">Pringle</span> never got the trouncing he +deserved.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday, March 22nd.</i>—One of +the most cherished beliefs of the House +of Commons is that upon the Second +Reading of the Consolidated Fund Bill +anything under the sun may be discussed. +Colonel <span class="sc">Yate</span> was justly surprised, +therefore, when the <span class="sc">Speaker</span> +ruled that he was out of order in criticising +the Indian Government for its +conduct of the Mesopotamian Expedition, +and advised him to reserve his +remarks for the Indian Budget discussion—equivalent +in these times to +the Greek Kalends.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Chamberlain</span> was surprised too, +but, regardless of the ruling, proceeded +to make a carefully-prepared reply to +the speech which the Hon. and gallant +Member had not been allowed to +deliver. He frankly admitted that +there had been a lamentable breakdown +of the hospital arrangements, +but steps had been taken to improve +them, and a telegram from General +<span class="sc">Lake</span> showed that the treatment of +the men wounded in the recent engagement +was satisfactory.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Pemberton-Billing</span> essayed another +and a longer flight to-day, but +had a good deal of engine trouble. His +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page219" id="page219"></a>[pg 219]</span> +Parliamentary friends ought to have +warned him that the House does not +care to listen to a man reading extracts +from his own leading articles, however +prophetic they may have been; that +the constant reiteration of a phrase +such as "I would like to suggest, +Mr. <span class="sc">Speaker</span>," soon becomes tiresome, +and that to call somebody else "the +De Rougemont of the air" is to invite +the <i>tu quoque</i>. Members became more +and more impatient as the orator +became more and more dogmatic; +and when he rhetorically demanded +the name of "one man to whom +we could turn to solve the problem" +they derisively chorused, "<span class="sc">Billing</span>!" +Mr. <span class="sc">Tennant</span>, recognising the +feeling of the House, did not spend +much time in refuting Mr. <span class="sc">Billing</span>'s +wild assertions, but devoted most of +his speech to replying to Mr. <span class="sc">Joynson-Hicks</span>, +who had pleaded that the East-Coast +towns should be more promptly +warned of approaching air-raids. He +had personally investigated the arrangements +and was positively "staggered" +at "the wonderful network that had +been set up," and he invited Mr. +<span class="sc">Joynson-Hicks</span> to come with him +privately and share his amazement. +Mr. <span class="sc">Ellis Griffith</span> was not convinced. +He thought that there were still too +many strands of red tape in the network, +and reiterated the hope that the +<span class="sc">Derby</span> Committee would soon develop +into a Ministry of the Air.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday, March 23rd.</i>—A distressing +report in the papers this morning, +that the <i>Galloper</i> had been blown up +by the Germans, made the friends of +Sir <span class="sc">Frederick Smith</span> anxious. Had +he, on one of his periodical visits to +the trenches to see Friend <span class="sc">Winston</span>, +stumbled across an enemy mine? +Happily the report was grossly exaggerated. +The <i>Galloper</i> was only a light-ship, +and had not been destroyed by +the enemy but merely withdrawn by +the Trinity House; and on the Treasury +Bench this afternoon there was the +<span class="sc">Attorney-General</span> very much alive.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Trevelyan</span> had a motion on the +paper condemning the administration +of the Defence of the Realm Act, and +in support of it produced a sheaf of +cases, in which he said the Government +had abused its powers. Among +other acts of vile oppression they had +ravished from her home, on September +1st, while her father was away +shooting partridges, and had subsequently +interned without trial, a young +lady against whom no charge had been +formulated. It sounded very dreadful, +and someone called out, "Is this a +Russian case?"</p> + +<p>Then arose Sir F. E. <span class="sc">Smith</span>, and +with a few forensic gestures demolished +the house of cards that Mr. <span class="sc">Trevelyan</span> +had so laboriously erected. Most of his +cases were out of court because they +had already been in court, the decisions +he impugned being those of the +magistrates. As for the daughter of +the partridge-slayer she was an associate +of a notorious German spy, and +had come back from Switzerland with +a message for one of his agents. As +her case had been fully considered by +the late <span class="sc">Home Secretary</span> he suggested +that Mr. <span class="sc">Trevelyan</span> should talk to him +about it.</p> + +<p>This was the most pungent speech +of the afternoon. The most amusing +was that of Mr. <span class="sc">Ginnell</span>, who kept +the House in fits of laughter for ten +minutes while in his most rasping +tones he jerked out epigrams against +"this thing calling itself a Government." +The Coalition was described +as "two poisons blended, which could +not make a wholesome drink." Never +before has he had such a success. I +only hope it will not turn his head +and encourage him to attempt conscious +humour.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/219.png"><img width="100%" src="images/219.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Veteran</i> (<i>instructing "Bantam" in his duties as +sentry</i>). "<span class="sc">You look over there—there's the Germans. Don't you +worry about them—<i>they</i> won't 'urt you. But you watch those +blinking rats. <i>They'll</i> get you by the back of the leg and pull +you off the bloomin' fire-step in no time</span>!"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"<span class="sc">The World at War at —— Theatre +Only."</span></p> + +<p><i>Advt. in Evening Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We are relieved to find that the area +of conflict has been so much restricted.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page220" id="page220"></a>[pg 220]</span> + +<h2>FROM SOMEWHERE IN AFRICA.</h2> + +<p>We have just returned from another +of those little expeditions which are +becoming almost a habit with the —— Frontier +Force when in search of an +enemy whose discretion is only rivalled +by that of the German High Seas Fleet. +We moved out four days ago with +all the pomp of war—horse, foot and +guns, ambulances and long trains of +transport waggons, the fierce vivid +fighting of the desert before us. We +rode seventeen miles that day and +camped at some wells. As we rolled +ourselves in our blankets round the +camp-fires to rest for the glorious contest +of the morrow our hearts should +have been filled with dreams of undying +fame. But we were really wondering +when the squadron transport would +arrive with our porridge and sausages +for breakfast.</p> + +<p>Next morning we were in +the saddle by 3 <span class="sc">A.M.</span>, and +after some ten or twelve +hours of unbroken and undisputed +progress we captured +two Arab shepherds +in charge of as many as +eight sheep. This <i>succès +fou</i> was the cause of justifiable +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>In the first place we +scented liver and bacon for +breakfast. In the second +place it seemed to promise +a settlement of the long-standing +dispute between +me and the General. The +General has a preposterous +theory about the existence +and hostility of a vast number of +mythical Arabs in our immediate +neighbourhood. Now this is obviously +absurd. With the exception +of three palm-trees, which belong +to us, there is nothing but sand for +about two hundred miles in all directions, +and even an Arab cannot subsist +entirely on sand. Of course, if there +were any Arabs near us, they would be +so enraged at finding themselves at a +spot two hundred miles from anything +except sand that they would be violently +hostile to anyone, especially to +the people who had engaged the only +three palm-trees in the neighbourhood. +But it is their existence that I dispute +with the General. It is true he took a +most unfair dialectical advantage, about +a fortnight ago, by having a large battle. +But my contention is that the enemy +on this occasion were merely orange-sellers +from the nearest town, hired by +the General for the purpose of argument.</p> + +<p>These two shepherds, however, did +seem to support his theory of the existence +of Arabs, but as to their hostility +there was still room for doubt. They +were both extraordinarily old and unbelievably +dirty. Also they were, as +was very natural, extremely frightened. +Seeing that they knew themselves to +be the only living people for quite a +number of miles round, it must have +appeared to them that the entire —— Frontier +Force had come out solely +for the purpose of capturing them, and +that, as it had ridden some forty miles +to do it, it would not be in a good +temper. It was therefore rather hard +to judge of their hostility, because as +soon as they were confronted with the +General and the interpreter they gave +one yell of "Allah!" and fell flat, face +downwards, in the sand, from +which position they refused to move. +They would not even budge when the interpreter +took all their clothes off with +a view to searching them. They probably +thought this was merely a preliminary +to skinning them. When +they were finally induced to speak, I +believe they were understood to say +that we were the first men they'd seen +for eight years. I don't wonder they +were frightened. If you have lived all +your life all alone in the middle of a +howling desert with Grandfather it's a +very frightening thing when a complete +Frontier Force marches forty miles for +the sole purpose of capturing you.</p> + +<p>But the day's excitement was not +over yet. Towards evening I took my +troop off at a gallop in person and +captured a camel. It was a very young +camel, hardly bigger than a sheep on +stilts, and it cried like a child at the +sight of me. This, I hope, was not so +much due to my frightful appearance +in my red moustaches as to the fact +that it had probably never seen a man +at all (not being eight years old), let +alone an army.</p> + +<p>The curious aversion which it conceived +for my moustache threatened to +hold up the entire Frontier Force for +the rest of the day, for it would neither +be led nor driven. Fortunately, however, +we had a very black Soudanese +camel-driver with us as guide, and he +came and spat at it, which soothed it +considerably, and it followed him like +a lamb. We got it back to camp next +day and it is tied up near my tent. It +has apparently made up its mind to +waive the moustache question, and we +now spit at one another in the friendliest +fashion whenever I pass. I hope +in time to train it to bring up my bath +water in the morning from the three +palm-trees.</p> + +<p><i>Later.</i>—The camel was the last +episode of the campaign, and we returned +to —— yesterday. The total +bag of a four days' expedition was—sheep, +8; shepherds, 2; camel, 1. The +human section was subsequently released +on the grounds that their +political views were satisfactory.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/220.png"><img width="100%" src="images/220.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">A well-known octopus family, having heard of the +undersea photography, decides to pose.</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ON THE MENACE OF HOME-BAKERY.</h2> + +<blockquote><p> +["Women <i>can</i> bake bread if +they will. It is much easier than +trimming hats."—<i>"Housewife," +in "The Daily News."</i>] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Aminta, be not led away</p> +<p>By words that sanguine women say;</p> +<p>Though simpler be the baking bread</p> +<p>Than trimming gear for your fair head,</p> +<p>Let your concern remain, I ask,</p> +<p>The sterner and the nobler task.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The nobler task: I'll tell you why.</p> +<p>Shall Bloggs, our baker, wilt and die</p> +<p>For loss of trade, his brood of eight</p> +<p>Left destitute and desolate?</p> +<p>And must <i>I</i> perish 'neath the stress</p> +<p>Of culinary frightfulness?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>No, dear. The millinery art</p> +<p>Is where I'd have you play your part;</p> +<p>For, though your hats may work intense</p> +<p>Despite on my aesthetic sense,</p> +<p>Whatever pain their crudeness brings</p> +<p>At least I needn't eat the things.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>Commercial Candour.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"You never know your luck when you get +our <span class="sc">FRUIT</span>."—<i>Advt. in Irish Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"<i>Mr. Hayes.</i> Certainty is defined in Webster +as the maximum of our expectations. +(Loud laughter.)</p> + +<p><i>The Judge</i> (<i>laughing</i>). Let us get on. This +is more like <i>Punch</i> than anything else. +(Laughter.)"—<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>It will now have to be called the +Supreme Court of Punch and Judicature.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page221" id="page221"></a>[pg 221]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/221.png"><img width="100%" src="images/221.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Dear Old Lady.</i> <span class="sc">"It must be a great strain for +the man up the periscope."</span></p> + +<p><i>Nephew.</i> <span class="sc">"Yes, he has a thin time."</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>PULP FAMINE NOTICES.</h2> + +<h3>(<i>A Hint to Reviewers.</i>)</h3> + +<p>A <span class="sc">WRITER</span> in a recent issue of <i>The +Daily Chronicle</i> prefaces a column of +novel notices with the following remarks: +"The smaller papers consequent +upon the famine in 'pulp' have +made the reviewing of the new novels +rather a job, but at least it is possible +to give news of them."</p> + +<p>But the writer tackles his job in a +half-hearted manner, using such ponderous +polysyllables as "international" +and "acquisition." Now Mr. Punch, +always ready to lend a hand in a good +cause, has instructed one of his young +men to rewrite two of <i>The Chronicle</i> +reviews in words of one syllable, and +presents them to his contemporary as +models for imitation in the future.</p> + +<p><b>I.—Mrs. Ward.</b></p> + +<p><span class="sc">A Great Hit.</span> By Mrs. Hump. Ward. +Lond., Smith, Eld., <i>3s. 6d.</i> net.</p> + +<p>For the most part Mrs. <span class="sc">Ward</span> writes +long yarns, and those who read her +books look to her for more than five +score thou. words. Here she gives us +a short tale in which the three chief +<i>rôles</i> are filled by a man who earns +lots of dibs by his pen, his wife, and +their, or his, friend—a peer's wife, +who takes him up for her own ends. +She tries in her hard bright way to +shape his course as she views it, which +means a place in the sun for <i>her</i>. The +wife, who has brains as well as a warm +heart, will not be robbed of her man +like this, puts up a good fight, and in +the end has the best of the bout with +the pale witch with dark eyes who had +waved her wand o'er the knight of the +pen. It is not poss. to deal with all the +points of Mrs. <span class="sc">Hump. Ward's</span> book in +words of one syll., but we can at least +say here is a good tale to speed the +flight of the hours of eve.</p> + +<p><b>II.-The Bills.</b></p> + +<p><span class="sc">The Shop Girl.</span> By C. N. and A. M. +Sons o' Bill. Lond., Meth., <i>6s.</i></p> + +<p><i>Miss Child</i> is a nice sweet girl with +lots of sense who goes to the land of +the Yanks and makes things hum a bit +in a nice sweet way. She meets her +fate on board the big ship on the way +out; but a long and bright yarn has to +be read ere she makes the Port of Joy. +We see a Yank store in full swing, +learn much of the way it is worked, +and the folk who run it are well drawn. +To be frank one could scarce think that +so <i>chic</i> a tale could be made out of the +prose of New York. But to the Bills—if +I may so call them—all the world is +a stage, and they see through the heart +of the New Eve with a gaze that is +quite weird. In fine this is a tale in +which the Bills, while they take new +ground, write with all their old <i>flair</i> +and charm.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>FORAIN.</h3> + +<p>When <span class="sc">M. Raemaekers</span> went to Paris +the other day to receive his decoration +and be fêted for his fine pro-Ally spirit, +it was M. <span class="sc">Forain</span>, as the head of living +French cartoonists, who received him +in the name of France and conferred +the Order. M. <span class="sc">Forain's</span> public appearances +are nowadays few and far between, +but he still wields—and none +more searchingly—a pencil keen and +swift as a sword, and he never takes +it in hand but to create something +memorable. A selection of his recent +work is now on view in London at +22, Montagu Square, the residence of +Mr. <span class="sc">Campbell Dodgson</span>, the Keeper of +the Prints at the British Museum, the +proceeds of the entrance fees being +intended for a hospital for French +wounded soldiers at Arc-en-Barrois. +The little exhibition, which should be +seen by all who love great draughtsmanship +and France, remains open +until April 1.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page222" id="page222"></a>[pg 222]</span> + +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> + +<p><span class="sc">"The Barton Mystery."</span></p> + +<p>One of the most difficult feats of +juggling is, I understand, the deft tossing +up and catching of a heavy weight +(say a dumb-bell), a very light weight, +such as a champagne cork, together +with any old thing of irregular shape, +a bedroom candlestick, for instance. +Mr. <span class="sc">Walter Hackett's</span> <i>The Barton +Mystery</i> is a most ingenious turn of +this sort.</p> + +<p>The <i>fiancé</i> of the sister of the wife of +<i>Richard Standish, M.P.</i>, is under sentence +of death for the murder of <i>Mr. +Barton</i>. He happens to be innocent, +though he admits at the trial that he +quarrelled violently with and even +threatened <i>Barton</i> on the night of the +murder, and his revolver has been found +by the dead man's side. That vindictive +relict, <i>Mrs. Barton</i>, is holding back some +material evidence which could save the +condemned man, or so <i>Standish</i> thinks, +and she is adamant. Now <i>Barton</i> was +unquestionably a bad egg, but the +widow doesn't want the whole world +to know it—at least not till she finds +the woman. Some woman, who had +incidentally written some, shall we say, +very impetuous love letters, is being +shielded. Who is she? Is it <i>Standish's</i> +wife, for instance? Ah!... This is +the dumb-bell.</p> + +<p>A <i>Lady Marshall</i>, the wife of a <i>Sir +Everard Marshall</i>, a comic scientist in +perpetual flight from his overwhelming +spouse, is one of the sort that finds a +new religion every few months and is +now in the first fast furious throes of +her latest, which is some form of psychomania, +whereof the high priest is one +<i>Beverley</i>, a plausible ringletted charlatan +of alcoholic tendencies (<i>Sludge the +Medium</i>, without his cringe and snarl), +who ekes out his spasmodic visitations +of genuine psychic illumination with +the most shameless spoof. This is +the cork.</p> + +<p>The candlestick is the dream <i>motif</i>, +always a ticklish business to handle, +and in this particular case—well, no, I +won't be such a spoil-sport as to go into +that, for the chief pleasure of this kind +of an entertainment is the succession +of pleasant unexpected shocks which +are deftly administered to the audience +by the author.</p> + +<p>There were times indeed when the +latter nearly dropped his dumb-bell—times +when it was in imminent peril +of barging into the cork; and most +certainly the candlestick very nearly +slipped out of his hand. But it just +didn't, so you will see that it was really +a most exceptional piece of jugglery. +Of course I will admit you have to +swallow the robust assumption that +into a household over which the shadow +of death in its ugliest form hovers so +threateningly two fatuous people, to +wit the scientist and his wife, can +come and babble about their own +trivial domestic troubles or their latest +philosophy of life. But then mystery +plays always are like that, and this is a +jolly good one of its kind—a kind which +it pains me, as a superior person, to +confess that I liked enormously.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/222.png"><img width="100%" src="images/222.png" alt=""/></a><p>THE MEDIUM AND THE PALMIST.</p> + +<p><i>Beverley</i> ... Mr. <span class="sc">H. B. Irving</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Sir Everard Marshall</i> ... Mr. <span class="sc">Holman Clark</span>.</p></div> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">H. B. Irving</span> as the preposterous +<i>Beverley</i> was in his very best form. +<i>Beverley</i> is really a creation. How +much the author's and how much the +player's it would be an impertinence +to inquire. This imperturbable trickster +with his thin streak of genuine sensitiveness +to psychic influence; his +grotesquely florid style—the man certainly +has style; his frank reliance on +apt alcohol's artful aid; his cadging +epicureanism; his keen eye for supplementary +data for his inductions and +prophecies; his cynical candour when +detected, is presented to us with Mr. +<span class="sc">Irving's</span> rich-flavoured and most whimsical +sense of comedy, with all his +exuberant abundance of gracious or +fantastic gesture and resourceful business. +In the trances, sometimes real, +sometimes simulated, he gives you a +plausible sketch of how a modicum of +psychic power (whatever that may be), +laced with whisky neat, might colour +a séance. Mr. <i>Hackett</i>, by way of +showing that he has not ignored the +literature of his subject, has adapted +from the admirable, but, I regret to +say, entirely untrustworthy, because +incurably original, <span class="sc">Maeterlinck</span> an entirely +new definition of psychometry. +But we certainly will not go into that.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Holman Clark</span> as the sceptical +<i>Sir Everard</i>, completely spoofed by +<i>Beverley</i> in the end, with an elaborate +make-up ruthlessly reminding us of +our simian ancestry, potters cleverly +about the stage with that admirable +and amiable craft which he has at such +easy command. Miss <span class="sc">Marie Illington</span> +as <i>Lady Marshall</i>, the seeker after +light, kept the burlesquerie of her part +skilfully within bounds—indeed this +matter of key was extraordinarily well +handled by the three players entrusted +with what I have ventured to call the +cork <i>motif</i>.</p> + +<p>As to the more serious business, Mr. +<span class="sc">H. V. Esmond</span> seemed to behave very +much as one would imagine a decent +M.P. behaving in such embarrassing +circumstances. He suspected his wife +with all the ardour which public +men on the stage always exhibit. His +little turn of desperate tragedy carried +conviction—almost too much conviction, +as you will find—but I won't +explain.</p> + +<p>Miss <span class="sc">Jessie Winter</span>, as his wife, +very adroitly contrived an ambiguous +effect of likely guilt but possible innocence. +She more than fulfils the promise +of her last performance in this +theatre, but she must (may I tell her?) +arrest the development of "the Fatal +Cæsura," that exasperating histrionic +device whereby every salient phrase +is broken up for no conceivable reason +into two halves. In the secondary +stages there is but slender hope of a +cure; in the tertiary there is none.</p> + +<p>Miss <span class="sc">Darragh</span> was, as required, the +vindictive widow to the life (this kind +of life, you understand), and Miss <span class="sc">Hilda +Bayley</span> played very charmingly the +little wilful <i>fiancée</i> who—but no, I must +keep my promise.</p> + +<p>With much less evidence than the +applause and generally keyed-up attitude +of the Savoy audience afforded me, +I could risk a psychic communication +in the authentic manner of a Beverley +séance. "All is dark.... It is getting +light.... I see a man.... He leans +eagerly to a telephone.... He thrusts +something into envelopes. He goes on +thrusting things into envelopes. The +telephone keeps ringing.... It is.... +Can it be? Yes, it <i>is</i> a Box Office." An +institution which at the Savoy should be +busy for many months to come.</p> + +<p>T.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A Misnomer.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"In memory of the name of the late Dr. +F. C. Batchelor it is proposed that the name +of the Forth Street Maternity Hospital (Dunedin) +be altered to that of the Batchelor +Hospital."—<i>Southland Times</i> (<i>N.Z.</i>) +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page223" id="page223"></a>[pg 223]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/223.png"><img width="100%" src="images/223.png" alt="" /></a><p> <i>Mother.</i> <span class="sc">"Did you remember to pray for +everybody, dear?"</span></p> + +<p><i>Daughter.</i> <span class="sc">"Well, Mummy, I prayed for you, but Jack prayed for +Daddy. He's looking after him just now</span>."</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>MUSIC IN WAR TIME.</h2> + +<h3>The Converted Collector.</h3> + +<p>(<i>An Order in Council prohibits the importation +of all musical instruments.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>In ancient, peaceful <i>ante-bellum</i> days—</p> +<p>Now far remote as <span class="sc">Hannibal's</span> or <span class="sc">Hanno's</span>—</p> +<p>I had a weakness, possibly a craze,</p> +<p>For buying Hun pianos.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I let no patriotic sentiment</p> +<p>My honest inclination curb or fetter;</p> +<p>On foreign articles my cash I spent,</p> +<p>Because I liked them better.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Nor would I now proscribe Germanic Art,</p> +<p>Their one surviving claim to lasting glory,</p> +<p>Or bar <span class="sc">Beethoven, Wagner, Bach, Mozart—</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">Strauss</span> is another story.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But while our enemy unshattered stands</p> +<p>In any single theatre or sector,</p> +<p>I take no interest in German "grands,"</p> +<p>As player or collector.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I will not have them broken up or burned,</p> +<p>Although they cease to give me delectation,</p> +<p>That mean to keep them suitably interned</p> +<p>Throughout the War's duration.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But now the Board of Trade, those lynx-eyed gents,</p> +<p>Our economic needs severely scanning,</p> +<p>The importation of all instruments</p> +<p>Have just resolved on banning.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>No matter; I possess a set of pipes</p> +<p>Made in the land whose emblem is the Thistle;</p> +<p>Three Indian tom-toms of peculiar types</p> +<p>And a Bolivian whistle.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I've a Peruvian nose-flute, made of bone,</p> +<p>A war-conch brought me from the South Pacific,</p> +<p>Which, by a leather-lunged performer blown,</p> +<p>Is really quite horrific.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I have some balalaikas, few though fit,</p> +<p>Whose strings I have acquired some skill in tweaking;</p> +<p>And several pifferi, whose tubes emit</p> +<p>A most unearthly squeaking.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I am, alas! too old and weak to fight,</p> +<p>But on these non-Teutonic pipes and tabors</p> +<p>I hope a martial spirit to incite</p> +<p>In "conscientious" neighbours.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And when my time, as soon it must, shall come,</p> +<p>My epitaph perhaps might thus begin well:</p> +<p>"He 'did his bit' upon the Indian drum;</p> +<p>He played the mandolin well.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Others who stayed at home to criticize</p> +<p>More vocal proved; he, on a falling rental,</p> +<p>In furthering the cause of the Allies</p> +<p>Was always instrumental."</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p>In an account of a <span class="sc">Burns</span>' celebration +given by the <i>North Battleford News</i> +(Saskatchewan), it is remarked that "the +absence of any kind of spirituous liquors +around the festive board and the fact +that the ladies were present" were +unique features of the entertainment. +But, according to the same report, there +was yet another: "'The Immoral +Memory' was given by Rev. D. +Munro."</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page224" id="page224"></a>[pg 224]</span> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<h3>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerics.</i>)</h3> + +<p>It is a tragic coincidence that, just as <span class="sc">Rupert Brooke's</span> +now famous sonnets were published in volume form after +his own death, the appearance of his <i>Letters from America</i> +(<span class="sc">Sidgwick and Jackson</span>) follows immediately upon the +death of Mr. <span class="sc">Henry James</span>, who had written the preface +to them. Thus in one book we have the last work of two +writers, widely separated in age and circumstance, but +united by a very real bond of artistic and personal +sympathy. How generous was the elder man's appreciation +of the younger may be seen in this preface; it is at its best +and simplest in dealing with that charm of personality by +which all who knew <span class="sc">Rupert Brooke</span> will most vividly +remember him. Elsewhere it must be confessed that the +preface is by no means easy reading, so that one emerges +at last a little breathless upon the transparent and sunlit +stream of the <i>Letters</i> themselves. Many who recall these +from their publication in <i>The Westminster Gazette</i> will be +glad to meet them again. Those who knew the writer only +as the poet of 1914 will perhaps +wonder to find him the +whimsical and smiling young +adventurer who moves with +such boyish enjoyment through +these pages. There is holiday +humour in them, even in the +occasional statistics—holiday +tasks, these latter; and everywhere +the freshness of an unclouded +vision. "Only just in +time," one thinks, sharing the +happiness that his <i>Letters</i> +reflect, and grateful for it as +for a beautiful thing snatched +so narrowly from fate.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mrs. <span class="sc">Belloc Lowndes</span> has +written a story of the War +that has at least the distinction +of being absolutely +fair. She has indeed got so +far away from the perhaps +excusable error of painting +Germans uniformly black that her Huns in <i>The Red +Cross Barge</i> (<span class="sc">Smith, Elder</span>) are made upon the average +quite as attractive as their enemies. This by way of +warning, so that if you are in no mood to look for +pearls amid swine you may avoid some impatience and +a feeling that impartiality can be carried too far. Not by +any means that <i>The Red Cross Barge</i> is a pro-German +book.... There is an attractive sense of atmosphere about +Mrs. <span class="sc">Lowndes</span>' picture of the little French town in which +a group of Germans are left during what appears to them +the triumphal march to Paris. Here <i>Herr Doktor Max +Keller</i> meets and falls in love with a French girl who is +looking after certain wounded of both nations. The peaceful +and picturesque air of the little place during this quiet +occupation is well contrasted with the horrors that befall +it when the draggled and drink-sodden soldiery come surging +back in their retreat from the Marne. Eventually, just as +the Germans are leaving, <i>Keller</i> is fatally wounded, and +dies holding the hand of the enemy who has become so +dear to him. One can hardly call the tale anything but +sentimental, but it is sentiment of a fragrant and wholesome +kind. In the years to come such stories will no +doubt multiply indefinitely, but there will be few more +gracefully and gently told.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/224.png"><img width="100%" src="images/224.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Corporal (alluding to knock-kneed man).</i> <span class="sc">"It's +no good; 'e never looks smart. Look at 'im now—the top 'alf of 'is legs +standing to attention and the bottom 'alf standing at ease!"</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Richard Pryce</span>, true to the fashion of describing +the childhood of heroes at great length, has in <i>David +Penstephen</i> (<span class="sc">Methuen</span>) out-<span class="sc">Comptoned Mackenzie</span>. <i>David</i> +in fact dallied so persistently in the nursery that I began +to wonder if he would ever emerge; but, when he does +get a move on, his story is strangely appealing. His father +and mother, having ideas of their own, had excused themselves +from the formalities of wedlock, and before <i>Mrs. +Penstephen</i> broke down under the strain of this omission +<i>David</i> and his sister, <i>Georgiana</i>, were born. Subsequently +the parents were married, and had another son. But before +this legitimate addition to the family a boating accident had +deprived the world of two cousins of <i>Penstephen père</i>, and +in consequence he inherited a baronetcy. This change of +fortune affected his views, and as time passed by he became +as orthodox a baronet as any you could wish to find in <i>Burke</i>. +All of which was galling to <i>David's</i> mother, who loved and +was jealous for those children who were born to suffer for +their parents' original morals. The situation required very +delicate handling, and Mr. <span class="sc">Pryce</span> is to be congratulated +warmly upon the manner in which he has developed it. +Perhaps a little more humour +would have added salt to the +tale, but however that may be +we have a careful study of a +boy and an exquisitely sympathetic +portrait of a mother. +The latter part of the book +is admirable both in what it +tells and in what it merely +suggests. More is the pity +that Mr. <span class="sc">Pryce</span> has weighed +down <i>David's</i> childish back +with too heavy a load of detail. +My advice to you is to skip +some of the earlier pages, and +so husband your strength for +the better enjoyment of the +remainder.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>The Duel</i> (<span class="sc">Allen and +Unwin</span>) is a study in the +<span class="sc">Gorky</span> tradition, by <span class="sc">Alexander +Kuprin</span>, of life in an +obscure Russian regiment and +an out-of-the-way provincial town before the great awakening +that followed Mukden and Port Arthur purged away +much dross and prepared the way for these latter days of +sacrifice and heroism. It is a mournful document, a piece +of devil's advocacy, a Russian counterpart of Lieutenant +<span class="sc">Bilse's</span> <i>Life in a Garrison Town</i>, identical in temper and +astonishingly similar in some of its detail. It is clear that +the author, who was for seven years an infantry lieutenant +and probably little fitted for the military life even at its best, +endured much unhappiness, for the marks of suffering have +burnt themselves into the book so savagely that the English +translation, though characterized by a crudity which might +reasonably be expected to accomplish much in the way of +eliminating the personality of the author, cannot quite +rob his work of its impression of power and intimate +tragedy. Those who are not in search of light refreshment +and who will remember that this last decade of +Russian national regeneration and reorganisation has +rooted up the incompetence, the false standards, the irregular +discipline and the inhuman barriers between officers +and men here commented upon, may read these bitter +chapters with profit. As for the translator, he might do +well to study one of the <span class="sc">Garnett Turgenieffs</span>, and see +how this kind of thing should be done.</p> +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +150, March 29, 1916, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 22688-h.htm or 22688-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/6/8/22688/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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