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diff --git a/22957.txt b/22957.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d14a274 --- /dev/null +++ b/22957.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2153 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, +April 14, 1920, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, April 14, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: October 11, 2007 [EBook #22957] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Matt Whittaker, Jonathan Ingram and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +*** Transcriber's Note: typo "thundebrolt" changed to thunderbolt on page +267. The symbol + was used to bracket where text appeared upside down in +the original. *** + + + + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +Vol. 158. + + + + +April 14, 1920. + + + + +CHARIVARIA. + +"Hat-pins to match the colour of the eyes are to be very fashionable this +year," according to a Trade journal. This should be good news to those +Tube-travellers who object to having green hat-pins stuck in their blue +eyes. + + * * * + +Enterprise cannot be dead if it is really true that a well-known publisher +has at last managed to persuade Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL to write a few words +concerning the Labour Question. + + * * * + +"I have never been knocked down by a motor omnibus," says Mr. JUSTICE +DARLING. The famous judge should not complain. He must take his turn like +the rest of us. + + * * * + +"Never pull the doorbell too hard" is the advice of a writer on etiquette +in a ladies' journal. When calling at a new wooden house the safest plan is +not to pull the bell at all. + + * * * + +"American bacon opened stronger yesterday," says a market report. If it +opened any stronger than the last lot we bought it must have "gone some." + + * * * + +Five golf balls were discovered inside a cow which was found dead last week +on a Hertfordshire golf course. We understand that a certain member of the +Club who lost half-a-dozen balls at Easter-time has demanded a recount. + + * * * + +"An Englishman's place is by his own fireside," declares a writer in the +Sunday Press. This is the first intimation we have received that +Spring-cleaning is over. + + * * * + +A serious quarrel between two prominent Sinn Feiners is reported. It +appears that one accused the other of being "no murderer." + + * * * + +_The Commercial Bribery and Tipping Review_, a new American publication, +offers a prize of four pounds for the best article on "Why I believe +barbers should not be tipped." The barbers claim that what they receive is +not a tip, but the Price of Silence. + + * * * + +According to an evening paper, crowds can be seen in London every day +waiting to go into the pit. Oh, if only they were miners! + + * * * + +"It is the last whisky at night which always overcomes me," said a +defendant at the Guildhall. "A good plan," says a correspondent, "is to +finish with the last whisky but one." + + * * * + +The British Admiralty are offering two hundred and fifty war vessels for +sale. This is just the chance for people who contemplate setting up in +business as a new country. + + * * * + +"A good tailor," says a fashion writer, "can always give his customer a +good fit if he tries." All he has to do, of course, is to send the bill in. + + * * * + +Mr. ALLDAY, a resident in Lundy Island for twenty years, who has just +arrived in London, states that he has never seen a tax-collector. There is +some talk of starting a fund with the object of presenting him with one. + + * * * + +Dunmow workhouse is offered for sale. A great many people are anxious to +buy it with the object of putting it aside for a rainy day. + + * * * + +A Houndsditch firm has just had a telephone installed which was ordered six +years ago. This, however, is not a record. Quite a number of instruments +have been fitted up in less time than this. + + * * * + +We understand that the thunderbolt which fell at Chester is not the one +that the PREMIER intended to drop this month. + + * * * + +Signor CAPRONI, lecturing in New York, says that aeroplanes capable of +carrying five hundred passengers will shortly be constructed. We can only +say that anybody can have our seat. + + * * * + +Since _The Daily Express_ tirade against the officials of the Zoo visitors +are requested not to go too near the Fellows. + + * * * + +"The French army," says the _Berliner Tageblatt_, "will soon be all over." +It does not say what; but if our late enemy continues the violation of the +Peace Treaty the missing word should be "Germany." + + * * * + +Birds, says _The Times_, are nesting in the plane-trees of Printing House +Square. Some of the fledglings, we are informed, are already learning to +whistle the familiar Northcliffe air, "LLOYD GEORGE Must Go," quite +distinctly. + + * * * + +The National Portrait Gallery, occupied by the War Office since 1914, has +just been reopened. The rumour that a Brigadier-General who had eluded all +attempts to evacuate him was still hanging about disguised as a portrait of +Mrs. SIDDONS attracted a large attendance. + + * * * + +The Corporation of Waterford has refused to recognise "Summer" time. One +gathers that it is still the winter of their discontent down there. + + * * * + +Sinn Feiners are now asking for the abolition of the Royal Irish +Constabulary, and it is feared that, unless their request is granted, they +may resort to violence. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THOUGH THE MATERIAL, SIR, IS SOMEWHAT MORE EXPENSIVE, THE +LEATHER BRACE HAS THE GREAT ADVANTAGE THAT IT LASTS FOR EVER; AND, +MOREOVER, WHEN IT WEARS OUT IT MAKES AN EXCELLENT RAZOR-STROP."] + + * * * * * + + "Mrs. ---- Requires useful Ladies' Maid, for Bath and country; only + ex-soldier or sailor need apply."--_Provincial Paper._ + +A job that will obviously need a man of proved courage. + + * * * * * + +WISDOM UP TO DATE--12TH EDITION. + + [_The Times_ has announced, in two consecutive issues, that Mr. HUGH + CHISHOLM has retired from the control of its financial columns in + order to resume his editorship of the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_. One + seems here to catch a faint echo of the proprietary booming of the + 10th Edition by _The Times_ and Mr. HOOPER. The present publishers are + the Cambridge University Press.] + + It is a common object of remark + How many things in life are periodic, + Some punctual (like the nesting of the lark, + Or Derby-day), and others more spasmodic, + Recurring loosely when the hour is ripe; + And here I sing a sample of the latter type. + + Nine years have coursed with their accustomed speed + Since England hailed its previous apparition, + Since every man and woman who could read, + Wanting the nearest way to erudition, + Bought as an ornament of her (or his) home + The monumental masterpiece of Mr. CHISHOLM. + + Much has occurred meanwhile of new and strange; + _E.g._, in matters purely scientific + Great Thinkers, eager to enlarge our range, + Have (on the lethal side) been most prolific; + Ten tomes would scarce contain what might be said on + Their contributions to the recent Armageddon. + + What wonder if the Editor forsakes + The conduct of _The Times'_ financial pages? + An even weightier task he undertakes + Than to report on bullion; he engages + To let us know, by 1922, + All things (or more) that anybody ever knew. + + Why should he care if Oil-cakes fall or jump? + He has the Total Universe for oyster; + Yankees may yield a point or Rubbers slump, + Yet not for such things shall his eye grow moister, + Save when, by force of habit, he admits + "A heavy tendency to-day in Ency. Brits." + + Could but _The Times_ revive its ancient part, + Repeat its famous turn of dollar-scooping! + O memories of the urgent boomster's art, + And that persistent noise of HOOPER whooping, + Down to the Last Chance and the Closing Door, + And then the Absolutely Last, and then some more! + + Those shrill appeals to get the Work TO-DAY + (With the superb revolving fumed-oak garage)-- + How well they followed up their fearful prey + Till the massed thunders of the final barrage + Such pressure on your tympanum would bring + That you could bear no more, and _had_ to buy the thing. + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +The Giant's Robe--Cheap. + + "FOR SALE.--Superior Dress Suit, 37 chest, City made, silk facings and + lining, worn twice, no further use, suitable for individual 7 ft. 8 + in. Price 4 guineas."--_Local Paper._ + + * * * * * + + "PAYING GUESTS WANTED--From 1st June, married couple with no children; + also at once, single married lady or gentleman for three single rooms + or one single married couple."--_Indian Paper._ + +To be in keeping with the inhabitants the house, no doubt, is +"semi-detached." + + * * * * * + + "250 WORDS. TWO GUINEAS. + THE YOUNG WIFE'S ALLOWANCE." + + _Daily Paper._ + +The young husband who tries to get off for two guineas will find that the +young wife regards two hundred and fifty words as entirely inadequate. + + * * * * * + +OUR SUPER-PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. + +The meagre and tantalizing report of Lord Northsquith's great journey +through Spain and North Africa which has been issued through Reuter's +agency has stimulated but not allayed curiosity. It is therefore with +unfeigned pleasure that we are able to supplement this jejune summary with +some absolutely authentic details supplied us by a Levantine detective of +unimpeachable veracity who shadowed the party. + +Of the journey through Spain he has little to say. Lord Northsquith +attended a bull-fight at Seville, at which an extraordinary incident +occurred. At the moment when the distinguished visitor entered the ring and +was taking his seat in the Royal Box, the bull, a huge and remarkably +ferocious animal, suddenly threw up its hind legs and, after pawing the air +convulsively for a few seconds, fell dead on the spot. No reason could be +assigned for this rash act, which caused a very painful impression, but it +is a curious fact that it synchronized exactly with the issue of the +special edition of the Seville evening _Tarantula_, with the placard +"Strange behaviour (_extravagancia_) of the British Prime Minister." + +At a subsequent interview with Count ROMANONES, Lord Northsquith was +reluctantly obliged to confirm the statement that Mr. LLOYD GEORGE was +still under the impression that the Spanish Alhambra was a late replica of +a theatre in London, but begged him not to attach undue importance to the +misapprehension. + +The tour in Morocco was not attended by any specially untoward incidents, +but at Marrakesh a group of Berbers evinced some hostility, which was +promptly converted into effusive enthusiasm on their learning that Lord +Northsquith was not of Welsh origin. Similar assurances were conveyed to +the sardine-fishers of the coast, with beneficial results. The Pasha of +Marrakesh expressed the hope that Lord Northsquith was not disappointed +with the Morocco Atlas, and the illustrious stranger wittily rejoined, "No, +but you should see my new morocco-bound _Times_ Atlas." When the remark was +translated to the Pasha he laughed very courteously. + +Always interested in the relics of the mighty past Lord Northsquith made a +special trip to the East Algerian Highlands to visit Timgad, and spent +several minutes in the _tepidarium_ of the Roman baths. It was understood +from the expression of his features that he was profoundly impressed by the +superiority of the arrangements over those contemplated by the Coalition +Minister of Health in the new bath-houses to be erected in Limehouse. + +Lastly the tour included a flying visit to Carthage. The French +archaeologists in charge of the excavations had recently dug up a colossal +statue of HANNIBAL, and the resemblance to Lord Northsquith was so +extraordinary that many of them were moved to transports of delight. They +were however unanimous in their conviction that the deplorable state of the +ruins was largely, if not entirely, due to Mr. LLOYD GEORGE'S ignorance of +Phoenician geography. + + * * * * * + +A Startling Disclosure. + +From "Answers to Correspondents" in a Canadian Paper: + + "Q.--Is it not a fact, that all of Lipton's challengers were built + stronger and heavier than the American cup defenders, to enable them + to cross the Atlantic?--A. D. B., Montreal. + + A.--Yes, they were built stronger as they had to cross the ocean under + their own steam." + + * * * * * + + "Serious injuries were sustained by ----, aged 54, while assisting in + discharging cargo. Shortly before one o'clock, it is stated, a cheese + struck him and knocked him down."--_Provincial Paper._ + +We have always maintained that these dangerous creatures should not be +allowed to run loose. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE "WITHDRAWAL" FROM MOSCOW. + +CHORUS OF HALF-REVOLUTIONISTS SUPPORT MESSRS. SNOWDEN AND RAMSAY MACDONALD +BY SINGING "THE RED (BUT NOT TOO RED) FLAG." + +[The Independent Labour Party by a large majority has voted in favour of +withdrawing from the Moscow Internationale.]] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: TENNIS PROSPECTS.] + + * * * * * + +LITTLE BITS OF LONDON. + +THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. + +The guide-books have a good deal to say about the Houses of Parliament, but +the people who write guide-books never go to the really amusing places and +never know the really interesting things. For instance they have never yet +explained what it is that the House of Commons smells of. I do not refer to +the actual Chamber, which merely smells like the Tube, but the lofty +passages and lobbies where the statues are. The smell, I think, is a +mixture of cathedrals and soap. It is a baffling but rather seductive +smell, and they tell me that the policemen miss it when they are +transferred to point-duty. Possibly it is this smell which makes +ex-Premiers want to go back there. + +But let us have no cheap mockery of the Houses of Parliament, because there +is a lot to be said for them. They are much the best houses for +hide-and-seek I know. The parts which are dear to the public, the cathedral +parts, are no good for that, but behind them and under them and all round +them there are miles and miles of superb secret passages and back +staircases, the very place for a wet afternoon. They are decorated like +second-class waiting-rooms and lead to a lot of rooms like third-class +waiting-rooms; and at every corner there is a policeman; but this only adds +to the excitement. Besides, at any moment you may blunder into some very +secret waiting-room labelled "Serjeant-at-Arms." + +If you are seen by the SERJEANT-AT-ARMS you have lost the game, and if you +are seen by a Lord of the Treasury I gather from the policemen that you +would be put in the Tower. Or you may start light-heartedly from the +Refreshment Department of the House of Commons and find yourself suddenly +in the bowels of the House of Lords, probably in the very passage to the +LORD CHANCELLOR'S Secretary's Room. + +Still, there is no other way for Private Secretaries to take exercise and +at the same time avoid their Members without actually leaving the building, +so risks of that sort have to be faced. + +While the Private Secretary is playing hide-and-seek in the passages and +purlieus his Member waits for him in the Secretaries' Room. The +Secretaries' Room is the real seat of legislation in this country, and it +is surprising that Mr. BAGEHOT gave it no place in his account of the +Constitution. It is also surprising, in view of its importance, that it +should be such a dismal, ill-furnished and thoroughly mouldy room. It is a +rotten room. Mr. ASQUITH, when a Private Secretary, is reported to have +said of it, "In the whole course of my political career I can recall no +case of administrative myopia at all parallel to the folly or ineptitude +which has condemned the authors of legislation in His Majesty's Parliament +to discharge their functions in this grotesque travesty of a legislative +chamber, this sombre and obscure repository of mouldering archives and +forgotten records, where the constructive statesmen of to-morrow are +expected to shape their Utopias in an atmosphere of disillusion and decay, +in surroundings appointed to be the shameful sepulchre of the nostrums of +the past." If that is what Mr. ASQUITH said, I agree with him; if he didn't +say it, I wish he had. + +The room is pitch-dark always, and it is full of tables and tomes. The +tables are waiting-room tables and the tomes are as Mr. ASQUITH has +described them. It is divided into two by a swing-door. One part is the +female Private Secretary part, the other is the male Private Secretary +part, and it is lamentable to record that no romance has ever occurred +between a male Private Secretary and a female one. + +The room is plentifully supplied with House of Commons' stationery, which +disappears at an astonishing rate. This is because the Members come in and +remove it by the gross, knowing full well that the SERJEANT-AT-ARMS will +suspect the Private Secretaries. It is a hard world. + +However, this is where the Members come to their Private Secretaries for +instructions. They come there nominally to dictate letters to their +constituents, but really they come to be told what amendments to move and +what questions to ask and what the Drainage Bill is about, and whether they +ought to support the Dentist Qualification (Ireland) (No. 2) Bill, or not. +It is awful to think that if the Private Secretaries downed tools the whole +machinery of Parliament would stop. No questions would be asked and no +amendments moved and no speeches made. The Government would have things all +their own way. Unless, of course, the Government's Private Secretaries +struck too. But of course the Government's Private Secretaries never would, +the dirty blacklegs! + +After the Secretaries' Room perhaps the most interesting thing in the two +Houses is the House of Lords sitting as the Supreme Court. Everybody ought +to see that. There is a nice old man sitting in the middle in plain clothes +and several other nice old men in plain clothes sitting about on the +benches, with little card-tables in front of them. Two or three of them +have beards, which is against the best traditions of the Law. But they are +very jolly old men, and now and then one of them sits up and moves his +lips. You can see then that he is putting a sly question to the barrister +who is talking at the counter, though you can't hear anything because they +all whisper. While the barrister is answering, another old man wakes up and +puts a sly question, so as to confuse the barrister. That is the game. The +barrister who gets thoroughly annoyed first loses the case. + +They have quite enough to annoy them already. They are all cooped up in a +minute pen about eight feet square. There are eight of them, four K.C.'s +and four underlings. They have nowhere to put their papers and nowhere to +stretch their legs. They sit there getting cramp, or they stand at the +counter talking to the old men. In either position they grow more and more +annoyed. Four of them are famous men, earning thousands and thousands. Why +do they endure it? Because lawyers, contrary to the common belief, are the +most long-suffering profession in the world. That is why they are the only +Trade Union whose members have only half-an-hour for lunch. Well, it is +their funeral; but if I were a K.C. sitting in that pen, with the whole of +the House of Lords empty in front of me, I should get over the counter and +walk about. Then the LORD CHANCELLOR might have a fit; and that alone would +make it worth while. + +The only other interesting place in the Houses of Parliament is the +Strangers' Dining Room. This is interesting because the Members there are +all terrified lest you should hear what they are going to say. They never +know who may be at the next table--a journalist or a Bolshevist or a +landowner--and they talk with one eye permanently over their shoulder. It +must be very painful. + +But of course the best time to visit the House is when it is not sitting, +because then, if you are lucky, you may sit with impunity on the Front +Bench and put your feet up on the table. If you are unlucky you will be +shot at dawn. + +A. P. H. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Excitable Tenor_ (_during dispute about the bill_). "BUT, +MY FRIEND, YOU NOT KNOW ME WHO I AM--NO? I AM SPOFFERINO. TO-NIGHT I SING +AT ZE OPERA--'BUTTERFLY.'" + +_Waiter_ (_unimpressed_). "UM--YOU _LOOK_ LIKE A BUTTERFLY!"] + + * * * * * + + "----'S BOOTS + HAVE BEEN + IN EVERYBODY'S MOUTH." + + _Advt. in Local Paper._ + +We fear the advertiser has put his foot in it. + + * * * * * + +LABOUR AND THE RUSSIAN BALLET. + +I wasn't present at the station when Madame PAVLOVA arrived in London, +bringing with her, as I have been assured by six different newspapers, no +fewer than three hundred and eighty-five pieces of luggage. But I have +seen, thanks to Sir J. M. BARRIE, the transformation which a Russian _prima +ballerina_ makes in an English country home, so I happen to know exactly +what occurred. I think it deserves to be recorded. Very well then. + + SCENE--_A Metropolitan railway terminus, though you wouldn't perhaps + recognise it, because it looks a little like the interior of a Greek + cathedral and a little like the fair at Nijni Novgorod, and the + posters have obviously been painted by_ Mr. WYNDHAM LEWIS _or somebody + like that. One porter is discovered leaning against an automatic sweet + machine designed by an Expressionist sculptor. He is wearing a long + mole-coloured smock, and looking with extreme disfavour at his + luggage-truck, which has somehow got itself painted bright blue and + green, with red wheels. Music by_ J. H. Thomaski. + + [_Enter L., puffing slowly, the boat-train. The engine and carriages + resemble Early-Victorian prints._ Madame PAVLOVA _descends, and in a + very expressive dance conveys to the_ Porter _that she has one or two + trunks in the guard's van which she wants him to convey to a taxicab_. + +_Porter._ 'Ow many is there, lady? + + [PAVLOVA _pirouettes a little more and points three hundred and + eighty-five times at the station-roof with her right toe_. + +_Porter._ Can't be done nohow. + + [PAVLOVA _dances a dance indicative of absolute and heartrending + despair, terminating in an appeal to the heavens to come to her aid. + Enter R. an important-looking personage with a long white beard, + wearing a costume which might be, called a commissionaire's if it + wasn't so like a harlequin's._ + +_Porter_ (_impressively and with evident relief_). The Stazione Maestro! + +_The Stazione Maestro._ What's all this? + + [PAVLOVA _dances an explanation of the_ impasse. _The_ S.-M. _and the_ + Porter _remove their caps and scratch their heads solemnly, to slow + music_. + +_The S.-M._ (_after deep cogitation_). This must be referred to the N.U.R. + + [_Enter suddenly, R. and L., dancing, the Central Executive Committee + of the N.U.R. There is thunder and lightning._ PAVLOVA _repeats her + appeal. The_ C.E.C. _confabulate. The_ Chairman _finally announces + that the thing is entirely contrary to the principles of their Union, + and if the_ Station-master _permits it he must take the consequences. + The_ C.E.C. _disappear_. + +_The S.-M._ What about it, Bill? + +_Porter._ We'll do it. (_He dances._) Here goes, Mum. + + [_Enter, suddenly, chorus of porters with multi-coloured trucks. + (They are the same as the_ C.E.C. _really, but they have changed + their clothes.) Aided by the_ S.-M. _and_ Bill _they remove the + three hundred and eighty-five packages, and wheel them, walking on + their toes, to the station exit, R. Here is seen a taxicab whose + driver is wrapped in profound meditation and smoking a hookah, the + bowl of which rests on the pavement. It is represented to him that a + lady with some luggage desires to charter his conveyance and proceed + to Hampstead. He comes forward to the centre and explains:_ + + _1. That it is near the dinner-hour._ + + _2. That he has no petrol._ + + _3. That he wouldn't do it for_ LLOYD GEORGE _hisself_. + + _He retires to his vehicle and resumes his hookah._ PAVLOVA _dances + some dances expressive of Spring, of Butterflies, of Flowers, of + Unlimited Gold. In the midst of the final passage the driver leaps + from his seat, rushes on to the platform, jumps three hundred and + eighty-five times into the air, whirls_ PAVLOVA _off her toes and + dashes from side to side, carrying her in one hand. He finally flings + her into the taxicab and returns to his seat. The luggage is piled + upon the roof by dancing porters and tied with many-coloured ribbons. + The taxi departs in a cloud of petrol, the driver steering with his + toes and manipulating the clutches with his hands. Farewells are waved + and finally, surrounded by the rest of the porters, the_ Station + Master _and_ Bill _dance a dance of Glad Sacrifice, stab themselves + with their hands, and die_. + +CURTAIN OF SMOKE. + +Mind you, as I said at the beginning, I wasn't there myself, but I helped +to steer three boxes to the seaside during the Easter holiday without the +blandishments of Art. So I know something. + +EVOE. + + * * * * * + +LABUNTUR ANNI. + +TO A CHITAL HEAD ON THE WALL OF A LONDON CLUB. + + Light in the East, the dawn wind singing, + Solemn and grey and chill, + Rose in the sky, with Orion swinging + Down to the distant hill; + The grass dew-pearled and the _mohwa_ shaking + Her scented petals across the track, + And the herd astir to the new day breaking-- + Gods! how it all comes back. + + So it was, and on such a morning + Somebody's bullet sped, + And you, as you called to the herd a warning, + Dropped in the grasses dead; + And some stout hunter's heart was brimming + For joy that the gods of sport were good-- + With a lump in his throat and his eyes a-dimming, + As the eyes of sportsmen should;-- + + As mine have done in the springtime running, + As mine in the halcyon days + Ere trigger-finger had lapsed from cunning + Or foot from the forest ways, + When I'd wake with the stars and the sunrise meeting + In the dewy fragrance of myrrh and musk, + Peacock and spurfowl sounding a greeting + And the jungle mine till dusk. + + You take me back to the valleys of laughter, + The hills that hunters love, + The sudden rain and the sunshine after, + The cloud and the blue above, + The morning mist and creatures crying, + The beat in the drowsy afternoon, + Clear-washed eve with the sunset dying, + Night and the hunter's moon. + + Not till all trees and jungles perish + Shall we go back that way + To those dear hills that the hunters cherish, + Where the hearts of the hunters stay; + So you dream on of the ancient glories, + Of water-meadows and hinds and stags, + While I and my like tell old, old stories ... + Ah! but it drags--it drags. + + H. B. + + * * * * * + + "MATRIMONY. + + Accountant would write up Books, also Tax Returns; moderate charges." + + _Liverpool Paper._ + +This is much more delicate than the usual crude stipulation that the lady +must have means. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MANNERS AND MODES. + +A NEO-GEORGIAN TRIES TO MAKE THEM UNDERSTAND.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Art Patron_ (_who has heard something about a Modern +Movement_). "NOW YOU'RE NOT GOING TO TELL ME THAT'S A VALUABLE BIT OF WORK? +WHY, HANG IT ALL, I CAN RECOGNISE THE PLACE."] + + * * * * * + +PEACE WITH HONOUR. + +This is the story of Mr. Holmes, the Curate, and of how he brought peace to +our troubled house. The principal characters are John, my brother-in-law, +and Margery, my unmarried sister, and, at the bottom of the programme, in +large letters, Mr. Holmes, the Curate. I have a small walking-on part. The +story will now commence. + +John and Margery went out for a walk in the beautiful Spring sunshine as +friendly as friendly. They came back three hours later--well, Cecilia (his +wife) and I heard them at least two villages away. + +They both rushed into the room covered with mud and shouting at the tops of +their voices. + +"Cecilia," roared John, "order this girl out of my house. She shan't stay +under my roof another hour." + +"Cecilia," shrieked Margery, "he's an obstinate ignorant wretch, and thank +Heaven he isn't _my_ husband." + +I put a cushion over my head. + +Cecilia kept hers. + +"If you will both go out of the room," she said, "take off your filthy +boots and come back in your right minds and decent clothing I'll try to +understand what you are both talking about." + +They crawled out of the room abjectly and I came out into the open once +more. + +"Good Lord! What a family to be in!" I said. + + * * * * * + +"Cecilia," said John at tea, "harking back to the question of Hairy +Bittercress----" + +"Hazel Catkin," said Margery. + +"What on earth----?" began Cecilia. + +"I'll tell her," said Margery quickly. "Cecilia, we had a competition this +afternoon, seeing who could find most signs of Spring. Well, I found a bit +of Hazel Catkin----" + +"Hairy Bittercress," said John. + +"I tell you----" went on Margery. + +"If you will calm yourself," interrupted John with dignity, "we will +discuss the point." + +"There's nothing to discuss. What do you know about botany, I'd like to +know?" + +"My dear child," said John, "when you were an infant-in-arms, nay, before +you existed at all, it was my custom to ramble o'er the dewy meads, +plucking the nimble Nipplewort and the shy Speedwell. I breakfasted on +botany." + +"Talking of botany," I broke in "there was a chap in my platoon----" + +John groaned loudly. + +"Do you suggest," I asked, "that he was not in my platoon?" + +"I suggest nothing," he answered; "I only know that they can't all have +been in your platoon." + +"All who, John?" asked Cecilia. + +"All the chaps he tells us about. Haven't you noticed, since he came home, +it's impossible to mention any type or freak or extraordinary individual +that wasn't like somebody in his platoon? It must have been about five +thousand per cent. over strength." + +"I treat your insults with contempt," I said, "and proceed with my story. +This chap had the same affliction that has taken Margery and yourself. He +spent his life searching for specimens of the Bingle-weed and the +five-leaved Funglebid. At bayonet-drill he would stop in the middle of a +'long-point, short-point, jab' to pluck a sudden Oojah-berry that caught +his eye. In the end his passion got him to Blighty." + +"How?" asked Margery. + +"Well," I continued, "it was the morning of the great German attack. My +friend--er--I will call him X--and myself were retiring on the village +of--er--Y, followed by about six million Germans. Shots were falling all +round us, when suddenly X saw a small wild flower at his feet. He bent down +to pick it up and--er----" + +"That is quite enough, Alan," said Cecilia. + +"That is all, Cecilia," I said; "that is how he got to Blighty." + +"We will now proceed with the subject in hand," said John after a moment's +silence. He produced a small crushed piece of green-stuff from his pocket. + +"The question before the house is, as we used to say in the Great War, +'_Qu'est-ce-que c'est que ceci?_' Any suggestions that it is of the Lemon +species will be returned unanswered. For my part I say it is Hairy +Bittercress." + +"And I say it's Hazel Catkin," said Margery. + +"And what says Hubert the herbalist?" asked John, handing the weed to me. + +I examined it carefully through the ring of my napkin. + +"Well," I said, "speaking largely, I should say it is either Mustard or +Cress, or both as the case may be." + +I was howled down and retired. + + * * * * * + +We heard lots of the weed during the next few days. Each morning at +breakfast it sprouted forth as it were. + +"And how is the Great Unknown?" I would ask. + +"The Hairy Bittercress is thriving, we thank you," John would answer. + +"Hazel Catkin," Margery would throw out. + +"Catkin yourself," from John, and so on _ad lib_. + +They kept it carefully in a small pot in the window, and if one looked at +it the other watched jealously for foul play. + +"On Saturday," said John, "the Curate is coming to tea. He is a man of +wisdom and a botanist to boot--or do I mean withal? On Saturday the Hairy +Bittercress shall be publicly proclaimed by its rightful name." + +"Which is Hazel Catkin," said Margery. + +Saturday came and Saturday afternoon, and, about three o'clock, the Curate. +I saw him coming and met him at the door. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes," I said. "You come to a house of bitterness +and strife. Walk right in." + +"Indeed I trust not," he said. + +"Come with me," I replied; "I will tell you all about it." And I led him on +tip-toe to a quiet spot. + +"Mr. Holmes," I said, "you know the family well. We have always been a +happy loving crowd, have we not?" + +"Indeed you have," he said politely. + +"Well," I continued, "a weed has split us asunder. My brother-in-law and my +younger sister are on the point of committing mutual murder." + +I explained the whole situation and drew a harrowing picture of its effect +on our family life. "Unless you help us," I said, "this Hazel Catkin or +Hairy Bittercress will ruin at least four promising young lives." + +"But I hardly see how I am to----" began Mr. Holmes. + +I told him what to do. + +"But surely," he said, "they will know better than that." + +"No, they won't," I said. "Neither of them knows anything about it, really. +Come, Mr. Holmes, it is for a good cause." + +"Very well," he said. "Perhaps the end justifies the means. We will see +what we can do." + +"Good man," I said. "Children unborn will bless your name for this day's +work." + +I took him to the dining-room, where Margery and John were sitting. + +"Here is Mr. Holmes," I said. + +They both made a dash at him. + +"Mr. Holmes," said John, "we seek your aid. You have a wide and deep +knowledge of geography--that is botany, and you shall settle a problem that +is ruining my home." + +"Certainly I will do my best," said Mr. Holmes. And then without a blush: +"What is the problem, may I ask?" + +"We have found a piece of----" began John. + +"Don't tell him," shrieked Margery. "Let him see for himself." + +They fetched the weed and handed it reverently to the Curate. + +Mr. Holmes looked at it carefully. He breathed on it and moistened it with +his finger. At last he looked up. + +"This is a very rare specimen indeed," he said; "I never remember to have +seen one quite like it. It is in fact a hybrid." He stopped and beamed at +us. + +"What's it _called_?" shrieked Margery and John together. + +Mr. Holmes chose his words carefully. + +"It is called," he said, "Hairy Catkin." + +There was a pause while Margery and John gazed at each other. + +"'Hairy Catkin,'" said John solemnly. + +"Then--then we're both right!" said Margery. + +They looked at each other again and then did the only thing possible in the +circumstances. Each fell on the other's neck. + +Mr. Holmes and I shook hands silently. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "GET UP, DEAR, AND GIVE YOUR SEAT TO THIS LADY. REMEMBER YOU +LOSE NOTHING BY BEING POLITE." + +"OH, DON'T I? I LOSE MY SEAT."] + + * * * * * + +The Wool Shortage. + + "Blankets, guaranteed all wood." + + _Provincial Paper._ + + "Antique Carved Ebony Carpet." + + _Another Provincial Paper._ + + * * * * * + + "Within there is the delicious scent of burning logs, and all the + fragrance of only a 1-1/2_d._ stamp."--_Daily Paper._ + +We have tasted the backs of these stamps--a delicious bouquet. + + * * * * * + + "Berwick Guardians on Euesday favour-tarining in Ireland, was more + able to deal receive their vates. The candidate, Mr. D. +opinion. The + ballot for position of places+ accompanied feastings and + jollification, and sentation what elections were like in the the + business of auctioneer." + + _North-Country Paper._ + +Portions of the paragraph are not too clear, but we should say there was no +doubt about the jollification. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: STAGE AMENITIES. + +"HELLO, CISSIE! SO YOU'RE ASSISTING AT DAISY DARLINT'S BENEFIT TOO?" + +"YES--THE CAT!"] + + * * * * * + +CHIPPO'S SCENARIO. + +(_With the British Army in France._) + +It was the Societe Grand Guignol de Cinema's busy day. On the beach at +Petiteville cameras were rattling away like machine guns, orders from the +producer were hissing through the air with the vicious hum of explosive +bullets, and weary supers were marching and counter-marching in a state of +hopeless apathy. + +At the very height of these operations Chippo Munks wandered into the +camera barrage and got firmly entangled in the picture. As "crowd in +background" was indicated by the scenario, the producer refrained from +killing Chippo out of hand--in fact he invited his co-operation for another +crowd a little later on. Thus it was that Chippo earned the right to +describe himself as a "fillum actor," with licence to speak familiarly of +his colleagues, CHARLES CHAPLIN and MARY PICKFORD, and full powers to pose +as the ultimate authority of the camp whenever cinemas were mentioned. + +At the Cafe des Promeneurs it was generally assumed that Chippo was merely +waiting for a fat contract from the Societe Grand Guignol, and pending its +arrival he explained that he was constructing a suitable scenario. + +"The public," he said, "is fed up with Texas rancheros in Anzac 'ats and +antimacassar trousers playing poker dice with one 'and and keeping a +sustained burst of rapid fire against their opponents with the other. They +wants something true to life. Now, my fillum opens at the Cafe de l'Avenir, +where a stout old British soldier runs a Crown an' Anchor board at personal +loss, but 'appy in the knowledge that 'e is amusing his comrades." + +"The same answering to the name of Chippo Munks?" interjected Chris Jones. + +"The name on the programme is _Reginald Denvers_," said Chippo firmly. +"Acrost the way, at the Cafe de la Vache Noire, a drunken unprincipled +gambler named _Jim Blaney_--which you will also reckernise is an +alias--regularly pockets the pay of 'is fellow-soldiers under pretence of a +square deal at banker an' pontoon. One night, 'aving sucked 'is victims dry +for the time being and also largely taken 'is cawfee _avec_, _Blaney_ goes +acrost to the Avenir an' sets 'is stall out there. _Reginald_ remonstrates. + +"'I'm the Great White Chief in this 'ostelry,' says he, 'an' we don't want +no three-card-trick sharks butting in.' + +"'My modest shrinking vi'let,' says _Blaney_, 'I'll play where I blinking +well please.' + +"_Reginald_ thereupon remarks that sooner than allow 'is innocent patrons +to be swindled by a six-fingered thimblerigging son of a confidence +trickster 'e'd start in an' expose 'im. + +"At this point _Blaney_ swears to be revenged, an' there is a hinterval of +a minute while the next part of the fillum is bein' prepared. + +"The following scene shows _Blaney_ all poshed up and busy trying to worm +'is way into the confidence of _Suzanne_ (the daughter of the _patron_ of +the Cafe de l'Avenir), who cherishes a secret passion for _Reginald_. 'E +kids 'er to drop the contents of a white packet into _Reginald's vang +blanc_, telling her it's a love lotion--I should say potion--that will gain +'er _Reginald's_ everlasting affections. _Reggie_, being thirsty, scoffs +off the whole issue an' finds to his dismay that 'is voice 'as been +completely destroyed. That's a thrilling situation, Chris, a _professeur +de_ Crown an' Anchor not being able to do his patter." + +[Illustration: A LEVY ON PATRIOTISM.] + +"'E might as well shut up shop right away," agreed Chris. + +"Jest so. _Reginald_ rushes after _Blaney_ and tells him off good an' +proper----" + +"'Ow could 'e when 'e'd lorst his voice?" asked Chris. + +"Oh! burn it. This is a fillum drama. 'E sees 'is extensive _clientele_ +drifting away to the Vache Noire an' _Blaney_ getting so rich 'e can afford +Beaune an' eggs an' chips for 'is supper every night. In the interests of +the misguided victims _Reginald_ tells the Military Police that drinking +goes on during prohibited hours at the Vache Noire, an' gets the place put +out of bounds. All the speckerlaters thereupon return to the Avenir, an' +Part II. finishes with _Reginald_ recovering 'is voice an' carolling +'Little Billy Fair-play, all the way from 'Olloway' while he rakes in the +shekels with both hands and feet." + +"I'm getting the 'ang of this a bit," said Chris; "I recollect there was a +chap named Slaney as once did you down on a deal, an' I remember a +red-'aired girl at the Avenir. But all this talk about love lotions and +voice dope gets me guessing." + +"A fillum drama that's true to life ain't bound to be absolutely true as to +facts. The trimmings is extra. We opens next with a little slow music an' +_Jim Blaney_ meeting _Reginald_ an' telling 'im 'e 's reformed an' given up +gambling. Instead 'e's running a very respectable football sweep, the prize +to be given to the one as draws the team that scores most goals, an' 'e +offers _Reginald_ a commission an' a seat on the drawing committee if he'll +recommend it amongst 'is clients. Such is 'is plausibleness that 'e even +sells _Suzanne_ a ticket, though she's not rightly sure if Aston Villa is a +race-horse or a lottery number. _Reginald_, however, suspects treachery. + +"'Take your breath reg'ler,' 'e says, or makes movements to that effect. +'The matches for this sweep is played on Saturday, an' I seems to recollect +that you an' a lot of the crowd is due for demob on Wednesday, an' I'm +going for leave on Tuesday. What guarantee 'ave we that you weigh out +before you go?' + +"'I pays out _immediatemong_ on receipt of the Sunday papers, which will be +Sunday night," says _Blaney_. 'That's good enough, ain't it?' + +"_Reginald_ therefore invests an' participates in the drawing, though still +a bit doubtful. 'Is fears is justified, for on Friday night, 'aving got all +the money, _Blaney_ steps outside the _estaminay_ an' hits a Military +Police over the ear." + +"Whatever for?" asked Chris. "The War's over." + +"That's a mystery; but the mystery is solved when they 'ear that _Blaney_ +'as gone to clink to do ten days F.P. No. 2. + +"''E's just gauged it to a nicety,' says someone; ''e won't come out till +we're demobbed, an' 'e'll be orf before _Reginald_ gets back from leave.' + +"It's 'ere the finest scene in the fillum ought to 'appen. Imagine a crowd +of defrauded an' infuriated soldiery, led by _Reginald_, marching up to the +F.P. compound and demanding that the miserable _Blaney_ an' their stakes +should be 'anded over to them. + +"'Never!' says the Provost-Sergeant, twirling his moustaches to needle +points. + +"'As a sportsman I appeal to you,' says _Reginald_, 'or we'll wreck the +blinkin' compound.' + +[Illustration: _Mabel_ (_to dentist_). "BE CAREFUL, WON'T YOU? I'M DREFFLY +TICKLISH."] + +"'I'll not give him up while I have breath in my body,' says the +Provost-Sergeant. 'I've drawn Chelsea in the sweep.' + +"Then should ensue the gloriousest shemozzle that ever was; but this scene +is spoiled by some miserable perisher who says it ain't worth while making +a rough house till they know who's won. What really happens is that they +wait till the Sunday papers arrive, when it is found _Suzanne_ 'as won the +sweep, 'er 'aving drawn Sunderland, what was top-scorer with seven goals. + +"It is then that _Reginald's_ noble nature shows itself. Instead of telling +'er that she's won an' then disappointing 'er by saying the prize money is +in custody, 'e buys 'er ticket for 'alf-price. Then 'e goes to the compound +an' bribes the sentry to let 'im talk to _Blaney_ through the barbed wire. + +"'There's the winning ticket, _Blaney_,' 'e says; 'now pay out.' + +"'Pay out?' says _Blaney_, grinning hideously. 'Why, what do you think I +got into clink for?' + +"And the end comes with _Reginald_ stalking 'elplessly outside the wire, +an' _Blaney_ laughing an' taunting 'im from inside." + +"I don't think much of it," said Chris critically. "I know that Slaney--'im +what you call _Blaney_--did actually do you down real proper, but as a +fillum it ain't a good ending." + +"P'r'aps it ain't--as it stands," admitted Chippo, "but when I'm +demobilized--when _Reginald_ is demobilized, I should say, an' 'e 'appens +to meet that _Jim Blaney_ there'll be the finest fillum finish that's ever +been released, if the police don't interfere." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Informative Visitor_ (_member of party viewing sights of +London_). "'ERE Y'ARE, BOYS. ON OUR LEFT IS THE STATOO OF THE FAMOUS +SINGER, ALBERT 'ALL, AND ON THE RIGHT WE 'AVE THE KENSINGTON GAS WORKS."] + + * * * * * + +THIS FOR REMEMBRANCE. + + [The Government is reported to have three million empty rum jars for + sale.] + + I've long mused on buying a rifle, + A chunk of an aeroplane's gear + Or other belligerent trifle + By way of a small souvenir; + I've thought 'twould be fine (and your pardon + I beg if this savours of swank) + If the grotto that graces my garden + Were topped by a tank. + + But only this morn I decided + Exactly the thing I preferred + To call back the prodigies I did + When the call for fatigue men was heard; + Though my life is again a civilian's, + Martial glories shall come back to view + If I buy from these derelict millions + A rum jar or two. + + Though the spirit's long since been a "goner," + Though the uttermost heel-tap be drained, + I will give them a place of high honour, + Well knowing that once they contained + My solace when seasons were rotten, + When the cold put my courage to flight, + Or the sergeant, perchance, had forgotten + To kiss me good-night. + + In a world that is apt to be trying, + When things are inclined to go ill + And I'm sitting despondently sighing, + Perhaps they will comfort me still; + At the sight of these humble mementoes + It may be once more I shall know + From the crown of my head to my ten toes + That radiant glow. + + * * * * * + +Journalistic Candour. + + "CHANCES MISSED. + + By _The Daily Mail_ correspondent recently in France."--_Daily Mail._ + + * * * * * + + "'The Trojan Person in Pink' will fill the bill at the + Haymarket."--_Evening Paper._ + +Is this intended for a description of the lady to whom Paris gave the +golden apple? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE WORM TURNS. + +A JUGGLER'S COMIC ASSISTANT REFUSES TO MUFF HIS TRICKS.] + + * * * * * + +PRESENCE OF MIND. + + Proud is not the word for me + When I hear my 8-h.p. + Latest model motor-bike, + Having dodged the latest strike, + Is awaiting me complete + At the garage down the street. + + Joyfully I take my way + (And a cheque-book too to pay + The two hundred odd they thought it + Right to charge the man who bought it). + Still, it is a lovely creature, + Up-to-date in every feature, + _And_ a side-car, painted carmine-- + Joy! to think they really _are_ mine! + + Time is short; I don't lose much in + Starting, and I let the clutch in; + Lest I should accelerate + Passing through the garage-gate, + Feeling certain as to what'll + Happen, I shut off the throttle, + When--my heart begins to beat-- + I'm propelled across the street + In a way I never reckoned, + Gathering speed at every second. + + Frantic, I apply the brake, + Realising my mistake + With my last remaining wit: + _I've not shut, but opened it!_ + In another instant I + Hit the curb and start to fly. + Aeronautic friends of mine + Say that flying is divine; + Now I've tried it I confess + Few things interest me less, + Still, I own that in a sense + It is an experience. + + These and other thoughts are there + As I whistle through the air, + And continue till I stop + In an ironmonger's shop + (Kept by Mr. Horne, a kind + Soul, but deaf and very blind). + Still--I mention this with pride, + For it shows how well I ride-- + I have left the bike outside. + + * * * * * + + Little Mrs. Horne is sitting + In the neat back-parlour, knitting. + Mr. Horne, who hears the din + Which I make in coming in, + Leaves the shop and says to her: + "Martha, here's a customer. + From the sound of clinking metal + I should judge he wants a kettle." + + Mrs. H. shows some surprise + At the sight that greets her eyes, + And, in answer to her shout, + Mr. H. comes running out. + + * * * * * + + Now, it's something of a strain + On the busy human brain + Passing through a window-pane + To decide what it will do + When at last it's safely through. + As I gaze around I find-- + Horror! why, I must be blind! + Blind or dead, I don't know which-- + All about is black as pitch; + Thick the atmosphere as well + With a dank metallic smell.... + + Guessing that I am not dead + I attempt to loose my head + From a kettle's cold embrace; + And, meanwhile, to save my face + (Finding I can't get it out), + Say politely--up the spout-- + "Lovely morning, is it not, Horne? + Think I'll take this little lot, Horne; + It is such a perfect fit, + And I'm so attached to it + That I find I cannot bring + My own head to leave the thing. + So you will oblige me greatly + If you'll pack them separately." + + * * * * * + +The Housing Stringency. + + "House for Sale 12 ft. by 1 ft., suitable for + bed-sitting-room."--_Provincial Paper._ + + * * * * * + +Commercial Candour. + + "We claim that we can do you anything in our line as well, or perhaps + a little bit less than you will get it at many other places." + + _Advt. in Local Paper._ + + * * * * * + + "ALLEGED WALLET-SNATCHER TAKES TWO OMNIBUSES." + + _Evening News._ + +No wonder there is a shortage in London travelling facilities. + + * * * * * + +THE WORD-BUILDERS; + +A SHORTAGE OF STRAW. + +Aitchkin has been doing great things in forage, but prosperity has not +spoilt him. Although he must be aware that I remember him in pre-war days, +when he used to strap-hang to the City with his lunch in a satchel, +nevertheless he often invites me round on those rare occasions when he +dines quietly at home. + +The other evening, as he toyed with a modest eight-course dinner, I +perceived that his cheerfulness was a trifle forced, and I thought that +probably he was worrying over the behaviour of his little son, who, tiring +that afternoon of his motor scooter, had done incalculable damage to the +orchid-house with a home-made catapult. + +When we were left alone with our cigars he unburdened his soul. It appears +that, ever since the Armistice, ambition has spurred Aitchkin to be +something more than the "& Co." of a firm which has become torpid with war +profits. He had decided to start in business "on his lonesome," and to make +"Aitchkin" and "forage" synonymous terms. Already he had taken over the +premises of a sovereign purse-maker at a "reasonable figure." (When +Aitchkin is "reasonable" somebody loses money.) But his bargain did not +include a Telegraphic Address, and that morning, working from his +letter-heading, "Alfred Aitchkin," he had brought himself to compose an +appropriate word. To the "Alf" of the Christian name he added "Alpha" +representing the initial of the surname (I suspected the assistance of his +lady-typist), making the complete word "Alf-Alpha" or, written +phonetically, "Alfalfa"--Spanish for lucerne. It was a word which could not +fail to fix itself indelibly in the minds of his clients, for it recalled +not only Aitchkin's name, but the commodity he dealt in. Full of the pride +of authorship he had driven round to the G.P.O. in his touring car. + +"But they crabbed it at once," he said sadly. "Telegraphic addresses +nowadays have to conform to a lot of rotten new rules." + +He handed me a slip of paper on which, over the dead body of "Alfalfa," he +had jotted down the following notes:-- + +(1) Not less than eight, not more than ten letters. + +(2) Must not be composed of words or parts of words. + +(3) Words or parts of words may be accepted if they appear in the middle. + +(4) Must not look like a word. + +(5) Must be pronounceable. + +(6) Russian names, on account of their unusual spelling might be accepted. + +"And what's more," Aitchkin continued, "even when you've got a word which +the Department will accept, it has to be submitted to a Committee who take +'ten to fourteen days' to make up their minds." + +A faint tinkling of the piano came to our ears. Mrs. Aitchkin was waiting +to sing to us. I produced pencil and paper and threw myself heart and soul +into Aitchkin's problem. + +"Rules 2 and 3 are a little contradictory," I said, "and it will require no +slight ingenuity to form a combination of letters which shall be +pronounceable (Rule 5) and yet avoid the damnable appearance of a word +(Rule 4). The concession about Russian names reminds me of something I have +read about shaking hands with murder. In any case it is a barren +concession, because, as we have seen, telegraphic addresses must be +pronounceable. There is something sinister here," I continued. "This is the +work of no ordinary mind. Some legal brain is behind all this." + +Love of the bizarre and the latitude of the Russian Rule led me to make my +first attempt with the name of that all-round Bolshevik sportsman, +BLODNJINKOFF, and I was endeavouring to abridge it to not less than eight +and not more than ten letters without spoiling the natural beauty of the +name when Aitchkin stopped me rather brusquely. And my next effort, +"PLUCROES," he quashed, because he said that the implacable suspicion of +the G.P.O. would be at once aroused by the diphthong. I fancy, though, from +the narrowing of his eyes that he had some misgivings as to the derivation +of the word. + +I then set to work with alternate consonants and vowels (which must give a +pronounceable word), dealing with difficulties under the other rules as +they might arise. Meanwhile Aitchkin, after the manner of an obstructionist +official of the worst type, sat over me with the rules, condemning my +results. Even "Telegrams: HAHAHAHAHA London," merely caused him to sniff +contemptuously. + +"You'll like this one," I exclaimed--"ARLEYOTA. This is a combination of +the word 'barley' (the 'b' being treated as obsolete like the 'n' in +'norange') and the word 'oat' with the 'a' and 't' transposed." + +Aitchkin was interested. Breathing heavily, he tested the word with each +rule in turn, while I sat relaxed in my chair. I pictured ARLEYOTA passed +by the Department and brought into a hushed chamber before a solemn +conclave of experts. How they would probe and analyse it during those +momentous ten to fourteen days. And what a sensation there would be when +they discovered that ARLEYOTA begins and ends with the indefinite article. + +Aitchkin thrust the papers into his pocket and rose abruptly, jamming the +stopper more tightly into a decanter with his podgy hand. + +"Not too bad, ARLEYOTA," he said loftily; "I'll get them to polish it up at +the office to-morrow." (So I _was_ right about the lady-typist). + +He opened the door and we passed out. + +"But it ends in TA," he shouted against the _Roses of Picardy_ which now +came with unbroken force from the drawing-room. "'TA' is a word, you know." + +"_You_ may use it as such," I bawled, "but they've never heard of it among +the staff of the G.P.O." + + * * * * * + +THE WANDERER IN NORFOLK. + +_A Fantasia on East Anglian Place-Names._ + + Tired by the City's ceaseless roaring + I fly to Great or Little Snoring; + When crowds grow riotous and lawless + I seek repose at Stratton Strawless; + When feeling thoroughly week-endish + I hie in haste to Barton Bendish, + Or vegetate at Little Hautbois + (Still uninvaded by the "dough-boy"). + The simple rustic fare of Brockdish + Excels the choicest made or mock dish; + Nor is there any _patois_ so + Superb as that of Spooner Row. + PETT-RIDGE'S lively _Arthur Lidlington_ + Might possibly be bored at Didlington; + And I admit that it would stump SHAW + To stir up a revolt at Strumpshaw. + The spirits of unrest are wholly + Out of their element at Sloley; + But even the weariest straphanger + Regains his courage at Shelfanger. + No taint of Bolshevistic snarling + Poisons the atmosphere of Larling, + And infants in the throes of teething + Become seraphical at Seething. + + Nor must my homely Muse be mute on + The charms of Guist and Sall and Booton, + Shimpling and Tattersett and Stody + (Which, be it noted, rhymes with ruddy), + And fair Winfarthing, where KING TINO + Would seek in vain for a casino + Or even a flask of maraschino. + For here, far from the social scurry + That devastates suburban Surrey, + You find the authentic countryside; + Here, taking Solitude for bride, + The wanderer almost forgets + The jazzing crowd, the miners' threats. + + * * * * * + + "UNAPPROACHABLE + + FAMILY ALES & STOUT." + + _Advt. in Provincial Paper._ + +This should please Mr. "PUSSYFOOT." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE NEW SPIRIT IN WEDDING GIFTS.] + + * * * * * + +ON THE WESTERN FRONT. + +Once again we are "for it." It is that heavy hour between five and six when +the vitality is all too low for the ordeal that awaits us. On either side +the far-flung battle line of clustering figures stretches away into the +gloom. It is an inspiring sight, this tense silent crowd of men of every +class and vocation, united by a common purpose, grimly awaiting the moment +when as one man they will hurl themselves into the fray. + +Is it the mere lust for fighting that has brought them here? Or is it the +thought of the home that each hopes to return to that steels their courage +and lends that _elan_ to their resolution without which one enters the +struggle in vain? + +In the dim half-light I furtively scan the set faces around me and find +myself wondering what thoughts those impassive masks conceal. Are they +counting the cost? Most of them have been through the ordeal before. Pale +faces there are--small wonder when one thinks of what lies before them. +Here and there a man is puffing at his beloved "gasper" with the +nonchalance that marks your bull-dog breed when stern work is afoot. + +Yet one cannot keep one's thoughts from the tremendous possibilities of the +next few minutes. Where shall we be a few minutes hence? Some, one knows, +will have gone West--and the others? Would they effect a lodgement, or be +hurled back baffled and raging and impotent, as, alas! had too often been +the case before? + +And what of those who were even now maybe preparing against our onslaught? +Their intelligence could hardly have failed to warn them of our intentions. +The position would be occupied, never fear, and in force, with seasoned men +from the East. + +At last a stunning roar that seems to shake the very ground, rising to a +shriek. Now it is each man for himself. The long line surges forward, +looking eagerly for a breach. Now we can see our opponents--hate in their +eyes--as they brace themselves for the shock. Now we are into them, +fighting silently, with a sort of cold fury save where a muttered curse or +the sharp cry of the injured bears testimony to the fierceness of the +struggle. + +But see, they turn and waver. One more rush and we are through, driving +them before us. The position is won. + +Breathing hard we look around at the havoc we have wrought, and suddenly +the glamour of victory seems to fade and one loathes the whole senseless, +savage business. We do not really hate these men. After all, they are our +fellow-creatures. + +But what would you? One cannot spend the night on Charing Cross District +platform. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: SHAKSPEARE AND THE NEW ART. + +"WHAT'S HERE? THE PORTRAIT OF A BLINKING IDIOT?" + +_Merchant of Venice, Act II. Sc. 9._] + + * * * * * + +From a drapery firm's advertisement: + + "WE NEVER ALLOW + + DISSATISFIED CUSTOMER TO LEAVE THE PREMISES IF WE CAN AVOID IT. + + IT DOESN'T PAY!" + + _Scotch Paper._ + +Suspiciously like a case of "Your money or your life!" + + * * * * * + +BY THE STREAM. + +(_Featuring the Premier._) + +Mr. LLOYD GEORGE has returned from a visit to the haunts of his youth with +renewed health and reinforced Welsh accent. The last day of his holiday was +spent in fishing in the company of two friends; but unfortunately the +newspapers failed to supply any details of the scene, a lack of enterprise +which it is difficult to understand, especially on the part of the journals +known to employ Rubicon experts on their staff. Happily we are able to give +information which we have reason to believe will not be officially +contradicted. + +From his childhood Mr. LLOYD GEORGE has known intimately the romantic +stream, named, for some unexplained reason, the Dwyfor river. To its +musical murmur may be traced the mellifluous cadences of the statesman's +voice employed so effectually in his appeals to Labour and the Paris +Conference. Who can say what influences this little Welsh river, with its +bubbling merriment, the flashing forceful leap of its cascades, its adroit +avoidance of obstacles, may have had upon the career of the statesman of +to-day, as through the years it has wound its way from the springs to the +ocean? The senior fish of the Dwyfor are well known to him, and they gather +fearlessly in large numbers to smile at his bait and to point it out to +their friends. + +Towards the end of the day a humorous incident occurred. A keeper appeared +on the opposite bank of the river and excitedly warned the party that they +were trespassing, requesting them to retire. To his amazement his demands +were ignored, and the trespassers replied to his protests by singing "The +Land Song," the PREMIER'S rich tenor voice being easily distinguished above +the roar of a neighbouring cascade. + + * * * * * + + "Lieut ---- proposed that Mr. ----, our present vice-chairman, be + elected to the chair until the usual election of officials took place, + by that time a capable member would probably be found willing to + accept the position. + + Mr. ---- thanked the proposer and seconders for their + compliment."--_Service Paper._ + +The new chairman seems to be easily pleased. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Sunday School Teacher._ "DEAR ME, MAGGIE, YOU'RE NOT GOING +AWAY BEFORE THE SERVICE IS BEGUN?" + +_Little Girl._ "IT'S OUR FREDDIE, MISS. 'E'S SWALLOWED THE COLLECTION."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +Inevitably you will find a sad significance in the title of _Harvest_ +(COLLINS), the last story, I suppose, that we shall have from the pen of +Mrs. HUMPHREY WARD. It is a quite simple tale, very simply told, and of +worth less for its inherent drama than for the admirable picture it gives +of rural England in the last greatest days of the Great War. How quick was +the writer's sympathy with every phase of the national ordeal is proved +again by a score of vivid passages in which the fortunes of her characters +are dated by the tremendous events that form their background. The story +itself is of two women in partnership on a Midland farm, one of whom, the +senior, has in her past certain secret episodes which, as is the way of +such things, return to find her out and bring her happiness to ruin. The +character of this _Janet_ is well and vigorously drawn, though there is +perhaps little in her personality as shown here to make understandable the +passion of her past. All the details of life on the land in the autumn of +1918 are given with a skill that brings into the book not only the scent of +the wheat-field but the stress, emotional and economic, of those +unforgettable months. Because it is all so typically English one may call +it a true consummation of the work of one who loved England well. In Mrs. +WARD'S death the world of letters mourns the loss of a writer whose talent +was ever ungrudgingly at the service of her country. She leaves a gap that +it will be hard to fill. + + * * * * * + +In some ways I think that they will be fortunate who do not read _A Remedy +Against Sin_ (HUTCHINSON) till the vicissitudes of book-life have deprived +it of its pictorial wrapper, because, though highly attractive as a +drawing, the very charmingly-clad minx of the illustration is hardly a +figure to increase one's sympathy with her as an injured heroine. And of +course it is precisely this sympathy that Mr. W. B. MAXWELL is playing +for--first, last and all the time. His title and the puff's preliminary +will doubtless have given you the aim of the story, "to influence the +public mind on one of the most vital questions of the day," the injustice +of our divorce laws. For this end Mr. MAXWELL has exercised all his ability +on the picture of a foolish young wife, chained to a lout who is shown +passing swiftly from worse to unbearable, and herself broken at last by the +ordeal of the witness-box in a "defended action." Inevitably such a book, a +record of disillusion and increasing misery, can hardly be cheerful; tales +with a purpose seldom are. But the poignant humanity of it will hold your +sympathy throughout. You may think that Mr. MAXWELL too obviously loads his +dice, and be aware also that (like others of its kind) the story suffers +from over-concentration on a single theme. It moves in a world of +incompatibles. The heroine's kindly friend is tied to a dipsomaniac wife; +her coachman has no remedy for a ruined home because of the expense of +divorce, and so on. To a great extent, however, Mr. MAXWELL'S craft has +enabled him to overcome even these obstacles; his characters, though you +may suspect manipulation, remain true types of their rather tiresome kind, +and the result is a book that, though depressing, refuses to be put down. +But as a wedding-present--no! + + * * * * * + +_The Underworld_ (JENKINS) describes life round about and down below a +small coal-mine in Scotland something near thirty years ago. Its author, +JAMES WELSH, tells us in a simple manly preface that he became a miner at +the age of twelve, and worked at every phase of coal-getting till lately he +was appointed check-weigher by his fellows, and therefore writes of what he +knows at first hand. Here then is a straightforward tale with for hero a +sensitive and enthusiastic young miner who draws his inspiration from BOB +SMILLIE, loses his girl to the coal-owner's son and his life in a +rescue-party. The villain, double-dyed, is not the coal-owner but his +"gaffer," who favours his men as to choice of position at the coal-face in +return for favours received from their wives. The chief surprise to the +reader will be the difference between the status and power of the miner +then and now. The writer has a considerable skill in composing effective +dialogue, especially between his men; gives a convincing picture of the pit +and home life, the anxieties, courage, affections and aspirations of the +friends of whom he is "so proud." Nor does he cover up their weaknesses. +Purple passages of fine writing show his inexperience slipping into +pitfalls by the way, but his work rings true and deserves to be read by +many at the present time when miners are so far from being victims of "the +block"--the employers' device for starving out a "difficult" man--that they +look like fitting the boot to another leg. One is made to realise their +anxiety to get rid of that boot. + + * * * * * + +_How They Did It_ (METHUEN) may be regarded as a novel with a purpose, and, +like most such, suffers from the defects of its good intentions. The object +is "an exposure of war muddling at home," and it must be admitted that Mr. +GERALD O'DONOVAN gives us no half-measure; indeed I was left with the idea +that greater moderation would have made a better case. To illustrate it, he +takes his hero, _David Grant_, through a variety of experiences. +Incapacitated from active fighting through the loss of an arm, he is given +work as a housing officer on the Home Front. His endeavours to check the +alleged extravagance and corruption of this command led to his being +"invalided out"; after which he wanders round seeking civilian war-work +(and marking only dishonesty everywhere), and ends up with a post in the +huge, newly-formed and almost entirely farcical Ministry of Business. This +final epithet puts in one word my criticism of Mr. O'DONOVAN'S method. +Everyone admits the large grain of truth in his charges; the trouble is +that he has too often allowed an honest indignation to carry him past his +mark into the regions of burlesque, and in particular to confuse character +with caricature. But as a topical squib, briskly written, _How They Did It_ +will provide plenty of angry amusement, with enough suggestion of the +_roman a clef_ to keep the curious happy in fitting originals to its many +portraits. I should perhaps add that the plot, such as it is, is held +together by a rather perfunctory and intermittent love-affair, too +obviously employed only to fill up time while the author is thinking out +some fresh exposure. This I regretted, as _Mary_, the heroine, is here a +shadow of what seems attractive and original substance. I wonder that the +author did not invent for her a Ministry of Romance. He is quite capable of +it. + + * * * * * + +Among the writers who have established stable reputations for themselves +during the War "KLAXON" is in the very front rank. This is partly due to an +easy natural style, but most to a sound judgment and an amazingly clear eye +for essentials. To those (not myself) who want to forget the last few years +it may seem that we have already been given enough opportunities to read +about our submarines. Well, I have read nearly everything that has been +written on this subject and could yet draw great delight from _The Story of +Our Submarines_ (BLACKWOOD), a most informing and fascinating book. +"Whatever happens," says "KLAXON," "the German policy of torpedoing +merchant ships without warning must be made not only illegal but unsafe for +a nation adopting it.... If these notes of mine serve no other purpose, +they will, at any rate, do something towards differentiating between the +submarine and the U-boat." By which it will be seen that to his many other +claims on our regard "KLAXON" adds the gift, not always found among +experts, of modesty. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: DISGUST OF AN ARTIST ON FINDING HIS ACADEMY SUCCESS OF 1899 +AT AN AUCTION OF MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES LEFT BEHIND IN RAILWAY CARRIAGES.] + + * * * * * + +THE VISIT. + + When I went to Fairyland, visiting the Queen, + I rode upon a peacock, blue and gold and green; + Silver was the harness, crimson were the reins, + All hung about with little bells that swung on silken chains. + + When I went to Fairyland, indeed you cannot think + What pretty things I had to eat, what pretty things to drink; + And did you know that butterflies could sing like little birds? + And did you guess that fairy-talk is not a bit like words? + + When I went to Fairyland--of all the lovely things!-- + They really taught me how to fly, they gave me fairy wings; + And every night I listen for a tapping on the pane-- + I want so very much to go to Fairyland again. + + R. F. + + * * * * * + + "Wanted, Bedroom and Sitting room (furnished), with use of bathroom, + without attendance."--_Provincial Paper._ + +We share the advertiser's desire for privacy during ablutions. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +158, April 14, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 22957.txt or 22957.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/9/5/22957/ + +Produced by Matt Whittaker, 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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