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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:59:44 -0700 |
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diff --git a/22992-h/22992-h.htm b/22992-h/22992-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e71b3cf --- /dev/null +++ b/22992-h/22992-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2833 @@ +<!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>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 150, May 10, 1916, by Various</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;} + .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;} + hr.pg { width: 100%; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + border: solid black; + height: 5px; } + pre {font-size: 85%; } + --> + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 150, May +10, 1916, by Various, Edited by Owen Seaman</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 150, May 10, 1916</p> +<p>Author: Various</p> +<p>Editor: Owen Seaman</p> +<p>Release Date: October 14, 2007 [eBook #22992]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 150, MAY 10, 1916***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Jonathan Ingram, David King,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 150.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>May 10, 1916.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page305" id="page305"></a>[pg 305]</span> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p>Many graphic tales have been told of +the immense loads of plunder carried +off during the fighting in Dublin; but +there has been looting on a large scale +elsewhere, if one may believe the +headline of a contemporary:—"Man +arrested with Colt in his pocket at +Bloomsbury."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Says a writer in The <i>Daily Chronicle</i>: +"In one neighbourhood within the +Zeppelin zone there are hundreds of +partridges who defy the Defence of the +Realm Act. Two or three hours before +anyone else is aware that the baby-killers +are approaching these bold birds +go chuckle, chuckle, chuckle, as if there +were an army of the more human sort +of poachers about." Personally we +have always felt that the +section of the Defence of the +Realm Act which forbids one +to go chuckle, chuckle, chuckle, +when the Zeppelins are approaching +is superfluous as +well as in inferior taste.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Dr. <span class="sc">Walford Davis</span>, in a +lecture on "Songs for Home +Singing," recently told his +hearers how Major Tom +Bridges saved a couple of +battalions at the Front with +two penny whistles. We feel +bound to point out however +that any attempt to save the +nation with the same exiguous +weapons would be too hazardous +to be encouraged.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Owing to a lack of the +necessary dyes there will soon be no +more red tape available for the War +Office and elsewhere. It is to be +hoped, however, that the familiar and +picturesque salutation with which staff +officers are in the habit of taking +leave of one another, "So long, Old +Tape!" will not be allowed to become +obsolete.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Attention has recently been drawn to +the number of strapping boys who are +idling their time away in cinema houses +in the absence of their fathers at the +Front. Their strapping fathers, of +course.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>According to the President of the +Baptist Union, "you must hit a Londoner +at least six times before he +smarts." We do not presume to dispute +this statement, but what we want +to know is, how was the Londoner +occupied while the President of the +Baptist Union was conducting his +extremely interesting experiment?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Owing to the scarcity of tonnage, +Denmark shipowners have put into +commission two 18th-century sailing +vessels. Meanwhile in the neighbourhood +of Mount Ararat there is, we +learn, some talk of organising an +expedition for the recovery of the +Ark with a view to her utilisation in +the cattle-carrying trade.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Recorder of Pontefract states +that in a recent walk he followed for +three miles three men who were smoking, +and counted sixty-two matches +struck by them. It is reported that the +gentlemen concerned have since called +upon the Recorder to explain that it +was in a spirit of war economy that +they had dispensed with the services +of the torch-bearer who had hitherto +attended their movements.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>There will be no Bakers' Exhibition +this year, it is announced. Many <i>chic</i> +models however, both in <i>gáteaux</i> and +the new open-work <i>confiserie</i>, will be +privately exhibited.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A contributor to <i>The Observer</i> draws +our attention to the phenomenally early +return of the swifts. But after all +there must be something particularly +soothing about England these days to a +neurotic fowl like a swift.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It is rumoured that Mr. <span class="sc">Birrell</span> has +lately thrown off one of his <i>obiter +dicta</i>—to the effect that Mr. Asquith +and his colleagues have expressed an +ambition to go down in the pages of +history as the "Ministry of All the +Buried Talents."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It was a confirmed dyspeptic of our +acquaintance who, on reading that in +Paris they are serving a half-mourning +salad consisting mainly of sliced potatoes, +artichokes and pickled walnuts, +expressed surprise at their failure to +add a few radishes to the dish, so that +they might be thoroughly miserable +while they were about it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>According to a contemporary, Mr. H. B. +<span class="sc">Irving's</span> <i>Cassius</i> "came very near +to Shakespeare." A delightful change +from the innumerable Cassii that are +modelled, for instance, on Mr. W. W. +<span class="sc">Jacobs</span>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Sir <span class="sc">Thomas Lipton's</span> yacht, the <i>Erin</i>, +has been sunk in the Mediterranean, +and no doubt the Germans think they +have done something to go bragh about.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Italians are being invited by means +of circulars dropped from balloons to +desert to the Austrians, the sum of +5s. 8d. being offered to each deserter. +This is no doubt what is technically +known as a <i>ballon d'essai</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The House of Commons is +giving serious consideration to +the Daylight Saving Scheme. +But certain occupants of the +Treasury Bench (we are careful +not to "refer to" them as members +of the Cabinet) are said +to be withholding their support +till they know what it is +that the surplus daylight is to +be let into.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>PAY PARADE.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/305.png"><img width="100%" src="images/305.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Officer.</i> "<span class="sc">Have you made an allotment</span>?"</p> + +<p><i>Recruit.</i> "<span class="sc">Oh, no, Sir! I give up me fowls and cabbages +the day afore I joined the army</span>."</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"London, April 6.—A Zeppelin +airship attacked the north-east coast +of England on Wednesday afternoon, +but was driven off by our +anti-Haircraft defences."</p> + +<p><i>Daily Chronicle (Jamaica).</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>This subtle allusion to the +former occupation of the Zeppelin crew +has, we believe, caused much anxiety +among the ex-barbers in the German +Service, who fear that the A.A.C. will +go for them bald-headed.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"April 23rd was ... the 300th anniversary +of the birth of Shakespeare and of the death +of Shakespeare."—<i>Daily Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>And to think of all he accomplished +in less than twenty-four hours!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>At a Red Cross sale:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"The exors. of the late Robert Dawson's +calf made £6."—<i>Eastern Daily Press.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We wonder if this generous gift came +out of the pockets of the next-of-kine.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"For whoever was responsible for that +blunder, which in most countries would +certainly have evoked a cry of betrayal, the +mainsheet of Nelson's Victory would be all +too inadequate as a penitential white sheet +and far too illustrious as a shroud."</p> + +<p><i>The Leader (British East Africa).</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We agree, but it would make a splendid +halter.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page306" id="page306"></a>[pg 306]</span> + +<h2>THE WAY OF THOMAS.</h2> + +<h3>Theory and Practice.</h3> + +<p>Scene.<i>—Sand on the —— Frontier +of —-. A Cavalry outpost recently +arrived is sitting in a hollow in a vile +temper, morosely gouging hunks of +tepid bully beef out of red tins. +Several thousand mosquitos are assiduously +eating the outpost. There +is nothing to do except to kill the +beasts and watch the antics of the +scavenger beetle, who extracts a precarious +livelihood from the sand by +rolling all refuse into little balls and +burying them. It is very hot.</i></p> + +<p><i>1st Trooper.</i> Shoot the devils, I +would. I can't understand their letting +'em go the way they do. The first one +I meets I shoots. Killing our wounded +the way they do.</p> + +<p><i>2nd Trooper.</i> Ay, and killing's not +the worst they do, neither. You should +ha' seen them, two poor fellows of ours +wot was found. You wouldn't be taking +no prisoners after that.</p> + +<p><i>1st Trooper.</i> If I 'ad my way I +wouldn't take no prisoners. 'Tain't +safe, for one thing. That was 'ow pore +old Bill got done in; went to take a +white-headed old devil prisoner as +might have been his grandfather, and +he up and strafed him in the stomach +with a shot-gun. Don't care 'oo it is. +They say the women's as bad as the +men.</p> + +<p><i>Corporal (darkly).</i> Ah, shooting's too +good for 'em, I say, after wot they done.</p> + +<p><i>1st Trooper.</i> They do say they're +starving now. Living on grass, 'alf of +'em; specially after that lot of camels +wot was captured.</p> + +<p><i>Corporal (darkly).</i> Ah, let 'em starve, +I say. Starving's too good for 'em +after wot they done.</p> + +<p><i>2nd Trooper.</i> That's just it. They +won't let 'em starve. As soon as +they've finished killing our wounded +they comes into our camp with all +their families, and we feeds 'em up +with dates and biscuits and probably +lets 'em go again.</p> + +<p><i>1st Trooper.</i> We're too soft-'earted, +that's wot we are. Them Germans +wouldn't carry on like that; they'd +shoot 'em quick and no more said.</p> + +<p><i>2nd Trooper.</i> Ay, you're right there, +and when we gets home the first thing +we shall find is a relief fund to provide +food for 'em.</p> + +<p><i>Corporal.</i> Well, they'd better not +come near <i>this</i> post; they won't get +no dates 'ere.</p> + +<p><i>Sentry.</i> Corporal, I can see 'alf-a-dozen +of them blighters coming along +about a mile away. Shall I give 'em +one?</p> + +<p><i>Corporal.</i> No, you idiot. Let's 'ave +a look at 'em first.</p> + +<p><i>[Enter a middle-aged Arab, dressed in +the most indescribable rags and in +the last stage of exhaustion. He is +followed at long intervals by his +family to two generations, who watch +his reception anxiously from afar.]</i></p> + +<p><i>Arab (falling flat on his face at sight +of the Corporal). Bimbashi, bimbashi, +mongeries, mongeries.</i></p> + +<p><i>Corporal.</i> Yes, I'll bash yer all right. +Grey-'eaded old reprobate, you ought +to know better.</p> + +<p><i>Arab (in an anguished voice). Mongeries, +mongeries.</i></p> + +<p><i>1st Trooper.</i> Lord, he do look thin, +por beggar. <i>Mongeries</i>—that means +food, don't it? 'E looks as if 'e hadn't +eaten nothing for weeks. 'Ere, 'ave a +biscuit, old sport.</p> + +<p><i>[Arab makes a spasmodic wriggle towards +him.]</i></p> + +<p><i>2nd Trooper.</i> Look out, Bill, 'e's +going to bite your leg.</p> + +<p><i>1st Trooper (with dignity).</i> No, 'e +ain't; 'e's a-going to kiss my boots. +Gorblimy, 'e's a rum old devil!</p> + +<p><i>Corporal (suddenly remembering his +duty).</i> 'Ere you, take your clothes off. +Efta aygry. Strip.</p> + +<p><i>[The Arab undoes his rags, which slip +to the ground.]</i></p> + +<p><i>2nd Trooper.</i> Blimy, Alf, look at 'em. +I never see such a thing in my life. +Look at that big one on his neck.</p> + +<p><i>1st Trooper (suddenly).</i> I say, old +chap, don't you never 'ave a bath?</p> + +<p><i>2nd Trooper.</i> Lord, though, ain't he +thin? 'E's a fair skeleton.</p> + +<p><i>[The Arab puts on his clothes again +and falls exhausted with the effort.]</i></p> + +<p><i>Corporal.</i> Pore old feller, 'e's fair +done; give 'im a biscuit, Alf.</p> + +<p><i>1st Trooper.</i> Try 'im with some bully; +they say they won't eat that, though.</p> + +<p><i>2nd Trooper.</i> Won't 'e! I never seen +the stuff go so quick. 'Ere, old feller, +don't eat the tin.</p> + +<p><i>Corporal.</i> Don't give 'im any more +or 'e'll kill 'isself. Let's see if his +family can do the disappearing trick as +quick as 'e can. Poor devils, they've +been through something. 'Ere, you +family, <i>mongeries</i>. <i>Tala henna.</i></p> + +<p><i>[The family are brought up and fed +on the day's rations.]</i></p> + +<p><i>2nd Trooper.</i> Lord, Alf, look at this +kid; 'is legs ain't as thick as my finger; +cries just like they do at 'ome too. +'Ere, 'ave a bit o' jam.</p> + +<p><i>Corporal.</i> Take 'em back to camp +now and 'and 'em over. Come on, old +boy; you're all right. Lord, ain't +they pretty near done. Lucky they +found us when they did.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>The Better Half.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"Thames Ditton.—Attested man called up +willing to let half house, or take another +lady in similar position."—<i>Daily Telegraph.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<h2>"WE GIVE OUR SONS."</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Such our proud cry—a vain and empty boast;</p> +<p class="i2">Love did not ask so great a sacrifice;</p> +<p>The first <i>réveillé</i> found you at your post;</p> +<p class="i2">You knew the cost; clear-eyed you paid the price;</p> +<p>Some far clear call we were too dull to hear</p> +<p class="i6">Had caught your ear.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Not ours to urge you, or to know the voice;</p> +<p class="i2">No stern decree you followed or obeyed;</p> +<p>Nothing compelled your swift unerring choice,</p> +<p class="i2">Except the stuff of which your dreams were made;</p> +<p>To that high instinct passionately true,</p> +<p class="i6">Your way you knew.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>We did not give you—all unasked you went,</p> +<p class="i2">Sons of a greater motherhood than ours;</p> +<p>To our proud hearts your young brief lives were lent,</p> +<p class="i2">Then swept beyond us by resistless powers.</p> +<p>Only we hear, when we have lost our all,</p> +<p class="i6"> That far clear call.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A Non-Stop Service.</h3> + +<p>The following announcement was recently +made at a Liverpool church:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"The service to-night will be at six o'clock, +and will be continued until further notice." +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Mr. Butcher expressed his thanks to Mr. +Wood for his kind words, and said it was a +great satisfaction to know that his efforts had +been appreciated, and very gratifying to be +thanked by one of the staff. He might reply +in the words of Betsy Twigge, 'Changing the +name, the same to you.'"</p> + +<p><i>Ashbourne Telegraph.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We note, but do not approve, the change.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Washington, Friday.</p> + +<p>Sir Cecil Spring Rice has been instructed +to apologise for the action of the British +Governor at Trinidad in failing to return +the call of the Secretary to the Treasury, +Mr. McAdoo, on the latter's visit on board +the American cruiser <i>Tennessee</i>."</p> + +<p><i>Exchange Telegraph.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Much McAdoo about nothing.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The <i>Evening News</i> publishes an account +of a conversation between "Prince +Henry of Prussia (the Kaiser's brother) +and Admiral Issimo, of Germany." The +Issimos are a most distinguished fighting +family (of Italian origin), and whenever +they have adopted either a military +or naval career have invariably come +to the very top.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page307" id="page307"></a>[pg 307]</span> + +<h3>WAKE UP, ENGLAND!</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/307.png"><img width="100%" src="images/307.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">The Sun</span> (<i>to Householder</i>). "NOW, THEN, WHY +WASTE YOUR DAYLIGHT? SAVE IT AND GIVE IT TO THE COUNTRY."</p> + +<p>[If only for the sake of economy in artificial light during War-time, +the Daylight-saving scheme should have the support of all patriots.]</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page308" id="page308"></a>[pg 308]</span> + +<h2>THE WATCH DOGS.</h2> + +<h3>XXXIX.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">My dear Charles</span>,—There comes a +time in the life of the military motor +when, owing to one thing or another +(but mostly another), it becomes a +casualty and retires, on the ground of +ill-health, to the Base. As such it is +towed into the nearest workshops; but, +before it departs to the Base there +arrive, from all corners of the Army +area, drivers of other similar motors, +coming, as you might say, "for a purpose." +These are the vultures who +have got to hear of the affair, are sorry +indeed that such mishaps should occur, +but, stifling their sorrow, see their way +to snaffle some little benefit for themselves.</p> + +<p>One vulture will come to exchange +old lamps for new, another to +do a deal in magnetos, and a +third, may be, to better himself +in the matter of wheels. +There will be some squabbling, +and, when the work is done, +the last state of that casualty +will be worse than the first, +and it will proceed to the +Base a melancholy collection +of all the most dilapidated +parts in the area, for which +even the most optimistic +authority at the back of beyond +will see no useful future.</p> + +<p>Yesterday the following interview +took place at my little +office, which is also my little +home and is very handsomely +and elaborately furnished with +a system of boxes, some to sit +on, some to write on and some +to go to sleep in.</p> + +<p>"An officer to see you, Sir," said +the orderly, and in there came a +representative from Signals who was +pleased to meet me. I put aside my +work in order to deal with him politely, +firmly and once and for all.</p> + +<p>"If," I said haughtily, "you are the +gentleman who rings me up on the +telephone every morning at 7 <span class="sc">A.M.</span>, goes +on ringing me up till I creep to the +instrument and murmur 'Hello!' and +then tells me that is all and will I +please ring off, then I too am glad we +have met at last."</p> + +<p>He denied the suggestion so hotly +that I unbent a little. I asked him to +be seated, and offered him a part of my +bed for the purpose.</p> + +<p>"It's like this," he began.</p> + +<p>"Is it?" said I. "Then no doubt +you want me to sign an Army Form +and take all the responsibility?"</p> + +<p>"For what?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," I answered; +"and it doesn't much matter, +for I shall only pass it on to someone +else, please."</p> + +<p>For once it wasn't an Army Form. +Was I not, he ventured to ask, the +proprietor of a small car?</p> + +<p>"What was once a small car before +it met what was once a large telegraph +pole," I said thoughtlessly.</p> + +<p>He was glad to hear this, as he too +was the owner of a small car. We +shook hands on that, though we knew +all the time that H.M. Government +was the owner of both. H.M. Government +not being present, however, to +insist on its rights, we were able to +do a quiet swank. In the course of it +he mentioned, quite by the way, the +matter of shock-absorbers. He had reason +to believe that my car could spare +his car a couple of these.</p> + +<p>I saw the need for hedging. "That +telegraph pole I mentioned just now +wasn't really very large," I explained, +"and it came away quietly, offering no +resistance."</p> + +<p>He smiled knowingly at that.</p> + +<p>"Were <i>you</i>," I continued, fixing a cold +and relentless eye upon him—"were +you equally lucky with your—your—?"</p> + +<p>"Small lorry," he said, with a faint +blush. "A tiny lorry, in fact."</p> + +<p>"Not more than a dozen tons or so?" +I suggested. "No doubt it passed +quite gradually over you, frightening +more than hurting you, and you were +able to walk home with remainder +of small motor in pocket of greatcoat?"</p> + +<p>He didn't go into that subject. "By +the way," he said, "I happened to be +round at the workshops just now——"</p> + +<p>"Did you, indeed?" I took him up. +"Then let me tell you at once that the +wreckage in the workshop's yard was +not my small car, so you may abandon +any hopes you had built upon that."</p> + +<p>He appeared to be surprised at the +attitude I adopted.</p> + +<p>"No," he said slowly—"no, I knew +that wasn't <i>your</i> car."</p> + +<p>I thought rapidly. "It was <i>yours</i>," +I hazarded, "and your idea was to +re-equip that battered wreck at the +expense of my very slightly injured +property?"</p> + +<p>He smiled shamelessly.</p> + +<p>"You are a most unscrupulous +officer," I said, "and I'm beginning +to think you <i>are</i> the voice which gets +me out of bed—I mean, interrupts my +work—every morning at dawn."</p> + +<p>"No, really," he replied, glad to have +something to be honest about. "At +that hour I am always in—at work +myself."</p> + +<p>We shook hands again on that and I +offered him a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Have one of mine," said he.</p> + +<p>"No, no," I pressed; "you +have one of mine."</p> + +<p>Again, if the truth had been +admitted, H.M. Government +was the rightful owner of +both.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he explained, +"you saw my little 'bus from +quite its worst aspect in that +yard."</p> + +<p>I was for getting to business. +"I want," said I, "a +back axle-shaft, a head-light, +a wind-screen and some mud-guards. +What's yours?"</p> + +<p>"I could do with a spare +wheel-holder, a horn, a couple +of yards of foot-board," he +said. "Two shock-absorbers +and at least one wheel I must +have."</p> + +<p>A little discussion proved +that between us we could put up a +very decent car. The only difficulty +arose from a doubt as to what was to +happen when we went out in it. It +would still be a two-seater, and neither +of our chauffeurs was small enough to +be carried in the tool-box. Who was +going to drive, who was going to sit by +and, when occasion demanded, step out +and do the dirty work? Neither of +us seeing his way to give in on these +points, we had to think of some other +solution.</p> + +<p>"You mentioned the workshops just +now," I said. "Were you going on to +say that the officer in charge told you +of another small car which was in +trouble?"</p> + +<p>"He did," said Signals.</p> + +<p>"Same here," said I. "Did he then +recommend you to get what you +wanted off that other car?"</p> + +<p>"He did," said Signals.</p> + +<p>"Same here," said I. "And did +you also ascertain that this officer in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page309" id="page309"></a>[pg 309]</span> +charge possesses a small car of his own +rich in standard parts?"</p> + +<p>"I did," said Signals.</p> + +<p>"Same here," said I. "Let us go +out and look for that——"</p> + +<p>"Officer in charge," said Signals.</p> + +<p>"No," said I, "his car." I felt that +we were justified, in the circumstances, +in dividing it between us.</p> + +<p>But there is no limit to these officers +in charge of workshops. We had the +greatest difficulty in finding his car at +all, and, when we did, it had the +appearance of being deliberately concealed. +Worse still; when we found +the car we found also a sentry standing +over it, with rifle and fixed bayonet. +Though we took this to be a direct +insult to ourselves, we were too proud +to go and expostulate with the officer +himself about it.</p> + +<p>Yours ever, <span class="sc">Henry</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/308.png"><img width="100%" src="images/308.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Unfortunate position of once popular Berlin naval +battle artist, whose occupation has vanished through +his having rashly sunk the entire British Fleet at an +early stage of the war.</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/309a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/309a.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">The conscientious special.</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/309b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/309b.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">The ingenious bank manager.</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/309c.png"><img width="100%" src="images/309c.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">And the cautious burglar.</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/309d.png"><img width="100%" src="images/309d.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Who lacked staying power</span>.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A LETTER.</h2> + +<blockquote class="note">(From Captain Claude Seaforth to a +novelist friend.)</blockquote> + +<p><span class="sc">My dear Man</span>,—You asked me to +tell you if anything very remarkable +came my way. I think I have a story +for you at last. If I could only write +I would make something of it myself, +but not being of Kitchener's Army I +can't.</p> + +<p>The other day, while I was clearing +up papers and accounts and all over +ink, as I always get, the Sergeant came +to me, looking very rum. "Two young +fellows want to see you," he said.</p> + +<p>Of course I said I was too busy and +that he must deal with them.</p> + +<p>"I think you'd rather see them yourself," +he said, with another odd look.</p> + +<p>"What do they want?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"They want to enlist," he said; "but +they don't want to see the doctor."</p> + +<p>We've had some of these before—consumptives +of the bull-dog breed, you +know. Full of pluck but no mortal use; +"done in" on the first route march.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you tell them that they +must see the doctor and have done +with it?" I asked the Sergeant.</p> + +<p>Again he smiled queerly. "I made +sure you'd rather do it yourself," he +said. "Shall I send them in?"</p> + +<p>So I wished them further and said +"Yes;" and in they came.</p> + +<p>They were the prettiest boys you +ever saw in your life—too pretty. One +had red hair and the other black, and +they were dressed like navvies. They +held their caps in their hands.</p> + +<p>"What's this rubbish about not +seeing a doctor?" I asked. You know +my brutal way.</p> + +<p>"We thought perhaps it could be +dispensed with," Red Hair said, drawing +nearer to Black Hair.</p> + +<p>"Of course it can't," I told them. +"What's the use to the Army of +weaklings who can't stand the strain? +They're just clogs in the machinery. +Don't you see that?"</p> + +<p>"We're very strong," Red Hair said, +"only——"</p> + +<p>"Only what?"</p> + +<p>"Only——" Here they looked at +each other, and Red Hair said, "Shall +we?" and Black Hair said, "Yes;" +and they both came closer to me.</p> + +<p>"Will you promise," said Red Hair, +"that you will treat as confidential +anything we say to you?"</p> + +<p>"So long as it is nothing dangerous +to the State," I said, rather proud of +myself for thinking of it.</p> + +<p>"We want to fight for our country," +Red Hair began.</p> + +<p>"No one wants to fight more," Black +Hair put in.</p> + +<p>"And we're very strong," Red Hair +continued.</p> + +<p>"I won a cup for lawn-tennis at +Devonshire Park," Black Hair added.</p> + +<p>"But," said Red Hair.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" I replied.</p> + +<p>"Don't you believe in some women +being as strong as men?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," I said.</p> + +<p>"Well then," said Red Hair, "that's +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page310" id="page310"></a>[pg 310]</span> +like us. We are as strong as lots of +men and much keener, and we want +you to be kind to us and let us enlist."</p> + +<p>"We'll never do anything to give +ourselves away," said Black Hair; but, +bless her innocent heart, she was +giving herself away all the time. +Every moment was feminine.</p> + +<p>"My dear young ladies," I said at +last, "I think you are splendid and an +example to the world; but what you +ask is impossible. Have you thought +for a moment what it would be like +to find yourselves in barracks with the +ordinary British soldier? He is a +brave man and, when you meet him +alone, he is nearly always a nice man; +but collectively he might not do as +company for you."</p> + +<p>"But look at this," said Red Hair, +showing me a newspaper-cutting about +a group of Russian girls known as +"The Twelve Friends," who have been +through the campaign and were treated +with the utmost respect by the soldiers.</p> + +<p>"And there's a woman buried at +Brighton," said Black Hair, "who +fought as a man for years and lived to +be a hundred."</p> + +<p>"And think of <span class="sc">Joan of Arc</span>," said +Red Hair.</p> + +<p>"And <span class="sc">Boadicea</span>," said Black Hair.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said, "leaving <span class="sc">Joan of +Arc</span> and <span class="sc">Boadicea</span> aside, possibly those +Russians and that Brighton woman +looked like men, which it is certain +you don't. But any way we must be +serious. What would your people +say?"</p> + +<p>"We left word," said Red Hair, +"that we were going off to do something +for our country. They won't +worry. Oh, please be kind and help +us!"</p> + +<p>Here all four of their beautiful eyes +grow moist.</p> + +<p>I could have hugged both of them, +but I kept an iron hand on myself.</p> + +<p>"You nice absurd creatures," I said, +"do be reasonable. To begin with, +passing the doctor is an absolute +necessity. That shuts you out. But +even if you got through how do +you think you would be helping your +country? All the men would be falling +in love with you; and that's bad +enough as it is after working hours; +it would be the ruin of discipline. And +you could not bear the fatigue. No, +go back and learn to be nurses and let +your lovely hair grow again."</p> + +<p>They were very obstinate and very +unwilling to entertain the thought of +drudgery such as nursing after all their +dreams of excitement; but at last they +came to reason, and I sent for a cab +and packed them off in it (I simply +could not bear the idea of other people +seeing them in that masquerade), and +told them that the sooner they changed +the better.</p> + +<p>After they had gone the Sergeant +came in about something.</p> + +<p>I said nothing, and he said nothing, +each of us waiting for the other.</p> + +<p>He moved about absolutely silently, +and I dared not meet his glance because +I knew I should give myself away. +The rascal has not been running his +eye over young women all these years +without being able to spot them in a +moment, even in navvy's clothes.</p> + +<p>At last I could stand it no longer. +"Damn it," I said, "what are you +doing? Why don't you go? I didn't +send for you." But still I didn't dare +look up.</p> + +<p>"I thought perhaps you had something +to say to me, Sir," he said.</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't," I replied. "Why +should I? What about?"</p> + +<p>"Only about those two young men, +Sir," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Get out," I said; but before he +could go I had burst into laughter.</p> + +<p>"Better not mention it," I managed +to say.</p> + +<p>He promised.</p> + +<p>There—won't you find that useful?</p> + +<p>Yours, C. S.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A VERY RARE BIRD.</h2> + +<p>Brown lives next door but one to +me. His speciality is birds, and he +must be a frightful nuisance to them. +I shouldn't care to be a bird if Brown +knew where my nest was. It isn't +that he takes their eggs. If he would +merely rob them and go away it +wouldn't matter so much. They could +always begin again after a decent interval. +But a naturalist of the modern +school doesn't want a bird's eggs; he +wants to watch her sitting on them. +Now sitting is a business that demands +concentration, a strong effort of the +will and an undistracted mind. How +on earth is a bird to concentrate when +she knows perfectly well that Brown, +disguised as a tree or a sheep or a +haycock, is watching her day after +day for hours at a stretch and snap-shotting +her every five minutes or so +for some confounded magazine? In +nine cases out of ten she lets her +thoughts wander and ends half unconsciously +by posing, with the result +that most of her eggs don't hatch out.</p> + +<p>Brown has a highly-trained sense of +hearing. You and I, of course, possess +pretty good ears for ordinary purposes. +We can catch as soon as anyone else +that muffled midnight hum, as of a +distant threshing-machine beneath a +blanket, which advertises the approach +of the roaming Zepp. From constant +practice, too, we have learnt, sitting in +our drawing room or study, to distinguish +the crash of the overturned +nursery table upstairs from the duller, +less resonant thud of baby's head as +it strikes the floor. But can we positively +state from the note of the blackbird +at the bottom of the garden +whether it has three, four or five eggs +in its nest, or indeed if it is a house-holder +at all? No, we cannot; but +Brown can.</p> + +<p>Even specialists, however, occasionally +make mistakes. A day or two +ago, just as dusk was falling, Brown +entered my house in a state of considerable +excitement and informed me +that a pair of reed-warblers were building +in my orchard.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Quite," he replied. "I have not +actually seen the birds yet, but I have +heard them from my own garden, and +of course the note of the nesting reed-warbler +is unmistakable."</p> + +<p>"Of course," I agreed.</p> + +<p>"It is a most extraordinary occurrence," +he continued, "most extraordinary."</p> + +<p>"You mean because there are no +reeds there?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly."</p> + +<p>I was quite certain in my own mind +that there were no reed-warblers either, +but I felt it would be impertinent for +a layman like myself to argue with +Brown.</p> + +<p>"There!" he exclaimed, darting to +the open window. "Can't you hear it?"</p> + +<p>I listened. "Oh, that," I said; +"that's——"</p> + +<p>"The mating song of the male reed-warbler," +interrupted Brown ecstatically. +"Now, whatever happens, don't +let them be disturbed. Don't even try +to find the nest, or you may alarm +them. Leave it all to me. I shan't +have a free morning till Saturday, +but there's no hurry. I'll bring my +camera round then, and when I've +located the spot they're building in +I'll rig up a hiding-place and take +some photos. Don't let anybody go +near them; the great thing is to make +them feel quite at home." He was +gone before I could explain.</p> + +<p>It is rather an awkward situation, +because, when Brown comes on Saturday +morning, I am afraid that if he +secures any really successful photos +they will prove a disappointment to +him. They will represent my gardener, +Williams, trundling a barrow, the wheel +of which is badly in need of oil.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>Tercentenarians.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"It is one of the most marvellous of doubles +that William Shakespeare and Miguel de Cervantes +died on the very same day of the same +year—on the 23rd day of April, 1916."</p> + +<p><i>The Leader (B.E. Africa).</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page311" id="page311"></a>[pg 311]</span> + +<h3>ROYAL ACADEMY-FIRST DEPRESSIONS.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/311a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/311a.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Gerald Kelly.</span> <i>The Bird</i>. <span class="sc">"Lucky thing +I'm stuffed or I'd have fallen off this +perch long ago!"</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/311b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/311b.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Nurah Cundell. Women Workers on the land playing with their week's +wages. Note the Physical Development Produced by the open-air life.</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/311c.png"><img width="100%" src="images/311c.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Robert Burns. The lady spy, having finished her performance +of the hymn of hate, sets the signal lights and awaits confidently +the arrival of the German fleet.</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/311d.png"><img width="100%" src="images/311d.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Sir E. J. Poynter, Bt., P.R.A. The +shell-worker's mid-day rest.</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/311e.png"><img width="100%" src="images/311e.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">W. Orpen, A.R.A. and A. S. Cope, R.A.</span> <i>Lord +Spencer.</i> "<span class="sc">Not bad, but I fancy I take</span> <i>The Tailor and +Cutter's</i> <span class="sc">prize</span>."</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/311f.png"><img width="100%" src="images/311f.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">This is not in the Academy, but represents the Spirit +of Allegory luring ambitious artists to their doom.</span></p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page312" id="page312"></a>[pg 312]</span> + +<h3>"WHEN THE BOYS COME HOME."</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/312a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/312a.png" alt=""/></a><p>Many women who are taking over men's work may not feel inclined to return to their former occupations after the War. +Their work in that case will have to be done by men.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Ex-soldiers Waiting in the Consulting-boom of Their +Panel Doctor To Be Treated for "housemaid's Knee."</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/312b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/312b.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Male nurse receiving the glad eye from a military +man-killer.</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE SOLDIER'S SPRING.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">On stormy days I get quite warlike;</p> +<p class="i6">I find it easy to be fierce</p> +<p class="i4">In winter, when the land is more like</p> +<p class="i6">The Arctic Pole, with winds that pierce;</p> +<p>With James for foe and all the meadows mired</p> +<p class="i2">I feel in concord with the wildest plan,</p> +<p>And grudge no effort that may be required</p> +<p class="i8">To enfilade the man.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">But now how hard, when Spring is active,</p> +<p class="i6">To utter anything but purrs;</p> +<p class="i4">With all the hillside so attractive</p> +<p class="i6">How can one concentrate on "spurs"?</p> +<p>And oh, I sympathise with that young scout</p> +<p class="i2">Whom anxious folk sent forth to spy the foe,</p> +<p>But he came back and cried, "<i>The lilac's out</i>!</p> +<p class="i8">And that is all I know."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">They ask me things about my picket,</p> +<p class="i6">And whether I'm in touch with whom;</p> +<p class="i4">I want to lie in yonder thicket,</p> +<p class="i6">I only wish to touch the bloom;</p> +<p>And when men agitate about their flanks</p> +<p class="i2">And say their left is sadly in the air,</p> +<p>I hear the missel-thrush and murmur, "Thanks,</p> +<p class="i8">I wish that I was there."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">When we extend and crawl in grim rows,</p> +<p class="i6">I want to go and wander free;</p> +<p class="i4">I deviate to pluck a primrose,</p> +<p class="i6">I stay behind to watch a bee;</p> +<p>Nor have the heart to keep the men in line,</p> +<p class="i2">When some have lingered where the squirrels leap,</p> +<p>And some are busy by the eglantine,</p> +<p class="i8">And some are sound asleep.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">And always I am filled with presage</p> +<p class="i6">That, some fair noon of balmy airs,</p> +<p class="i4">I shall indite a rude Field Message</p> +<p class="i6">If Colonels pry in my affairs;</p> +<p>Shall tell them simply, "It is early May,</p> +<p class="i2">And here the daffodils are almost old;</p> +<p>About that sentry-group I cannot say——</p> +<p class="i8">In fact it leaves me cold."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">But, strange, I do not think the enemy</p> +<p class="i6">In Spring-tide on the Chersonnese</p> +<p class="i4">Was any whit less vile or venomy</p> +<p class="i6">When all the heavens whispered Peace;</p> +<p>Though wild birds babbled in the cypress dim,</p> +<p class="i2">And through thick fern the drowsy lizards stole,</p> +<p>It never had the least effect on him—</p> +<p class="i8">He can't have had a soul.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Mr. Lloyd George is taking over all the distilleries with patent +stills for munition work. Bonded whisky is sufficient for two +years' conviction."—<i>Times of Ceylon.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Provided that you take enough of it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"It was a delight to hear the voices of the children ring through +the class-rooms in songs like 'Orpheus with his Lute' and 'Where +is Sylvia?'"—<i>Daily News.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We note an error in the latter title. It should, of course, +have been, "Has anybody here seen Sylvia?"</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page313" id="page313"></a>[pg 313]</span> + +<h3>THE NEW DAMOCLES.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/313.png"><img width="100%" src="images/313.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">John Bull</span>. "I WON'T HAVE THIS THING HANGING OVER +MY HEAD ANY LONGER. I'LL HAVE IT IN MY HAND."</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page314" id="page314"></a>[pg 314]</span> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<p><i>Tuesday, May 2nd.</i>—The House of +Commons was unusually well attended +this afternoon. Members filled the +benches and overflowed into the galleries, +and many Peers looked down upon +the scene, among them Lord <span class="sc">Grenfell</span>, +formerly Commander-in-Chief in Ireland, +and Lord <span class="sc">MacDonnell</span>, once +Under-Secretary to the Lord-Lieutenant. +All were curious to learn what the <span class="sc">Prime +Minister</span> would have to say about +the painful events of the past week. +Would he announce that the Government, +conscious of failure, had decided +to resign <i>en bloc</i>? Or would it be +merely pruned and strengthened by +the lopping of a few of the obviously +weaker branches?</p> + +<p>Nothing of the sort. Mr. <span class="sc">Asquith</span> +made the barest allusion to the surrender +of Kut—an incident +which was "not one +of serious military significance." +As for the insurrection +in Dublin, there +would be a debate upon +it as soon as the Government +had completed its +enquiries. The main purpose +of his speech was +to announce that the +Government had decided +to introduce a Bill for +general compulsion, and +to get rid of the piece-meal +treatment of recruiting +to which the House +had objected. Members +were, I think, hardly prepared +for the vigour with +which the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span> +turned upon his critics, reminding them +that just the same denunciation of +"vacillating statesmen" was current +in the days of <span class="sc">Pitt</span>. No doubt there +had been blunders both in policy and +strategy, but nevertheless the contribution +of this Kingdom and this +Empire to the common cause was +growing steadily, and the military +situation of the Allies was never so +good as it was to-day. If the Government +no longer had the confidence of +the people, he thundered out, "let the +House say so."</p> + +<p>While the immediate answer to this +challenge was a volley of cheers, most +of the speakers in the subsequent debate +disguised their confidence in the +Government so successfully that it +almost appeared to be non-existent. +From Sir <span class="sc">Edward Carson</span>, who acidly +remarked that it was unnecessary for +him to praise the Government, as +"they always do that for themselves," +down to Sir <span class="sc">John Simon</span>, who declared +that compulsion was being introduced +from considerations of political expediency +rather than military necessity, no +one seemed to be convinced that the +Government even now quite knew its +own mind.</p> + +<p>The House of Lords, after listening +to a moving tribute to the memory +of Lord <span class="sc">St. Aldwyn</span> from his old colleague, +Lord <span class="sc">Lansdowne</span>, settled down +to a debate on the new Order in Council +prohibiting references to Cabinet +secrets. It met with equal condemnation +from Lord <span class="sc">Parmoor</span> as a +constitutional lawyer and from Lord +<span class="sc">Burnham</span> as a practical journalist. +The Ministers who "blabbed" were the +real criminals. Lord <span class="sc">Burnham</span> recommended +to them the example of the +gentleman in the French Revolution, +who always wore a gag in order to +retain his self-control.</p> + +<p>Lord <span class="sc">Buckmaster</span>, that "most susceptible +Chancellor," made a very +ingenuous defence of his colleagues. +They were the unconscious victims of +adroit interviewers, who obtained information +from them by a process of +extraction so painless that they did +not know the value of what they were +giving away.</p> + +<p>It is time that these innocents were +protected against themselves. A gag +must in future be issued to every Minister +with his Windsor uniform. The +discarded G.R. armlets of the V.T.C. +might very well serve the purpose.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday, May 3rd</i>.—When, some +nine years ago, Mr. <span class="sc">Augustine Birrell</span> +was appointed Chief Secretary to the +Lord-Lieutenant a friend who had +some knowledge of Irish affairs wrote +to him: "I do not know whether to congratulate +you or condole with you, but +I think it is the latter."</p> + +<p>It was an easy guess, but its confirmation +took an unusually long time. +Indeed, at one moment it looked as if +Mr. <span class="sc">Birrell</span> would escape the almost +invariable fate of Irish Secretaries, and +leave Dublin with his political reputation +enhanced. When he had placed +the National University Act on the +Statute-book, thus solving a problem +that had baffled his predecessors since +the Union, he might have sung his +<i>Nunc Dimittis</i> in a halo.</p> + +<p>Perhaps he was not sufficiently ambitious +to demand release; perhaps +none of his colleagues was anxious to +take his job; perhaps the Nationalist +leader insisted on keeping him +in the silken fetters of office as a hostage +for Home Rule. Anyhow, the +opportunity was missed; and thenceforward +Nemesis dogged his track.</p> + +<p>Two years ago it seemed that Ulster +would be his stumbling-block. The +War saved him from that, but only to +bring him down through more sinister +instruments. In his pathetic apology +this afternoon he confessed +that he had failed +to estimate accurately the +strength of the Sinn Fein +movement. He might +have been wrong in not +suppressing it before, but +his omission to do so was +due to a consuming desire +to keep Ireland's front +united in face of the common +foe.</p> + +<p>This frank admission of +error would in any case +have disarmed hostile criticism; +but its effect was +strengthened by the unseemly +interjections with +which Mr. <span class="sc">Ginnell</span> accompanied +it. If the +Member for Westmeath +is a sample of the sort of persons with +whom the <span class="sc">Chief Secretary</span> had to deal, +no wonder that he failed to understand +the lengths to which they would go.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Redmond</span>, obviously disgusted +by the pranks of his nominal supporter, +chivalrously shouldered part of +the blame that Mr. <span class="sc">Birrell</span> had taken +upon himself; and even Sir <span class="sc">Edward +Carson</span>, though a life-long and bitter +opponent of his policy, was ready to +admit that he had been well-intentioned +and had done his best.</p> + +<p>Later on, when the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span> +had introduced the new Military Service +Bill, establishing compulsion for +all men married or single, Colonel <span class="sc">Craig</span> +made a vain appeal to Mr. <span class="sc">Redmond</span> +to get the measure extended to Ireland. +Nothing would do more to show the +world that the recent rebellion was +only the work of an insignificant +section of the Irish people.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/314.png"><img width="100%" src="images/314.png" alt=""/></a><p>HIS MASTER'S VOICE.</p> + +<p>(With acknowledgments to the well-known poster.)</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George</span> to Mr. <span class="sc">Holt</span>, who moved the rejection of the Bill.</p></div> + +<p><i>Thursday, May 4th</i>.—Although Mr. +<span class="sc">Ginnell</span> was one of the Members +to whom the Government were +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page315" id="page315"></a>[pg 315]</span> +ready a week ago to impart secrets of +State with which the Press was not +deemed fit to be trusted, I gather that +he has other sources of information +which he considers much more trustworthy. +Among various tit-bits with +which he regaled the House this afternoon +was a suggested reason why +British aircraft have not yet bombarded +Essen. He has his suspicions that it is +because members of the British Cabinet +have shares in some of <span class="sc">Frau Krupp's</span> +subsidiary companies.</p> + +<p>Most people know that all leave from +the Front was stopped just before +Easter, and have hitherto assumed +that the stoppage was due to the +exigencies of the military situation. +To Mr. <span class="sc">Peto</span>, an earnest seeker after +truth, as befits his name, Mr. <span class="sc">Tennant</span> +admitted that there was another reason. +Last year, it seems, some returning +warriors got so much mixed up in the +congested Easter traffic that they never +reached home at all, so this year the +authorities resolved to keep them out +of the danger-zone.</p> + +<p>The Government welcomes any suggestion +that may help to win the War. +Mr. <span class="sc">Eugene Wason's</span> latest idea is +that if the War Office and the Admiralty +were to put their heads together they +might make it easier for outdoor artists +in Cornwall to obtain permits to pursue +their studies, at present restricted, +in military areas; and Mr. <span class="sc">Tennant</span> +assured him that this important matter +was still "under consideration."</p> + +<p>The Second Reading of the Military +Service Bill brought forth some rather +trite arguments from Mr. <span class="sc">Holt</span> and +other opponents of compulsion, and a +lively defence from Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George</span>, +who thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity, +after a long silence, of being +able to speak his mind without fear of +complications with his colleagues. +With examples drawn from France and +the American Civil War he argued that +compulsory service was an essential +incident of true democracy. But an +even more effective backing for the Bill +came from Mr. <span class="sc">Arthur Henderson</span>. +Hitherto, according to his own description, +"the heaviest drag-weight of the +Cabinet," he now lent it increased +momentum, and carried with him into +the Lobby all but nine of his colleagues +of the Labour Party. Altogether, Sir +<span class="sc">John Simon</span> and his friends mustered +just three dozen, and the Second Reading +was carried against them by a +majority of 292.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/315.png"><img width="100%" src="images/315.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Dear Old Silly.</i> "<span class="sc">And where do you two come +from</span>?"</p> + +<p><i>Wounded Australian.</i> "<span class="sc">We're Anzacs, Madam</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Dear Old Silly.</i> "<span class="sc">Really? How delightful! And do you both +belong to this same tribe</span>?"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>Another Impending Apology.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"Pigs.—<span class="sc">Live Stock Mem of Mark</span>. +No. 10.—Alderman ——."</p> + +<p><i>Live Stock Journal.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"God be with Lord Hardinge wherever he +may be, whatever may be his sphere of service, +for we fear we shall not look upon his like +again."</p> + +<p>"It is in this atmosphere of hope and confidence +that Lord Chelmsford takes up the +mantle of the Viceroyalty."—<i>Times of India.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Not for the first time the attempt to +welcome the coming and speed the +parting guest in the same breath has +failed to turn out quite happily.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Evidence was given that the pig, which +was introduced in a revue at the Metropolitan +Music Hall, was kept at the back of the stage +in a crate in which it could not turn or +stretch itself ... Mr. Paul Taylor said he +was glad the case had been ventilated."</p> + +<p><i>The Times.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>So, no doubt, was the pig.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page316" id="page316"></a>[pg 316]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/316.png"><img width="100%" src="images/316.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Instructor.</i> <span class="sc">"Gunnery, gentlemen, is an exact +mechanical science. Everything is done by rule——"</span></p> + +<p><i>Ex-Actor.</i> <span class="sc">"Then where does my personality come in, Sir?"</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>FASHION-PLATE PATRIOTS.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Since our ranks, Mr. <i>Punch</i>, you've seen fit to upbraid</p> +<p class="i2">(These lines are to show that you're hard on us),</p> +<p>When you hear the defence of the fashion-plate maid</p> +<p class="i2">I'm perfectly certain you'll pardon us;</p> +<p>Though our heels and our hose and our frills and our frocks,</p> +<p class="i2">Regardless of taste and expense,</p> +<p>Your notion of war-time economy shocks;</p> +<p class="i2">We're doing our bit, in a sense.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Now take, for example, Irene and me;</p> +<p class="i2">She's thin and I'm rather—voluminous;</p> +<p>Our skirts, full and frilly, just cover the knee,</p> +<p class="i2">And our hose-play discourages gloominess;</p> +<p>We've a bent for a boot with a soul-stirring spat,</p> +<p class="i2">Gilt-buttoned and stubbily toed,</p> +<p>And a top-gallant plume on a tip-tilted hat</p> +<p class="i2">When we're ripe for the Park and the road.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The public each week, Mr. <i>Punch</i>, you impress</p> +<p class="i2">With your cool-headed wit and ability,</p> +<p>So I wonder you've not had the gumption to guess</p> +<p class="i2">There's method in our imbecility;</p> +<p>Read on, and your premature chiding deplore,</p> +<p class="i2">For our merciful mission, in brief,</p> +<p>Is to brighten the tragical drama of war</p> +<p class="i2">By providing the comic relief.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>If I were like a man I know and <i>Billing</i> were my name,</p> +<p>I wouldn't waste my precious time in striving after fame;</p> +<p>I'd let it come to me unsought, unstruggled for, and then</p> +<p>I'd just go on existing as a perfect specimen.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>No care would line my marble brow; I'd take no thought of pelf;</p> +<p>I'd lie the long day through at ease a-thinking of myself;</p> +<p>For when a man's mere presence lends to any scene delight</p> +<p>He needn't worry what he does—whate'er he does is right.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>If I could bloom as blooms the rose, and <span class="sc">Billing</span> were a bee,</p> +<p>With all my pink and petalled force I'd coax him unto me;</p> +<p>I'd open out my honeyed store, and he might linger on,</p> +<p>Or cut and cut and come again until the whole were gone.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Such heaps of charm our <span class="sc">Billing</span> has, such tons of <i>savoir faire</i>,</p> +<p>It irks me much to see him spend his treasures on the air;</p> +<p>And, still to hint a further fault, he cultivates the pose</p> +<p>Of knowing all of everything, and lets you know he knows.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +Reproductions of Mr. Punch's picture "Haven" are to be +sold for the benefit of the Star and Garter Building Fund, +and may be obtained from the Secretary of the Fund, at +21, Old Bond Street, W. They are to be had in two sizes, +at <i>2s. 6d.</i> and <i>1s.</i>, or, with Postage and Packing, <i>2s. 10d.</i> +and <i>1s. 2d.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page317" id="page317"></a>[pg 317]</span> + +<h2>THE LUCKIEST MAN.</h2> + +<p>We were talking, the other night, +about lucky people. Barmer declared +that he knew the man (of whom we +had all of us heard) who was left a +large fortune by an eccentric old gentleman +whose hat he had picked up on +a windy day at Brighton. A better +and more original contribution to +the discussion was that of Bastable, +a retired Anglo-Indian. I give it as +nearly as I can in his own words. +"The luckiest man I ever met," he +said, "is my groom-gardener, Andrews. +I don't mean to say in respect of prosperity +or health, for he is a delicate +man, and I can only afford to give +him a modest wage. But he has a +charmed life, as you will admit when +you hear of his three escapes.</p> + +<p>"Number 1 was when he was employed +in repairing the roof of one of +the big London stations. He was +slung up in a cradle when he lost +his balance and fell to the ground—a +distance of about 80 feet. The odds +were about a million to one that he +would be killed, but he managed to +light on precisely the one spot in the +whole station area which secured him +a soft fall—a barrel of butter which +was standing on the platform, and from +which, for some reason or other, the +lid had been removed. The butter +was ruined, but Andrews escaped with +a bad shaking. I believe the butter-merchant +brought an action against +the Company, but I forget what happened.</p> + +<p>"Number 2 grew out of Andrews's +weakness for parrots. He had bought +a parrot from a sailor, who told him +that the best way to teach it to speak +was to hang the cage in a well and +repeat the words or phrases to it at +3 <span class="sc">A.M.</span> in the morning, so as to secure +the greatest freedom from disturbance. +Andrews was then employed in a brewery +at Watford, and lived in a cottage +with a strip of garden at the back. +There was also a well, so that he could +carry out the sailor's instructions on +the spot. The cage, which was a large +one and nearly filled the well, was +made fast to the bucket apparatus, and +the first two lessons passed off without +any incident. But on the third night, +when Andrews was hard at work, he +was hailed by a policeman, who came +along the lane at the side of the garden—it +was an end house—and asked him +what he was doing. When Andrews said +that he was teaching his parrot to talk, +the policeman, naturally suspecting that +he was there for some felonious purpose, +climbed over the wall and made +a grab at him. It was a dark night, +and, in trying to dodge the policeman, +Andrews stepped into the well, which, +according to his account, was ninety +feet deep. But, as good luck would +have it, he got jammed between the +cage and the side of the well, and remained +hung up until the policeman +hauled him out with the aid of the +bucket rope. He was badly bruised, +but got all right in a few days.</p> + +<p>"Andrews's third and last escape +was in the War. He was a reservist, +went out early, saw a lot of fighting +and came through without a scratch +till last November, when his trench +was rushed and he was taken prisoner. +The front trenches at that point were +only about forty yards apart, and before +he was removed to the rear a British +shell lit close to him and blew him +back into his own lines. He was badly +hurt and, after some months in hospital, +was invalided out of the Army, +but manages to do the light work I +want all right."</p> + +<p>We all subscribed to Bastable's view +of Andrews's luck—all at least except +Barmer, who was a little nettled at +having his story eclipsed. "I can believe +the yarn about the shell," he said, +"but the butter story is a bit thick, and +all tales about parrots are suspect."</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/317.png"><img width="100%" src="images/317.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Bus Conductor.</i> "<span class="sc">Blimy! We <i>do</i> want an +Air Minister, and no mistake, with things like you floatin' abaht in the +sky</span>."</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>Toujours la Politesse.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"The officer and a man ran in and respectfully +shot with a revolver and bayoneted two +other men each."—<i>Englishman (Calcutta).</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Washington, Monday.</p> + +<p>A representative from Mr. Gerard on his +visit to the Kaiser at Headquarters has been +received at the State Department, and is now +being decoded."—<i>Manchester Daily Dispatch.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We cannot believe that any American +diplomatist could be a mere cipher.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page318" id="page318"></a>[pg 318]</span> + +<h2>MEDICALLY UNFIT.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">For weight of years some men must stay</p> +<p class="i4">And some must pause for lack,</p> +<p class="i2">And some there are would be away</p> +<p class="i4">But duty holds them back,</p> +<p>Driving the jobs at home that must be done</p> +<p class="i6">To smash the Hun.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">And others, whether old or young,</p> +<p class="i4">Refuse to wait behind;</p> +<p class="i2">And some with scarcely half a lung</p> +<p class="i4">Have found the doctors kind;</p> +<p>Yet never once did any listen to my tick</p> +<p class="i6">But barred me quick.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">And some whose place should be the van</p> +<p class="i4">Are doing nothing much;</p> +<p class="i2">By all the blood that beats in Man</p> +<p class="i4">I would that any such</p> +<p>Could loan me, while he plays the skulker's part,</p> +<p class="i6">His coward heart.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A JUST MAN.</h2> + +<p>There were four on each side. At +the last moment a short round man +came running up and got in. Hurry +had not improved his mood, and one +glance of his eye was enough to make +me move along two inches to give him +room. He stood arranging his luggage +on the rack, pulled his coat straight, +and sat down—on the other side. The +suddenness of his assault was terrific. +I quickly recovered my two inches, and +the journey to the next station was +quite pleasant, so far as I was concerned.</p> + +<p>He and I were then left alone.</p> + +<p>"I am much obliged to you for +moving to make room for me, Sir," he +said politely. "But when I get into +a compartment with four a side I make +it a practice to sit down on the side +on which nobody has moved—on +principle, Sir, on principle."</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>Very Still Life.</h3> + +<p>From a notice of Mr. <span class="sc">Brangwyn's</span> +Academy picture, "The Poulterer's +Shop":—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"Everything lies in its place as if it had +been there for centuries."—<i>Morning Post.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A Sinecure.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"<span class="sc">General</span>; £20; fam 2; every Sunday +and wk-day off."—<i>Daily Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The rebels barricaded St. Stephen's Green +with motor-cars and tramcars, as in the French +Revolution."—<i>Northampton Chronicle.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>The 1789 models of motor-cars and +tramcars are of course out of date by +now.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> + +<h3>"Pen."</h3> + +<p>During one of the intervals which +served so well to eke out the brief two +hours of Mr. <span class="sc">Vachell's</span> new "comedy," +and were quite as good as many things +in the play, I allowed my mind—an +absolute blank—to dwell upon certain +arresting features in the stage curtain +of the St. James's Theatre. In the +centre, imposed upon a design whose +significance I do not pretend to penetrate, +is a gigantic wreath encircling a +monogram of the magic initials, G. A., +which are surmounted by something +which I took to be an heraldic top-hat. +This headpiece is in turn surmounted +by an heraldic eagle—the ordinary +arrangement by which the helmet appears +above the coat-of-arms being thus +reversed. The central design is flanked +on each side by two other wreaths, +massive but subordinate. Within the +sinister wreath is enshrined in Greek +capitals the letters ALEX, and within +the dexter wreath the letters ANDROS. +"Reading from left to right" we have +here the historic name of the Macedonian +monarch.</p> + +<p>I cannot account for the Greek form +of the name on the ground that the +St. James's Theatre is the home of the +Classical Drama, for the themes of its +plays seldom go back beyond the later +decades of the 19th century A.D., and +I can only conclude that it is meant +to indicate that the conquests of Sir +<span class="sc">George Alexander's</span> company resemble +those of the famous phalanx of his +namesake, the Great.</p> + +<p>Most theatres have an atmosphere +of their own, and it would be hard to +recall any play at the St. James's that +has been less in keeping with the local +climate than this comedy, so described, +of Mr. <span class="sc">Vachell's</span>. On the score of impropriety +and improbability it might +in the old days have appealed to the +Criterion management; but its lack of +broad humour must have negatived these +advantages. In any case Sir <span class="sc">George +Alexander's</span> house was no place for a +farce so out of harmony with Macedonian +methods.</p> + +<p>Almost its solitary interest lay in +the doubt, maintained to the last +moment, as to which of its many +fatuous males would turn out to be +the hero—meaning by hero the chosen +husband of the heroine, for none of +them had any personal claim to the +title. Indeed, the choice ultimately +fell upon the one that had the least +distinctive personality of all, his disguise +being kept up by a kind of +protective colourlessness.</p> + +<p>But for Miss <span class="sc">Ellis Jeffreys</span>, who +played the aunt of the preposterous +<i>Lady Pen</i> with a courage worthy of a +better cause, and extracted from the +play such humour as it held for her, +matters would have gone badly for +those of us who have been accustomed +to look to Mr. <span class="sc">Vachell</span> for entertainment. +Mr. <span class="sc">Allan Aynesworth</span>, as the +heroine's guardian, had no difficulty in +transmitting pleasantly enough his mild +share of the fun. Miss <span class="sc">Marie Hemingway</span> +needed all her prettiness to make +up for the futility of her part. And I +was really sorry that so sound an +actor as Mr. <span class="sc">Dawson Milward</span> should +have had such ineffective stuff put into +his mouth.</p> + +<p>Far the funniest thing about the play +was the fact that so clever and experienced +a writer should have made it. +Perhaps the compliments I have paid +to my friend Mr. <span class="sc">Vachell</span> in these +columns have given me the right to +beg him not to take advantage of his +many recent successes and palm off on +the public just any kind of banality, +For these are days when pens (with or +without a big P) must be pretty good if +they are to compete with the sword.</p> + +<p>With this appeal (and with a silent +prayer that the play may not come by +a natural death in time for my homily +to serve as a funeral appreciation) I +hasten to conclude, hoping that it will +find, him in the pink (as they say) +of a blushful remorse; and, anyhow, I +remain, His sincerely, O. S.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>NURSERY RHYMES OF LONDON TOWN.</h2> + +<h3>XI.—Saint John's Wood.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Saint John walked in a Wood</p> +<p class="i2">Where elm-trees spread their branches</p> +<p>And Squirrels climbed and Pigeons cooed.</p> +<p class="i2">And Hares sat on their haunches.</p> +<p>He built him willow huts</p> +<p class="i2">Wherever he might settle;</p> +<p>His meat was chiefly hazel-nuts,</p> +<p class="i2">His drink the honey-nettle.</p> +<p>His Wood that grew so green</p> +<p class="i2">Is now as grey as stone;</p> +<p>His Wood may any day be seen,</p> +<p class="i2">But where's the good Saint John?</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"On all faces was the defiant scowl of hatred +as we looked at them."—<i>Daily Chronicle.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>What had our genial contemporary +done to deserve this?</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Turkish newspapers received in Copenhagen +contain long lists of names of prominent +Arabs who have been hanged for treason or +for absenting themselves from military service. +Overleaf is another list of well-known Arabs +living in Great Britain and the British Colonies, +who are cordially invited to return without +delay."—<i>Morning Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Dilly ducks, dilly ducks, come and be +killed.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page319" id="page319"></a>[pg 319]</span> + +<h3>JUSTIFICATION.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/319.png"><img width="100%" src="images/319.png" alt=""/></a><p><i>Wife.</i> <span class="sc">"Two bottles of ginger-beer, dear?"</span>"</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> <span class="sc">"Why, yes. Have you forgotten that this is the +anniversary of our wedding-day?"</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<h3>(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.)</h3> + +<p>It is pleasant to find that even in these days the revival +of interest in volumes of short stories still continues. But +of course the stories must have a certain quality. I am +glad to think that <i>Traveller's Samples</i> (<span class="sc">Mills and Boon</span>) +will help forward the movement. Mrs. <span class="sc">Henry Dudeney</span> +has a quite excellent touch for this sort of thing; her tales +are both atmospheric and, for their length, astonishingly +full of character. Also she has an engaging habit of avoiding +the expected. Take one of the best in this present +book, called "<i>John</i>," for instance. It is the slightest possible +thing, just a picture of a schoolboy's hopeless love for a +shallow cruel-brained girl eight years older than himself, +who is in process of getting engaged to an eligible bachelor. +But every figure in the little group lives. And the second +part, which tells the return of the boy-lover twelve years +later, shows you what I mean about Mrs. <span class="sc">Dudeney's</span> +refreshing originality. I doubt if there are many writers +who would have finished off the story in her very satisfactory +way. There is one quality characteristic of most +of the tales—a feeling for middle-age in men and women; +many of them seem to be variations upon the same theme +of a love that comes by waiting. Mrs. <span class="sc">Dudeney</span> can +handle this situation with unfailing charm. Her confessed +comedies are by far the weakest things in the book; there +is one of them indeed that seemed to me amazingly pointless. +But with this exception I can commend her volume +whole-heartedly, and only hope that the author will continue +to send out goods of such excellent workmanship, +"as per" (whatever that means) these attractive samples.</p> + +<p>Those who search for minor compensations have affected +to find one in the idea that the actual happening of the +World War has removed from us the old fictional scares, +novels of German super-spies, and unsuspecting islanders +taken unprepared. But to think this is to reckon without +the ingenuity of such writers as Mr. <span class="sc">Ridgwell Cullum</span>. +He, for example, has but to postulate that worst nightmare +of all, an inconclusive peace, and we are back in the former +terrors, blacker than ever. Suppose the Polish inventor of +German undersea craft to have been so stricken with +remorse at the frightful results thereof that he determines +to hand all his secrets to the English Government, in the +person of a young gentleman who combines the positions +of Cabinet Minister, son and heir to a great shipbuilder, +and hero of the story; suppose, moreover, that the said +inventor was blessed with an only daughter, of radiant +beauty and the rather conspicuous name of <i>Vita Vladimir</i>; +suppose the inevitable romance, a secret submarine expedition +to the island where Germany is maturing her felonious +little plans, the destruction of the latest frightfulness, +retaliation by Prussian myrmidons, abductions, murders, +and I don't know what besides—and you will have some +faint idea of the tumultuous episodes of <i>The Men Who +Wrought</i> (<span class="sc">Chapman and Hall</span>). To say that the story +moves is vastly to understate its headlong rapidity of +action. And, while I hardly fancy that the characters +themselves will carry overwhelming conviction, there +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page320" id="page320"></a>[pg 320]</span> +remains, in the theory of the submersible liner and +application to political facts, enough genuine wisdom to lift +the tale out of the company of six-shilling shockers. To +this extent at least <i>The Men Who Wrought</i> combines +instruction with entertainment.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>Inter-Arma</i> (<span class="sc">Heinemann</span>) is the title that Mr. <span class="sc">Edmund +Gosse</span> has given to his latest volume of essays, reprinted +from <i>The Edinburgh Review</i>. No one who loves clarity of +style will need assurance about the quality of these studies, +which, with one exception, are concerned with some or other +aspect of the world-struggle. In "War and Literature," +a paper dated during the black days of October, 1914, the +author attempts to realise what will be the probable literary +effect of the catastrophe by recounting the various ways +in which French writers suffered from that of 1870. An +interesting prediction, too, as recalling what many of us +believed at the beginning of the war, is this about the +future of English letters: "What we must really face is +the fact that this harvest of volumes [the autumn publishings +of 1914] will mark +the end of what is called +'current literature' for the +remaining duration of the +war. There can be no aftermath, +we can aspire to no +revival. The book which does +not deal directly and crudely +with the complexities of warfare +and the various branches +of strategy will, from Christmas +onwards, not be published +at all." As they stand, these +words might well serve as a +mild tonic for "current pessimism"; +not even the paper +famine has brought them to +fulfilment. Elsewhere in the +volume is an instructive +paper on "The Neutrality of +Sweden" (valuable but vexatious, +as are all the indictments +of our insular apathy +in the matter of influencing +foreign opinion), and two or +three interesting studies of +French life and letters under the conditions of war. In +fine, a book full of scholarly grace, such as may well achieve +the writer's hope, expressed in his preface, of renewing the +friendship he has already made with those readers "whose +minds have become attuned to his," though they are now +"separated from him by leagues of sea and occupied in +noble and unprecedented service."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The author of <i>The Dop Doctor</i>, with her expansive style, +always seems cramped in any story of under a couple of +hundred thousand words or so. Perhaps the best things +in her new book of short stories, <i>Earth to Earth</i> (<span class="sc">Heinemann</span>), +concern <i>The Macwaugh</i>, a shocking bad artist with an +immense thirst and the heftiest of Scotch accents. I don't +think that there ever was or could be anybody like <i>Macwaugh</i>, +or indeed that people talk or act like the majority +of the characters in this book; but that's where, perhaps, +"<span class="sc">Richard Dehan</span>" scores a point or two off those realists +who mistake accuracy of detail for art. This amiable +drunkard, though absurd, lives and moves. The author is +evidently attached to him, and that helps. She has, indeed, +something of the Dickensian exuberance which carries off +absurdities and crudities that would otherwise be intolerably +tiresome. She even seems to get some fun out of this +kind of thing:—"'Write,' commanded the Zanouka with a +double-barrelled flash of her great eyes;" or, again, "It's all +poppycock and bumblepuppy," meaning, just, it isn't true.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>If you are writing or intending to write a book about +boys let me beg you not to follow the prevailing fashion +and call your hero David. Within the last few weeks I have +read <span class="sc">David Penstephen, David Blaise</span>, and now it is Miss +<span class="sc">Eleanor Porter's</span> <i>Just David</i> (<span class="sc">Constable</span>) and I am +beginning to want a rest from the name. <i>David III.</i>, if he +may be called so, has saved me from utter confusion of +mind by being an American product and having a charm +that is peculiarly his own. Cynics indeed may find his perfection +a little cloying, and may say with some justification +that no human child ever radiated so much joy and happiness. +All the same, this simple tale of childhood will +appeal irresistibly to those who do not draw too fine a +distinction between sentiment and sentimentality. On the +whole Miss <span class="sc">Porter</span>, although hovering near the border, +does not pass into the swamps +of sloppiness, and as an antidote +to War fiction I can recommend +<i>Just David</i> without +any further qualification.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Richard Harding Davis</span> +will, alas, entertain us no +more with his easy-flowing +pen. These short stories, +<i>Somewhere in France</i> (<span class="sc">Duckworth</span>), +must be his farewell +to us. And it is good to feel +that his sympathies are so +whole-heartedly on the right +side. The first of the stories +(the only one that has anything +to do with the War) is a +spirited yarn of the turning of +the tables on a German secret +service agent, with plenty +of atmosphere and hurrying +action. The rest are light +studies of American life, of +which I chiefly commend an +extravaganza set in Hayti with +a resourceful Yankee electrician, as hero, in conflict with +the President in the matter of overdue wages; and the +final item of a tussle between a stern and upright District +Attorney and the might of Tammany, in which the author +seems to have a rather whimsical mistrust of both sides. I +always like to think of Tammany when our croakers are +holding up everything in this poor little island to obloquy.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>The God in the Car.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"Rumania asked permission for the passage through Bulgaria of +several wagons of grain bought from Greece. Bulgaria agreed on +condition that Rumania should release over 200 wagons of Bulgarian +gods detained in Rumania." +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"An extract of squills, which has been used by the French Government +in the trenches for two or three months, is to be used in a +Berwickshire County Council experiment to exterminate rates."</p> + +<p><i>Provincial Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We should like to hear of something equally deadly to taxes.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Miss Ruby Miller is in gorgeous green, to match her gorgeous +red hair."—<i>Sunday Pictorial.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>It is perhaps just as well that some people, notably +engine-drivers, do not see things in this way.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/320.png"><img width="100%" src="images/320.png" alt="" /></a><p> +<i>Chauffeur (ex-coachman, to master, who has been influenced by +economy posters).</i> <span class="sc">"A run or two now and again, Sir, would +be good for the car. You see, if I might so express it, +she's just eating her bonnet off."</span></p></div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 150, MAY 10, 1916***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 22992-h.txt or 22992-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/9/9/22992">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/9/9/22992</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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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