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diff --git a/23726-h/23726-h.htm b/23726-h/23726-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c131446 --- /dev/null +++ b/23726-h/23726-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3208 @@ +<!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=utf-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 146, March 11, 1914, 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;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .wide {margin-left: 3.9em;} + .wid {margin-left: 2.5em;} + .widd {margin-left: 1.5em;} + .widdd {margin-left: .5em;} + .wider {margin-left: 16em;} + + 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;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 86%; text-align: right;} + + 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.i3 {margin-left: 1.5em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} +.poem p.i12 { + margin-left: 6em +} +.poem p.i18 { + margin-left: 9em +} + .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;} + + .bnote {border: solid 1px; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%;padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .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;} + +sup, sub {line-height: .2em;} + frac {font-size: 7em;} + +td { + font-size: 0.9em; + text-align: center; + padding: 1em; +} + +td.left { + font-size: 0.9em; + text-align: left; + padding: 1em; +} + p.author {text-align: right;} + 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. 146, +March 11, 1914, 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. 146, March 11, 1914</p> +<p>Author: Various</p> +<p>Editor: Owen Seaman</p> +<p>Release Date: December 3, 2007 [eBook #23726]</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. 146, MARCH 11, 1914***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Matt Whittaker, Malcolm Farmer,<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. 146.</h2> + + +<h2>March 11, 1914.</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page181" id="page181"></a>[pg 181]</span><div class="figright" style="width:55%;"><a href="images/181.png"><img width="100%" src="images/181.png" alt="" /></a><p><i>Curate</i> (<i>forte</i>). "... <span class="sc">to have-and-to-hold</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Bridegroom</i> (<i>deaf</i>). "<span class="sc">Eh?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Curate</i> (<i>fortissimo</i>). "TO—HAVE—AND—TO—HOLD."</p> + +<p><i>Bridegroom.</i> "<span class="sc">To 'ave and to 'old</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Curate.</i> "FROM—THIS—DAY—FORWARD."</p> + +<p><i>Bridegroom.</i> "<span class="sc">Till this day fortnight</span>!"</p></div> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p>A contemporary describes one of +the deported Nine as the Brain of the +party. This is a distinction which just +eluded Mr. <span class="sc">Bain</span>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Admiralty has decided that, in +the place of the grand manœuvres this +year, there shall be a surprise mobilisation. +Last year's manœuvres were, we +believe, something of a fiasco, but to +ensure the success of the surprise mobilisation +five months' previous notice is +given.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"Every man," says the Bishop of +<span class="sc">London</span>, "must be his own Columbus +and find the continent of truth." This +is the first time that we had heard +America called the continent of truth, +and one wonders where the present +fashion of flattery is going to end.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>We read that a Russian writer +named <span class="sc">Lunatcharsky</span> has been expelled +from Germany. Is it possible that he +is a relative of Mr. <span class="sc">Max Beerbohm's</span> +friend Kolniyatchi?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>At the Grand Military Meeting at +Sandown Park, two young millionaires +figured as amateur jockeys. We understand +now the meaning of the expression +"putting money on a horse."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"Futurist frocks," we are told, were +a feature of the Chelsea Arts Club ball. +Just as in these days "Fancy Dress" +often seems to mean that the dress is +left to the fancy, Futurist frocks, we +presume, are frocks that may appear +in the future.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>An American journalist has been +pointing out how London lags behind +other great cities in the matter of shop-window +dressing. There would seem +to be no limit to our decadence. Even +our shop-windows are inadequately +clothed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A meeting has been held at Kingston +to consider the possibility of providing +"some counter attraction" for the +young people who frequent the streets +on Sunday evenings. Seeing that most +of them are at the counter during the +week—you catch the idea?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"Monkey nuts are dangerous," said +Dr. <span class="sc">Round</span> at an inquest last week. +Judging by the mild-looking specimens +one sees walking about in the streets +appearances are certainly deceptive.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A contemporary, by the way, propounds +the question: Why does the +"nut" always wear his headgear on +the back of his head? This custom is +certainly queer, for, if he really cared +about his personal appearance, he +would wear the hat over his face.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>We regret to learn that an attempt +to teach a modern Office Boy manners +has failed. A friend of ours met his +Office Boy in the street, and the lad +merely nodded to him. To shame him +the Master raised his hat with mock +solemnity, at which the lad said, +"That's all right, but you needn't do +it."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The fashion, which originated on the +Continent, of having the face and neck +painted with miniature works of art is +reported to be spreading to London. +And the practical Americans are said +to be considering a further development +in the form of advertisements on the +face by means of neat inscriptions, such +as "Complexion by Rouge et Cie," +"Teeth by Max Gumberg," and +"Dimples excavated by the American +Face Mining Co."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"England," says General <span class="sc">Carranza</span>, +"is the world's bully." The General +must please have patience with us, for +there are signs that we are improving. +In the same issue of the evening paper +which reported this dictum of his +the following announcement appeared +under the heading "<span class="sc">Latest News</span>":—"There +were no bullion operations reported +at the Bank of England to-day."</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page182" id="page182"></a>[pg 182]</span><h2>BYLES FOR THE BILL.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>[In a letter addressed to <i>The Times</i>, headed "<span class="sc">Pass the Bill and +Take the Consequences</span>," Sir <span class="sc">William Byles</span> makes the statement:—"I +for one will take the risk without hesitation."]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Darkling I sing. Ere Tuesday's hour for tea</p> +<p class="i2">Shall set this doggerel in the glare of day,</p> +<p>He who adjured us still to "wait and see,"</p> +<p class="i2">He will have tweaked the mystic veil away,</p> +<p>And you will know—whatever it may be.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>You, but not I; for I have yet to wait.</p> +<p class="i2">Far South, beneath (I hope) a stainless sky</p> +<p>The pregnant news shall find me, rather late,</p> +<p class="i2">Powerless to watch the ball with steadfast eye</p> +<p>Through sheer distraction as to Ulster's fate.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Fain would I have upon my well-pricked ear</p> +<p class="i2">Such tidings fall as prove that party pride</p> +<p>Yields with a mutual grace. And yet I fear</p> +<p class="i2">These desperadoes on the Liberal side—</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bill Byles</span> (for one), the Bradford Buccaneer.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"Pass"—so he boldly writes—"the Bill and take</p> +<p class="i2">(His conscience will not let him run to "damn")</p> +<p>"The Consequences." That is why I shake</p> +<p class="i2">Even as when the shorn and shivering lamb</p> +<p>Observes the wolf advancing in his wake.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>I see him bear, this dreadful man of gore,</p> +<p class="i2">A brace of battleaxes at the slope;</p> +<p>I see him fling his gauntlet on the floor,</p> +<p class="i2">And (shouting, "<span class="sc">Byles</span> for <span class="sc">Redmond</span> and the <span class="sc">Pope</span>!")</p> +<p>Let loose the Nonconformist Dogs of War.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Ah! take and hide me in some hollow lair,</p> +<p class="i2">Red hills of Var! and ye umbrella-pines,</p> +<p>Cover me like a gamp! I cannot bear</p> +<p class="i2">This Apparition with its armed lines</p> +<p>Humming the strain, "<i>Sir <span class="sc">Byles</span> s'en va-t-en guerre</i>."</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p><i>March 7.</i></p> +<p>O. S.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE END OF IT ALL.</h2> + +<p>It was the opening of the new Parliament of 1919 <span class="sc">a.d.</span></p> + +<p>They had got IT.</p> + +<p>If you can't guess what they had got you must be obtuse.</p> + +<p>The great procession of Women M.P.'s formed in Trafalgar +Square. Behind them were the ruins of the National +Gallery (the work of the immortal Miss Podgers, B.Sc.); +before them were the fragments of the Nelson Column +(Miss Tunk's world-famous feat).</p> + +<p>The free fight concerning the leadership of the procession +was settled by the intervention of mounted police. They +decided that all the would-be leaders should march abreast +with two armed policemen between each pair of them to +prevent casualties by the way. So the head of the procession +started off sixty abreast down Whitehall.</p> + +<p>It was a magnificent spectacle. All the M.P.'s wore +green-and-white wigs because it was the fashion, and in +addition green-and-white whiskers to assert their equality +with men. Each processionist carried a model of her +greatest work. There was Mrs. Spankham with a superb +model of Westminster Abbey—its petrolling had been the +greatest stroke in convincing the voters of the pure motives +of the feminists. Miss Sylvia Spankham bore aloft the +City Temple, Miss Christabel Spankham the Albert Hall, +whilst Mrs. Lawrence Pothook waved triumphantly a lovely +representation of King's Cross Station. Magnificent too +was Mrs. Drummit riding astride a fire-engine as an emblem +of peace and goodwill.</p> + +<p>The crowd viewed the procession with awed silence, only +breaking into cheers when Miss Blithers, blushing modestly, +held up a cardboard representation of the Albert Memorial +she had nitro-glycerined. Miss Bliggs marched triumphantly +in a bishop's mitre bearing a pastoral staff, in recognition +of her great feat in forcibly feeding a wicked bishop +who had written a letter to the Press against forcible, +feeding. Misunderstood by the crowd was Mrs. Trudge, +who wheeled a perambulator containing two babies. The +onlookers thought that Mrs. Trudge was about to take her +innocent offspring to the House of Commons, and those +out of hat-pin range murmured, "Shime," "Give the kids +a chawnce." They did not know that Mrs. Trudge was +no base slave of man, that she had no children of her own, +and that the wax babies she wheeled in the perambulator +merely indicated that she was the heroine who had doped a +nursemaid with drugged chocolate and abducted a Cabinet +Minister's twins.</p> + +<p>Unhappily Miss Bolland also passed unidentified, though +she held a cardboard tube aloft. Not even a taxi-driver +cheered as the intrepid lady passed who had blown up the +electrical-generation station of the Tubes and made London +walk for a month. There too was Mrs. Tibbs, brave in her +misfortunes. She had missed her election by one vote just +because, when she came to the booth to vote for herself, +lifelong habit had been too strong for her and she had +phosphorused the ballot box.</p> + +<p>An unfortunate breeze from the river played havoc with +the processionists' whiskers, and one or two of the weaker +spirits in the ranks argued that some of the Government +offices in Whitehall ought to have been left standing for +protection—at any rate till the procession was over.</p> + +<p>On they went, each of the twenty leaders in front explaining +how <span class="sc">she</span> had led the movement to triumph. On the +top of the fire-engine Mrs. Drummit danced a futurist dance, +symbolic of the subjection of man. At last they reached +the portals of the House. The leaders broke into a run to +secure front places on the Government benches.</p> + +<p>"Stop," cried a police superintendent, rushing from the +building.</p> + +<p>"The days of man's tyranny are over!" shouted twenty +voices together.</p> + +<p>"Maybe," said the police superintendent, "but some of +'em are catching up to you. They've dynamited the Houses +of Parliament, and if you go inside you'll pop like roasted +chestnuts."</p> + +<p>And as they watched the flame the leaders realised the +sad fact that they had not left a building standing in London +roomy enough for a Parliament.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Commercial Candour.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>"—— Tooth Brushes are so constructed that the bristles get +right into the smallest crevices of the teeth. Moreover the bristles +positively won't come out."—<i>Advt. in "London Opinion."</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>That has sometimes been our bitter experience.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>The Choir Inaudible.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>"The chorus gave ample evidence of having made great strides +since their last appearance in public, all the items for which they +were responsible being well sustained and rendered in first-class style. +Special mention should be made, however, of their rendering of 'A +Spring Song,' which was given in quite a professional manner, the +chorus dispensing with both music and words, and the audience +evinced their appreciation of this really fine effort by long continued +applause, to which the chorus responded by repeating it."</p> + +<p><i>Avalon Independent.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>There would probably be no words to the applause and very +little music; so the chorus could easily repeat it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page183" id="page183"></a>[pg 183]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:45%;"><a href="images/183.png"><img width="100%" src="images/183.png" alt="" /></a><h3>GIFT FOR GIFT.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">General Botha.</span> "WELL, I SUPPOSE ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER; WE MUST +GIVE HIM A WARM RECEPTION."</p></div> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page184" id="page184"></a>[pg 184]</span><hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page185" id="page185"></a>[pg 185]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/185.png"><img width="100%" src="images/185.png" alt="" /></a><h3>THE BRUTE AGAIN.</h3> + +<p><i>Weary Hostess.</i> "<span class="sc">Yes, I've been having such trouble with baby. Every night I +have to get up about twenty times, getting his things——</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Visitor.</i> "<span class="sc">Why don't you make your husband do something?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Hostess.</i> "<span class="sc">Oh, I daren't wake my husband; if I do he always drinks baby's milk.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>STUDIES IN DISCIPLESHIP.</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc"><i>The Times'</i> Third Leader.</span></p> + +<p>The statement made in these columns +by a well-informed correspondent that +the incomparable <span class="sc">Nijinsky</span> is so delicate +that by his doctor's decree he is obliged +to abstain from all forms of exercise +save that involved in his beloved art, +gives us, in the vivid phrase of our +neighbours, "furiously to think." At +the first blush incredulity prevails, but +recourse to the annals of history, +ancient and modern alike, furnishes us +with abundant confirmation of this +strange anomaly. <span class="sc">Hannibal</span> was a +martyr to indigestion, while his great +rival, <span class="sc">Scipio Africanus</span>, suffered from +sea-sickness even when crossing the +Tiber. Wherever we look we are confronted +with the spectacle of genius +fraying its way to the appointed goal +in spite of physical drawbacks which +would have paralysed meritorious +mediocrity. <span class="sc">Wolfe</span> was a <i>poitrinaire</i>, +and <span class="sc">Nelson</span> would never have passed +the medical examination to which the +naval cadets of to-day are subjected. +But the case of <span class="sc">Nijinsky</span> is more tragic +because abstinence from skating and +riding, of which he was passionately +fond, entails greater anguish on so sensitively +organised a temperament than +it would on a mere man of action, and +the suffering of a great artist may lead +to international complications which +it is terrible to complicate. Russian +dancing is as necessary to the well-being +of our social system as standard +bread, yet when we think of the +sacrifices which its hierophants undergo +in order to minister to our pleasure +the sturdiest Hedonist cannot escape +misgivings. Still, we may find consolation +in the thought that sacrifice is +necessary to perfection. Such sacrifices +take various forms. In the case of +<span class="sc">Nijinsky</span> we see a man of immense +brain power specialising in a most exhausting +form of physical culture to +remedy his extreme delicacy. At the +opposite extreme we find cases of men +so extraordinarily powerful that they +are obliged to abandon all exercise and +lead a purely sedentary life in order to +counteract their abnormal muscularity. +Thus Lord <span class="sc">Haldane</span>, who in his earlier +days thought nothing of walking to +Cambridge one day and back to London +on the next, has now become more than +reconciled to the immobility imposed +on the occupant of the Woolsack.</p> + +<p>It needs no little exercise of the +imagination to form a mental picture +of Lord <span class="sc">Haldane</span> as a member of the +Russian ballet, or, to put it in a more +concrete form, making the famous +flying exit in <i>Le Spectre da la Rose</i>. +Could fancy be translated into fact, the +drawing power of such a spectacle +would be prodigious. On the other +hand, and in view of the notorious +adaptability of the Slavonic temperament, +we can well imagine <span class="sc">Nijinsky</span> +proving an admirable Lord Chancellor. +Exchanges of this sort would add to +the comity of nations besides enhancing +the amenities of public life, and it is +perhaps not too much to hope that +provision for carrying this out may be +in the Government's scheme for the +Reform of the House of Lords.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"New Zealand mutton was yearly increasing +in public flavour."—<i>Times.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>It mustn't get too powerful.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>From an advertisement of a land sale +in <i>Ceylon Morning Leader</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"An undivided <span class="frac"><sup>1</sup>/<sub>3</sub></span> + <span class="frac"><sup>1</sup>/<sub>36</sub></span> + <span class="frac"><sup>1</sup>/<sub>2</sub></span> of <span class="frac"><sup>3</sup>/<sub>80</sub></span> + <span class="frac"><sup>1</sup>/<sub>24</sub></span> + <span class="frac"><sup>1</sup>/<sub>2</sub></span> +of <span class="frac"><sup>1</sup>/<sub>18</sub></span> parts of the land called Vitarmalage +Gamwasama at Yatawala in extent 500 +amunams paddy sowing."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A chance for a newly-created peer who +wants a family seat from which to take +his title and quarterings.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The meeting of <span class="sc">Antony</span> and <span class="sc">Cleopatra</span> +as described in <span class="sc">Hutchinson's</span> +<i>History of the Nations</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"When they met first he was twenty-nine +and she was sixteen; now he was forty-two +and she was twenty-seven."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Anyhow she would say so.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page186" id="page186"></a>[pg 186]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:75%;"><a href="images/186.png"><img width="100%" src="images/186.png" alt="" /></a><p class="center"><i>Kind Old Gentleman.</i> "<span class="sc">What a delightful little pet! I have +always a soft place for animals.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A LOST LEADER.</h2> + +<p>"Enid," I said, "we must offer something +to somebody."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean Squawks?" she +pleaded piteously.</p> + +<p>"I wish I did," I sighed. Squawks +is a Pomorachshund—at least I think +so; though Enid inclines towards the +Chowkingese theory. Anyhow, he himself +has always realised that someone +had blundered, and has worked steadily +to make a dog of himself.</p> + +<p>"Well, if it's not Squawks, I don't +care," remarked Enid.</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd take some interest."</p> + +<p>"What in?"</p> + +<p>"In what I say."</p> + +<p>"What <i>did</i> you say?"</p> + +<p>"We must," I repeated, "offer something +to somebody."</p> + +<p>"That's not very enthusey. Unless"—and +her whole face +brightened—"you mean +what you call your reading-chair. +It threw me on to +the floor and knelt on me +only yesterday; and I know +Aunt Anne——"</p> + +<p>"Enid," I said sternly, +"that's not the point."</p> + +<p>"I was afraid not."</p> + +<p>"The thing is, one must +be in the swim. Everybody +is offering things right and +left now. Look at <span class="sc">Sutherland, +Derby</span>—even <span class="sc">Lloyd +George</span>."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know they were +friends of yours."</p> + +<p>"Not exactly; but——"</p> + +<p>"Then why so familiar?"</p> + +<p>"My dear," I explained, "that <i>is</i> the +point. Once get your name in the +papers at the end of a two-column +letter and you are the friend of all the +world—it gives one an <i>entrée</i> to the +castle of the Duke and the cottage of +the crofter."</p> + +<p>"Even before you've written it?"</p> + +<p>"I have written it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how splendid! Where?"</p> + +<p>"In here," I said, tapping the best +bit of my head.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>that</i>!" And then, pensively: +"Next time Mary Jane has a brainstorm, +I'll tell her to call you 'Charley.' +Poor girl!"</p> + +<p>"I don't think you quite appreciate," +I remarked.</p> + +<p>"I don't. What exactly do we stand +to gain?"</p> + +<p>"There's the rub. Not lucre. +Perish the thought! But one begins +to be a power, an influence. People +whisper in the Tube, 'Who's that?' +'<i>That!</i> Don't you know? Why +Him—He! The man who is making +the Government a laughing-stock. +The man who holds the Empire in +the palm of his hand. The man +who——'"</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said Enid. "We had +better buy a gramophone. I thought +you were getting fidgety at home."</p> + +<p>"Dearest," I explained, "it is not +that. It is because I feel in me a +spirit that will not be denied. Give +me the opportunity and I will make +this land, this England——"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Squawks. Was'ms frightened +then, poor darling!"</p> + +<p>"That dog——"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Enid to me. "How +are you going to begin?"</p> + +<p>"It is quite simple. Somebody writes +something to the papers."</p> + +<p>"Yes; so far it sounds easy."</p> + +<p>"Now that something is hideously +disparaging to my class and calling. +I promptly answer him."</p> + +<p>"That is, if you can be funnier at +his expense than he at yours."</p> + +<p>"I shan't be funny at all."</p> + +<p>"No?" said Enid thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Mine will be a scathing indictment, +and of course I shall bring in the +political situation. He writes back, +evading the point at issue. I crush +him with figures and statistics, and +make him a practical offer—a few deer-forests, +a paltry township, or my unearned +increment, as the case may be."</p> + +<p>"The mowing-machine is out of +order," Enid remarked.</p> + +<p>"I quote passages in his letter as the +basis of negotiation. He pretends to +accept. I point out how, when and why +he has been guilty of paltry quibbling, +and show that the Party he supports +fosters such methods and manners."</p> + +<p>"Is that all?"</p> + +<p>"No. And that is just where I shall +differ from everybody else. I shall go +on where they have stopped. Having +made one individual ridiculous, I shall +broaden the basis of operation. With +consummate skill I shall gradually draw +the public officials down into the +arena."</p> + +<p>"Don't forget the gas-man; he was +very rude last month."</p> + +<p>"Not that kind," I explained. +"Cabinet Ministers, Secretaries of +State, the whole machinery of government +shall writhe under the barbed +shafts of my mockery. Ridicule is the +power of the age. Ridicule in my +hands shall be as bayonets to <span class="sc">Napoleon</span>, +as poison to a <span class="sc">Borgia</span>." I gasped.</p> + +<p>"Help!" said Enid, taking up <i>The +Daily Most</i>. "Here's the very thing," +she went on. "Somebody called 'A. +Lethos'——"</p> + +<p>"Pah! A pseudonym."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, he says that all +political writers are worthless sycophants. +You might begin on that."</p> + +<p>"I will," I cried. "But craven +anonymity is not my part. My name +shall stand forth boldly. +Fate's linger points the way. +How do you spell 'sycophant'? +The type has gone +a bit dizzy over it."</p> + +<p>And I plunged into the fray.</p> + +<p>"Sir," I began; and there +followed 2,000 words of +closely-woven argument, +down to "I remain, Sir, +your obedient Servant."</p> + +<p>I read it through carefully, +looked up "sycophant" in +the dictionary, and wrote it +all out again.</p> + +<p>Then I showed it to Enid.</p> + +<p>"Why have you spelt +'sycophant' like that?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"I——"</p> + +<p>"No, 'y.'"</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> a 'y.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" (Pause.) "What about the +offer? Mr. Lethos says that ninetenths +of what is written nowadays is +only worth the ink and paper."</p> + +<p>"The offer," I reminded her, "will +come later."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I just thought—— You +might get rid of those articles on +'Happiness in the Home' at cost price. +They're running up to quite a lot in +stamps."</p> + +<p>I posted the letter to the Editor.</p> + +<p>Next morning I seized the paper +nervously. There was my name at the +end of a column and a half. I had begun.</p> + +<p>I sat down to wait for the next step. +It came with the mid-day post in a +letter from Saxby, who is—or was—my +friend.</p> + +<p>"Good old Tibbles," it ran; "I knew +some juggins would rise, whatever I +wrote. But fancy landing you!—Yours +ever, <span class="sc">Beefers</span>."</p> + +<p>Now how <i>can</i> a man save his country +on a thing like that?</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page187" id="page187"></a>[pg 187]</span><h2>SMILES AND LAUGHTER.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>On days of gloom and sadness,</p> +<p class="i2">When nothing brings relief,</p> +<p>When men are moved to madness</p> +<p class="i2">And women groan with grief;</p> +<p>Though growing daily dafter,</p> +<p class="i2">I might, as once I did,</p> +<p>Have cheered myself with laughter,</p> +<p class="i2">But laughter is forbid.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>If I should treat of <span class="sc">Carson</span>,</p> +<p class="i2">His guns and rataplan,</p> +<p>It's something worse than arson</p> +<p class="i2">To smile at such a man;</p> +<p>Since chaff would make his pulse stir—</p> +<p class="i2">And this he cannot brook—</p> +<p>The more he talks of Ulster</p> +<p class="i2">The solemner we look.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Then, should I meet a <span class="sc">Cecil</span>,</p> +<p class="i2">(Lord <span class="sc">Robert</span> or Lord <span class="sc">Hugh</span>),</p> +<p>His manifest distress'll</p> +<p class="i2">Be very sad to view</p> +<p>Unless I'm in a proper,</p> +<p class="i2">A gloomy frame of mind,</p> +<p>And put a heavy stopper</p> +<p class="i2">On mirth of any kind.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Next <span class="sc">Poutsea</span> brings his quota</p> +<p class="i2">For giving me delight,</p> +<p>Who wants to punish <span class="sc">Botha</span></p> +<p class="i2">By living in his sight;</p> +<p>Or, foiled of such a strife-time,</p> +<p class="i2">Decides to have a blow</p> +<p>And spend a briny lifetime</p> +<p class="i2">In sailing to and fro.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>And <span class="sc">Seddon</span>, who gave greetings</p> +<p class="i2">To those deported nine,</p> +<p>Invited them to meetings</p> +<p class="i2">And asked them out to dine,</p> +<p>And begged of them and prayed them</p> +<p class="i2">To be no longer banned,</p> +<p>But hardly could persuade them</p> +<p class="i2">To leave the ship and land.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>These two, the gloom beguiling,</p> +<p class="i2">Might make me greatly dare,</p> +<p>Might set my face a-smiling</p> +<p class="i2">And win my soul from care;</p> +<p>The fêted and the feeders</p> +<p class="i2">Might well provoke some chaff;</p> +<p>But no—they're Labour Leaders,</p> +<p class="i2">And so we mustn't laugh.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>And, last, there's <span class="sc">Law</span>, our <span class="sc">Bonar</span>,</p> +<p class="i2">Who in a burst of tact</p> +<p>Is minded to dishonour</p> +<p class="i2">The loathed Insurance Act;</p> +<p>With opposites agreeing,</p> +<p class="i2">He faces North by South,</p> +<p>And keeps the Act in being</p> +<p class="i2">And kills it with his mouth.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>He too might smooth a wrinkle,</p> +<p class="i2">Although he's stern and grim,</p> +<p>And make my eyes to twinkle</p> +<p class="i2">By seeing fun in him;</p> +<p>Cursed be that cheerful vision,</p> +<p class="i2">And cursed all sense of fun:</p> +<p>It is a foul misprision</p> +<p class="i2">To smile at anyone.</p> +</div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:45%;"><a href="images/187.png"><img width="100%" src="images/187.png" alt="" /></a><h3>REVERIE.</h3> + +<p>"<span class="sc">No, darling, not in the study. Your father went round in bogey to-day and +wants to have a nice long think about it.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>HAVE YOU ANYTHING TO SELL?</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>With acknowledgments to "The Daily +Mail."</i>)</p> + +<p>Have you anything you think of +burning as useless, but would naturally +prefer to sell? Why not try one of our +small advertisements? Every day we +receive thousands of letters testifying +to their power. Here is one, picked +up at random:—</p> + +<p>"Please discontinue my advertisement +of a half-pair of bellows and a +stuffed canary, as the first insertion +has had such remarkable results. On +looking out of my bedroom window +this morning I observed a queue of +some hundreds of people extending +from my doorstep down to the trams +in the main road. They included ladies +on campstools, messenger boys, a sad-looking +young man in an ulster who +was reading <span class="sc">Swinburne's</span> poems, and +others. Only with difficulty could the +milkman fight his way through to +place the can on the doorstep, and the +contents were quickly required to +restore a lady who had turned faint for +want of a camp-stool. While I was +shaving, a motor mail-van dashed up +and left seven sacks of postal replies to +the advertisement. One by one, eighty-three +people were admitted to view the +goods, and a satisfactory bargain was +made with the last of these. I then +telephoned for the police to come and +remove the disappointed thousands, +who were disposed to be riotous. My +garden gate is off its hinges, the garden +itself has the lawn inextricably mixed +with the flower-beds, my marble step +is cracked in three places, and my stair-carpet +is caked with mud. I do not +know any other paper in this country +in which a two-shilling advertisement +could produce such encouraging results."</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page188" id="page188"></a>[pg 188]</span><h2>ORANGES AND LEMONS.</h2> + +<p class="center">I.—<span class="sc">The Invitation.</span></p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="sc">Dear Myra</span>," wrote Simpson at the +beginning of the year,—"I have an important +suggestion to make to you both, +and I am coming round to-morrow +night after dinner about nine o'clock. +As time is so short I have asked Dahlia +and Archie to meet me there, and if by +any chance you have gone out we shall +wait till you come back.</p> + +<p>Yours ever,<br /> +<span class="sc">Samuel</span>.</p> + +<p>P.S.—I have asked Thomas too."</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Well?" said Myra eagerly, as I +gave her back the letter.</p> + +<p>In deep thought I buttered a piece of +toast.</p> + +<p>"We could stop Thomas," I said. +"We might ring up the Admiralty and +ask them to give him something to +do this evening. I don't know about +Archie. Is he——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, what do you think it is? +Aren't you excited?" She sighed and +added, "Of course I know what Samuel +<i>is</i>."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Probably he wants us all to +go to the Wonder Zoo together ... or +he's discovered a new way of putting, +or—— I say, I didn't know Archie +and Dahlia were in town."</p> + +<p>"They aren't. But I expect Samuel +telegraphed to them to meet him under +the clock at Charing Cross, disguised, +when they would hear of something +to their advantage. Oh, I wonder +what it is. It <i>must</i> be something real +this time."</p> + +<p>Since the day when Simpson woke +me up at six o'clock in the morning to +show me his stance-for-a-full-wooden-club +shot I have distrusted his enthusiasms; +but Myra loves him as a +mother; and I—I couldn't do without +him; and when a man like that invites +a whole crowd of people to come to +your flat just about the time when you +are wondering what has happened to the +sardines on toast, and why doesn't she +bring them in—well, it isn't polite +to put the chain on the door and +explain through the letter-box that you +have gone away for a week.</p> + +<p>"We'd better have dinner a bit +earlier to be on the safe side," I said, +as Myra gave me a parting brush down +in the hall. "If any further developments +occur in the course of the day +ring me up at the office. By the way, +Simpson doesn't seem to have invited +Peter. I wonder why not. He's +nearly two, and he ought to be in it. +Myra, I'm sure I'm tidy now."</p> + +<p>"Pipe, tobacco, matches, keys, +money?"</p> + +<p>"Everything," I said. "Bless you. +Good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," said Myra lingeringly. +"What do you think he meant by 'as +time is so short'?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. At least," I added, +looking at my watch, "I do know. I +shall be horribly late. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>I fled down the stairs into the street, +waved to Myra at the window ... and +then came cautiously up again for my +pipe. Life is very difficult on the +mornings when you are in a hurry.</p> + +<p>At dinner that night Myra could +hardly eat for excitement.</p> + +<p>"You'll be sorry afterwards," I +warned her, "when it turns out to be +nothing more than that he has had his +hair cut."</p> + +<p>"But even if it is I don't see why I +shouldn't be excited at seeing my only +brother again—not to mention sister-in-law."</p> + +<p>"You only want to see them so that +you can talk about Peter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Fatty, darling"—(I am really +quite thin)—"oh, Fatty," cried Myra—("lean +and slender" would perhaps +describe it better)—cried Myra, clasping +her hands together—(in fact the +very last person you could call stout)—"I +haven't seen the darling for ages! +But I shall see Samuel," she added +hopefully, "and he's almost as young." +("Svelte"—that's the word for me.)</p> + +<p>"Then let's move," I said. "They'll +be here directly."</p> + +<p>Archie and Dahlia came first. We +besieged them with questions as soon +as they appeared.</p> + +<p>"Haven't an idea," said Archie. "I +wanted to bring a revolver in case it +was anything really desperate, but +Dahlia wouldn't let me."</p> + +<p>"It would have been useful too," I +said, "if it turned out to be something +merely futile."</p> + +<p>"You're not going to hurt my +Samuel, however futile it is," said Myra. +"Dahlia, how's Peter, and will you +have some coffee?"</p> + +<p>"Peter's lovely. You've had coffee, +haven't you, Archie?"</p> + +<p>"Better have some more," I suggested, +"in case Simpson is merely +soporific. We anticipate a slumbering +audience, and Samuel explaining a new +kind of googlie he's invented."</p> + +<p>Entered Thomas lazily.</p> + +<p>"Hallo," he said in his slow voice, +"What's it all about?"</p> + +<p>"It's a raid on the Begum's palace," +explained Archie rapidly. "Dahlia +decoys the Chief Mucilage; you, +Thomas, drive the submarine; Myra has +charge of the clockwork mouse, and we +others hang about and sing. To say +more at this stage would be to bring +about a European conflict."</p> + +<p>"Coffee, Thomas?" said Myra.</p> + +<p>"I bet he's having us on," said +Thomas gloomily, as he stirred his +coffee.</p> + +<p>There was a hurricane in the hall. +Chairs were swept over; coats and hats +fell to the ground; a high voice offered +continuous apologies—and Simpson +came in.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Myra!" he said eagerly. +"Hallo, old chap! Hallo, Dahlia! +Hallo, Archie! Hallo, Thomas, old +boy!" He fixed his spectacles firmly +on his nose and beamed round the +room.</p> + +<p>"You haven't said 'Hallo!' to the +cook," Archie pointed out.</p> + +<p>"We're all here—thanking you very +much for inviting us," I said. "Have +a cigar—if you've brought any with +you."</p> + +<p>Fortunately he had brought several +with him.</p> + +<p>"Now then, I'll give any of you +three guesses what it's all about."</p> + +<p>"No, you don't. We're all waiting, +and you can begin your apology right +away."</p> + +<p>Simpson took a deep breath and +began.</p> + +<p>"I've been lent a villa," he said.</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence ... +and then Archie got up.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," he said to Myra, holding +out his hand. "Thanks for a very +jolly evening. Come along, Dahlia."</p> + +<p>"But I say, old chap," protested +Simpson.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Simpson, but the fact +that you're moving from the Temple +to Cricklewood, or wherever it is, and +that somebody else is paying the thirty +pounds a year, is jolly interesting, but +it wasn't good enough to drag us up +from the country to tell us about it. +You could have written. However, +thank you for the cigar."</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow, it isn't Cricklewood. +It's the Riviera!"</p> + +<p>Archie sat down again.</p> + +<p>"Samuel!" cried Myra. "How she +must love you!"</p> + +<p>"I should never lend Simpson a villa +of mine," I said. "He'd only lose it."</p> + +<p>"They're some very old friends who +live there, and they're going away for a +month, and the servants are staying on, +and they suggested that if I was going +abroad again this year——"</p> + +<p>"How did the servants know you'd +been abroad last year?" asked Archie.</p> + +<p>"Don't interrupt, dear," said Dahlia. +"I see what he means. How very jolly +for you, Samuel."</p> + +<p>"For all of us, Dahlia!" +"You aren't suggesting we shall all +crowd in?" growled Thomas.</p> + +<p>"Of course, my dear old chap! I +told them, and they're delighted. We +can share housekeeping expenses, and +it will be as cheap as anything."</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page189" id="page189"></a>[pg 189]</span><p>"But to go into a stranger's house," +said Dahlia anxiously.</p> + +<p>"It's <i>my</i> house, Dahlia, for the time. +I invite you!" He threw out his +hands in a large gesture of welcome +and knocked his coffee-cup on to the +carpet; begged Myra's pardon several +times; and then sat down again and +wiped his spectacles vigorously.</p> + +<p>Archie looked doubtfully at Thomas.</p> + +<p>"Duty, Thomas, duty," he said, +thumping his chest. "You can't desert +the Navy at this moment of crisis."</p> + +<p>"Might," said Thomas, puffing at +his pipe.</p> + +<p>Archie looked at me. I looked hopefully +at Myra.</p> + +<p>"Oh-h-h!" said Myra, entranced.</p> + +<p>Archie looked at Dahlia. Dahlia +frowned.</p> + +<p>"It isn't till February," said Simpson +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"It's very kind of you, Samuel," +said Dahlia, "but I don't think——"</p> + +<p>Archie nodded to Simpson.</p> + +<p>"You leave this to me," he said +confidentially. "We're going."</p> + +<p>A. A. M.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:45%;"><a href="images/189.png"><img width="100%" src="images/189.png" alt="" /></a><p><span class="sc">"Porter, what on earth are we waiting here for?"</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">"You're waitin' to go on, Sir."</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE CHAMELEONS.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>From "The Gladiator," Nov. 1914.</i>)</p> + +<p class="center">ASSOCIATION.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Whitebrook Rovers <i>v.</i> Bromville.</span></p> + +<p>The meeting of these teams on Saturday +last produced a struggle of titanic +dimensions worthy of the best traditions +of the famous combinations +engaged. On the one hand we saw +the machine-like precision, the subtle +finesse so characteristic of the Whitebrook +men, while at the same time we +revelled in the dash and speed, the +consummate daring displayed by their +doughty opponents. We have witnessed +many games, but for keenness +and enthusiasm this one must rank.... In +a game where every man +acquitted himself well it is difficult to +particularise; but Brown, Jones, Green +and McSleery for the Rovers, and Gray, +Smith, Black and McSkinner for the +Broms, may be mentioned as being +shining lights in their respective +positions.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>From "The Gladiator," Nov. 1915.</i>)</p> + +<p class="center">ASSOCIATION.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Whitebrook Rovers <i>v.</i> Bromville.</span></p> + +<p>Before a huge crowd exceeding 60,000 +these historic combinations met on +Saturday, and provided a rich treat +for those who had the privilege to be +there. The officials of both clubs have +been busy team-building, and the sides +differed in many instances from those +antagonizing on the same ground a +year ago. That the changes have been +judicious and beneficial Saturday's game +abundantly proved. The men played +with great earnestness, evincing much +local patriotism, and in their contrasted +styles—the polished artistry, the +scientific precision of the Rovers, and +the dash and forceful intrepidity of the +Broms—were at their very best. We +have seen many games, but this must +rank.... While every man did +himself justice, it may not be invidious +to mention, for the Rovers, Gray, Smith, +Black and McSkinner, and for the +Broms, Brown, Jones, Green and +McSleery, as being bright particular +stars in their respective departments.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>From a literary weekly:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"It is a terribly accurate saying about the +loud laugh and the vacant mind—Pope never +got down surer to the bare bones of the truth."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Nor did <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span> when he pointed +out the danger of "a little learning."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>From two consecutive items of "News +in a Nutshell" in the <i>North-Eastern +Daily Gazette</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Lieut. ——, of an infantry regiment at +Lemburg, Austria, fell fast asleep on February +14, and all efforts to wake him have proved +futile ever since.</p> + +<p>A sleeper weighing 8 cwt. was found on the +Great Western Railway near Banbury just +before the arrival of a train from the north."</p></blockquote> + +<p>However, it was not the lieutenant.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page190" id="page190"></a>[pg 190]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:75%;"><a href="images/190.png"><img width="100%" src="images/190.png" alt="" /></a><h3>THINGS THAT ONE MIGHT HAVE PUT DIFFERENTLY.</h3> + +<p>"<span class="sc">How de do, Lady Smythe? I've just driven the motor over to fetch my wife away.</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">How nice of you, Admiral; but I do wish you'd come sooner.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>FORGIVENESS.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>A Dream after losing a Dog.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Methought I saw the man that stole our Tim</p> +<p class="i2">In a night vision; and "Behold!" he cried,</p> +<p>"This was a task too easy for my whim,</p> +<p class="i2">A job of little worth and little pride,</p> +<p class="i2">An Irish terrier." Then his pal replied,</p> +<p>"I know a place where you may pinch with ease</p> +<p>One of these here carnation Pekinese.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"You see them nasty spikes on that there wall?</p> +<p class="i2">Climb it, and you shall find a little yard;</p> +<p>An unlatched casement leads you to a hall,</p> +<p class="i2">Thence to the crib where, odorous with nard,</p> +<p class="i2">Slumbers the petted plaything; 'twere not hard</p> +<p>Out of his cushioned ease (and gorged belike</p> +<p>With sweetmeats) to appropriate the tyke."</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>So, filled with high ambition and the hope</p> +<p class="i2">Of gaining huge emolument, this man</p> +<p>Hung to the toothed battlements a rope,</p> +<p class="i2">Climbed and leapt down to execute his plan—</p> +<p class="i2">But even as he leapt a noise began</p> +<p>As when the Arctic icebergs break and grind;</p> +<p>This was because his pants were caught behind.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Awhile they tore, then stayed. And helpless there</p> +<p class="i2">Betwixt the silvery moonlight and the ground</p> +<p>He hung convulsive, grasping at the air,</p> +<p class="i2">For two full hours it may be, whilst a hound</p> +<p class="i2">Of the Great Danish breed, that made no sound</p> +<p>Save a deep snarl, below him watching stood</p> +<p>(This portion of my dream was very good).</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>And much he vowed because of his great pain</p> +<p class="i2">That he was the most dashed of all dashed fools</p> +<p>And never would he steal a dog again,</p> +<p class="i2">No (strite!) he would not. He recalled the rules</p> +<p class="i2">That teachers taught him in the Sunday Schools</p> +<p>And thought on serious happenings and the grave;</p> +<p>And with dawn's earliest flush his trousers gave.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<hr style="width: 20%; Margin-left: 2em; Margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;" /> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>And having waited for a time I went</p> +<p class="i2">To see him in the hospital. And hours</p> +<p>Of earnest converse with the man I spent,</p> +<p class="i2">Told him of Nemesis and what dark powers</p> +<p class="i2">Punish our mortal crimes, and brought him flowers,</p> +<p>Dog-roses and dog-violets, and read</p> +<p>The Eighth Commandment out beside his bed.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Evoe.</span></p> +</div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>The Daily Telegraph</i> on the next Drury Lane melodrama:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"We are able to say on the very best authority that the idea at the +root of the story is of a quite unusual nature; indeed, if secrecy were +not for the moment imposed, one might even go a step further and +declare it to be of startling originality."</p></blockquote> + +<p>As it is, one doesn't; for if once the secret got about that the +play was to be original there would be riots in Fleet Street.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Song, 'March of the Men of Garlick' (Tune, Welsh melody)."</p> + +<p><i>Ripon Observer.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>A pardonable mistake. The national emblem is of course +the leek.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page191" id="page191"></a>[pg 191]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:45%;"><a href="images/191.png"><img width="100%" src="images/191.png" alt="" /></a><h3>THE WOOING.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Miss Ulster.</span> "AN' WHAT'S THE GOOD OF HIM SENDIN' ME FLOWERS WHEN I'VE +TOLD HIM 'NO' ALREADY?"</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Mr. Punch.</span> "WELL NOW, COME, MY DEAR—WON'T YOU JUST TAKE A GOOD LOOK +AT THEM BEFORE YOU START TURNING UP YOUR PRETTY NOSE?"</p></div> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page192" id="page192"></a>[pg 192]</span><hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page193" id="page193"></a>[pg 193]</span><div class="figright" style="width:45%;"><a href="images/193-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/193-1.png" alt="" /></a><h3>"A HOLLOW DEMONSTRATION."</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>With acknowledgments to <span class="sc">Gillray's</span> caricature of <span class="sc">Napoleon</span> as +Gulliver among the Brobdingnagians.</i>)</p> + +<blockquote><p>[Mr. <span class="sc">D. M. Mason's</span> motion for the reduction of the Supplementary +Navy Estimates was defeated by 237 votes to 34.]</p></blockquote></div> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc">Extracted from the Diary Of +Toby, M.P.</span>)</p> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, +March 2.</i>—In speech +of flawless lucidity displaying +perfect command of +columnar figures upon which +strength of British Navy is +based, the <span class="sc">Winsome Winston</span> +moved Supplementary +Estimates amounting to two +and a-half millions. These +raise total expenditure of +year on the Navy to forty-eight +millions. "A serious +event," he admitted amid +sympathetic cheers from +below Gangway to his right. +Necessity arises from increased +expenditure on oil +reserves; from demand for +a quarter of a million for +the new aircraft programme, +an item unknown to <span class="sc">Old +Morality</span> or <span class="sc">Childers</span> +when successively at the +Admiralty; from increment +of wages and acceleration +of ship-building.</p> + +<p>He might have mentioned that of +grand total close upon two millions is +legacy left by former Ministry on account +of liabilities incurred before 1905. +Whilst present Government, austerely-minded, +pay their way as they go, +meeting increased expenditure out of +revenue, <span class="sc">Prince Arthur</span>, with characteristically +light heart, built ships +and strengthened fortifications, raising +the money by loan, which he gaily left +to posterity to pay off. Posterity has +this pleasant task in hand now, and +will continue to be engaged upon it for +next twenty years.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Winston</span> judiciously refrained from +pressing the point. Had enough on +his hands with discontented supporters +below Gangway, who resent ever-increasing +burden of Naval expenditure. +<span class="sc">Ramsay Macdonald</span> lodged protest on +behalf of Labour Members; stopped +short of moving reduction of vote. +This done by <span class="sc">David Mason</span> of Coventry.</p> + +<p>"A hollow demonstration," was +<span class="sc">Gilbert Parker's</span> terse description of +the revolt. On a division Estimates +were carried by a majority of 203. +Only 34 voted for reduction.</p> + +<p>Prolongation of debate plainly boring. +By exception, one listener sat it out +with unwearied attention. Nothing precisely +cherubic in face or figure of Lord +<span class="sc">Fisher of Kilverstone</span>, better known +on sea and land by the affectionate +diminutive <span class="sc">Jacky Fisher</span>. Nevertheless, +as he sat perched in Peers' Gallery +immediately over the clock, a place ever +associated with the genial presence of +<span class="sc">Edward Prince of Wales</span>, there +flashed across the mind a familiar +couplet sung by <span class="sc">Dibdin</span>:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft</p> +<p>To keep watch for the life of poor Jack."</p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:30%;"><a href="images/193-2.png"><img width="100%" src="images/193-2.png" alt="" /></a><h3>JACK'S JACK.</h3> +<p class="center">(Lord <span class="sc">Fisher</span>).</p></div> + +<p>Whilst jealous for maintenance of +Naval power, no Admiral or Sea Lord +did more to improve conditions of life +on the lower deck than did <span class="sc">Jacky +Fisher</span>. Retired from active service, +his multiform commissions under +hatches, to-night his body +has gone aloft to a seat +in Peers' Gallery. There +he heard expounded biggest +Navy vote submitted since +days of the "Great Harry." +Exceptionally swollen by +provision for reserves of oil +fuel, a new departure, for +which he in his capacity +as Chairman of a Royal +Commission has, as <span class="sc">Winston</span> +testified, been chiefly +responsible.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Naval +Estimates discussed.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—Another scene +testifying to electricity of +atmosphere. As usual, explosion +from unexpected +quarter. House in committee +on Naval Estimates. +Lord <span class="sc">Robert Cecil</span>, ever +alert in interests of working-man +with a vote, moved +reduction in order to call +attention to housing accommodation +provided for men +employed at Rosyth. Chairman +ruled debate out of +order on Supplementary +Estimates. Lord <span class="sc">Bob</span> nevertheless +managed to sum up purport of +intended speech by denouncing state of +things as "a scandal and disgrace to the +Government." At this stage Opposition +Whips, counting heads, discovered that, +if not at the moment in actual minority, +Government would, if division were +rushed, find themselves in parlous +state. The word—it was "Mum"—went +round Opposition benches.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately for success of plot +Ministerial Whips also alive to situation.</p> + +<p>"After your ruling, Sir," said Lord +<span class="sc">Bob</span> with ominous politeness, "I cannot +develop my argument, but I propose +to persist in my motion, and will divide +the Committee."</p> + +<p>Not if <span class="sc">Leif Jones</span> knew it. For +him, as for all good Ministerialists, +subject suddenly developed interest, +urgently demanded consideration. This +he proposed to bestow upon it. A +Bengal tiger about to lunch off a toothsome +native, discovering the anticipated +meal withdrawn from his reach, could +not be more sublimely wrathful than +were gentlemen on Opposition benches. +And <span class="sc">Leif Jones</span>, too! The mildest-mannered +man that ever turned on a +water-tap.</p> + +<p>After a moment of petrified pause, +natural to Bengal tiger on discovering +reality of his discomfiture, there burst +forth roar of "'Vide! 'Vide! 'Vide!" +From appearance of <span class="sc">Leif Jones's</span> lips, +he was continuing his remarks. Not a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page194" id="page194"></a>[pg 194]</span>syllable rose above the storm. After it +had raged for some moments <span class="sc">Chairman</span> +pointed out that, whilst divigation in +direction of Rosyth was out of order, it +was competent to any Member to +discuss the vote as a whole.</p> + +<p>This too much for <span class="sc">A. S. Wilson</span>, who +has been surprisingly reticent since +Session opened.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:35%;"><a href="images/194.png"><img width="100%" src="images/194.png" alt="" /></a><p>"I understand you have only one Welsh saint. Well, +there'll soon be another; it will be Saint Lloyd George. +I would canonise him right away."—<i>The Rev. Dr. <span class="sc">Clifford</span> +at Westbourne Park Chapel.</i></p></div> + +<p>"Is it right for the <span class="sc">Chairman</span>," he +asked, "to protect the Government +from what may be an inconvenient +position?"</p> + +<p>"A grossly disorderly observation," +the <span class="sc">Chairman</span> retorted.</p> + +<p>A. S. withdrew the remark, the +more willingly since designed effect +gained.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Cousin Hugh</span>, for some time +moving uneasily in corner seat +below Gangway, bounded to his +feet. Member near him simultaneously +rose. With sweep of +left arm, after manner of <span class="sc">Richard +III.</span> directing the cutting off of +the head of <span class="sc">Buckingham</span>, he +waved the appalled Member down. +Was getting on nicely with what +he had to say when, like <span class="sc">Grand +Cross</span> on historical occasion, he +"heard a smile."</p> + +<p>It came from <span class="sc">Winston</span>.</p> + +<p>"I notice," said <span class="sc">Cousin Hugh</span> +glaring on the Treasury bench, +"that the <span class="sc">First Lord of the +Admiralty</span>, who is very ignorant +on many matters, is amused at +this observation."</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Winston</span> explained that what +he had laughed at was "the lordly +gesture with which the noble +Lord swept away another honourable +gentleman."</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Leif Jones</span>, proposing to continue +his remarks, presented himself +again. Greeted with fresh +yell of execration. Battled for +some moments with the storm. Too +much for him. Reached forth hand; +seized imperceptible tankard of invisible +stout; gratefully wetted his +parched lips withal. Refreshed, he +tried again; no articulate word dominated +the din.</p> + +<p>After further ten minutes of uproar, +through which from time to time <span class="sc">A. S. +Wilson</span> tried to get in more or less +relevant remark and was instantly extinguished +by the <span class="sc">Chairman</span>, who +masterfully managed difficult situation, +<span class="sc">Winston</span> interposed. A bird of the air +had brought news from Whips' Room +that all was well. Accordingly the +<span class="sc">First Lord</span> graciously conceded division +clamoured for.</p> + +<p>Its result profound surprise. So far +from Government lacking support, the +amendment was negatived by more than +two to one. Majority rushed up to 140.</p> + +<p>Evidently been a mistake somewhere.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Supplementary votes +agreed to.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—Dramatic turn in position +of Home Rule Bill. <span class="sc">Premier</span> +hitherto steadfast in deferring Second +Reading till close of financial year. As +result of confabulation between two +Front Benches arranged that Supplementary +Estimates shall be hurried up +so as to make opening for immediate +debate on Second Reading.</p> + +<p>Accordingly <span class="sc">St. Augustine Birrell</span> +to-day brought in Bill for First Reading. +No need of persuasion of silver tongue +to carry this stage. Proceeding purely +formal. Fight opens on Monday, when +<span class="sc">Premier</span>, moving Second Reading, will +explain his "suggestions" of amendment.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Home Rule brought +in, being third time of asking. Welsh +Church Disestablishment Bill and +Plural Voting Bill also read amid +vociferous cheering by Ministerialists.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"His brilliant flashes of wit and humour +evoked hearty applause, and sometimes even +laughter."—<i>Teesdale Mercury.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Almost the last thing you would have +expected.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"One of the strongest traits in Mrs. Barclay's +character is a love of all creatures, great and +small—thrushes, wagtails and robins come to +her when she calls, and she keeps a little box +of worms to feed them."—<i>Woman at Home.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Sometimes the worms must wish she +wasn't quite so loving.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE DOWNWARD TREND.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">Come, Nora, Nance and Nellie,</p> +<p class="i2">Let us study <span class="sc">Botticelli</span></p> +<p>When we feel the gnawing craving to be smart;</p> +<p class="i2">If we want to be <i>de rigueur</i></p> +<p class="i2">We must educate the figure</p> +<p>To show the downward trend of "plastic art."</p> +<p class="i2">The outline should be slack,</p> +<p class="i2">Slippy-sloppy, front and back,</p> +<p>Till bodice, skirt and tunic—every stitch—</p> +<p class="i2">Seems to call for the support</p> +<p class="i2">Of the handy-man's resort—</p> +<p>That naval gesture termed the "double hitch."</p> +<p class="i2">The shoulders must be drooping.</p> +<p class="i2">The knees a trifle stooping,</p> +<p>And the widest waist, remember, takes the prize;</p> +<p class="i2">When motoring or shopping</p> +<p class="i2">The <i>coatee</i> must be flopping</p> +<p>Through a belt that's sagging downward to the thighs.</p> +<p class="i2">But the evening toilette scheme</p> +<p class="i2">Shows the opposite extreme,</p> +<p>And, when for dance or dinner you're equipped,</p> +<p class="i2">A clinging "mermaid's tail"</p> +<p class="i2">The nether limbs must veil,</p> +<p>While the corsage is the only part that's slipped.</p> +</div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"At the close of the match, Mr. +Burnett, Kenmay, announced the result +and called for cheers for the winners. +Mr. J. Fulton, President English Province +R.C.C.C., responded."—<i>Field.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>We are sorry that Mr. <span class="sc">Fulton</span> +was the only one. After his +opening "Hip—hip—hip" even +the most timid or indifferent +should have joined in.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Tickets purchased before the date will +admit holders at 2 p.m. to view the machine +used when 'looping the loop,' and the passenger +carrying machine."</p> + +<p><i>Advt. in "The Varsity."</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>At the risk of embarrassing this anonymous +Samson we shall go early and +view him.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Councillor Johnson said the Bye Laws wore +not in a satisfactory state, and suggested that +Councillor Bayman be added to the number."</p> + +<p><i>Mossel Bay Advertiser.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Henceforward the penalty for breaking +Councillor <span class="sc">Bayman</span> is forty shillings.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Report received by a South African +mine-manager:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The mule being experimented with by +feeding on bad mealies is still being carried +out, but up to date the animal seems to keep +in normal condition."</p></blockquote> + +<p>They must carry him out again.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page195" id="page195"></a>[pg 195]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:75%;"><a href="images/195.png"><img width="100%" src="images/195.png" alt="" /></a><h3>LANGUAGE À LA MODE.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">"What do you think? Isn't it <i>rather</i> nice?"</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">"My dear, how <i>utterly succulent</i>!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> + +<p class="center">"<span class="sc">The Two Virtues.</span>"</p> + +<p>The news, which ran like wildfire +through the town on Wednesday +morning, that Sir <span class="sc">George Alexander</span> +had signed the Covenant, must have +stirred many hearts; but those of us +who saw him on the next night as the +hero of Mr. <span class="sc">Alfred Sutro's</span> comedy +are hoping that, at any rate, there +will be no fighting on Wednesday and +Saturday afternoons, and that sentry +duty in the evenings may be performed +by less valuable signatories. For in +<i>Jeffery Panton</i> he has really found a +part to suit him, and a part which +should keep him busy for some months. +Comedy is certainly his medium.</p> + +<p>It is not, alas, Miss <span class="sc">Martha Hedman's</span>, +nor is English her language. +Her pretty foreign accent and tearful +manner became her as a French girl in +<i>The Attack</i>, but it won't do for every +part she plays. It didn't do in the least +for <i>Mrs. Guildford</i>. The difficulty of +understanding what she said was made +greater by a surprising catarrh amongst +the first-night audience, so that her +scenes had a way of going like this:—</p> + +<p><i>Jeffery Panton</i> (<i>clearly</i>). But I must +just talk to you a moment.</p> + +<p><i>Stall on left.</i> Honk—honk! Honk! +H'r'r'm!</p> + +<p><i>Dress circle.</i> <span class="sc">Honk! Honk!!</span></p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Guildford.</i> No, no, I must get on +with my work.</p> + +<p><i>Stall just behind.</i> <span class="sc">What did she +say?</span></p> + +<p><i>Her neighbour.</i> Something about her +work.</p> + +<p><i>Her other neighbour.</i> Honk—honk! +H'r'm! Honk—honk!</p> + +<p><i>Gallery boy.</i> HONK—HONK—HONK!</p> + +<p><i>Several voices.</i> Sh'sh!</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Guildford.</i> No ... I ... you ...</p> + +<p><i>Second gallery boy.</i> Stop that coughing +there!</p> + +<p><i>Injured voice.</i> <i>I</i> can't 'elp coughing!</p> + +<p><i>Several voices.</i> Sh'sh!</p> + +<p>But I'm afraid the coughing was not +always the fault of the microbes but +sometimes of Mr. <span class="sc">Sutro</span>, who seemed +to be exploiting a wonderful talent for +starting his Acts dully. The opening +scene of the Second Act, between <i>Mrs. +Guildford</i> and <i>Alice Exern</i>, was particularly +tiresome. It went on a long +time, and seemed when audible to be +only a recapitulation of Act I. We +simply had to cough.</p> + +<p>I have said nothing of the story, for +the reason that a summary of it would +hardly do it justice. It is slight, and yet +just strong enough to carry two or three +pleasant creations and much happy +dialogue. The important thing is that +Sir <span class="sc">George</span> is on the stage most of the +time, has many delightful things to +say, and says them delightfully. There +are also Miss <span class="sc">Henrietta Watson</span>, Miss +<span class="sc">Athene Seyler</span>, and Mr. <span class="sc">Herbert +Waring</span>, all excellent.</p> + +<p>It remains to be said that the Two +Virtues are Chastity and Charity; that +<i>Mrs. Guildford</i> lacked (I think—but +they were coughing a good deal just +then) the first virtue, and the other +ladies the second; and that the reclining +chair in Act I. was kindly lent +by—but the name of the generous +fellow will be revealed to you in your +programme when you go.</p> + +<p>M.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"'Paphnutius' was given its first public +performance in London recently. Miss Ellen +Terry appeared in it as an abbcess."</p> + +<p><i>Hong Kong Telegraph.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Our impersonation of a nasty sore +throat "off" is still the talk of China.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page196" id="page196"></a>[pg 196]</span><h2>ONE WAY WITH THEM.</h2> + +<p>Leeson is the best of living creatures +(as so many of us are), but he has one +detestable foible—he always wants to +read something aloud. Now, reading +aloud is a very special gift. Few men +have it, and even of those few there are +some who do not force it upon their +friends; the rest have it not, and +Leeson is of the rest.</p> + +<p>In fact, it is really painful to listen +to him, because he not only reads, but +acts. If it is a woman speaking, he +pipes a falsetto such as no woman outside +a reciter's brain ever possessed. If +it is a rustic, he affects a dialect from +no known district. In emotional passages +one does not dare to look at him +at all, but we all cower with our heads +in our hands, as though we were convicted +but penitent criminals. So much +for dramatic or dialogue pieces. When +it comes to lyric poetry—his favourite +form of literature—Leeson sings, or +rather cantillates, swaying his body to +the rhythm of the lines. If any of the +poets could hear him they would become +'bus-conductors at once; it is as +bad as that.</p> + +<p>Otherwise Leeson is excellent company +and one likes dining with him. +But there's always hanging over one +the dread that he may have alighted on +something new and wonderful, and at +any moment....</p> + +<p>Directly I entered the house last +week I was conscious that this had +happened—Leeson had made another +discovery. I had not been in the +drawing-room for more than a minute, +and had barely shaken hands with Mrs. +Leeson, when he pulled from his pocket +a thin book. I knew the worst at once: +it had about it all the stigmata of new +poetry. It was of the right deadly +hue, the right deadly size, the right +deadly roughness about the edges.</p> + +<p>"I've got something here, my boy," +he said. "The real stuff. Let me——"</p> + +<p>Just at this moment the door opened +and some guests entered.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," he remarked to me, +as he approached to welcome them; +"later. It's wonderful—wonderful!"</p> + +<p>Other guests arriving occupied him, +and then a servant came in to say that +he was wanted on the telephone.</p> + +<p>He returned with the message that +Captain Cathcart was sorry to say he +could not possibly be there until a +quarter-past eight. But please don't +wait.</p> + +<p>It was now five minutes past eight.</p> + +<p>"What I suggest," said Leeson, "is +that we do wait, and that we fill up the +time by reading one or two poems by +a new man that I've just discovered? +They're simply wonderful!"</p> + +<p>He drew out the book and we all +composed ourselves to the ordeal; Mrs. +Gaston, who is the insincerest creature +on earth and has no thoughts beyond +Auction Bridge, even going so far as to +say, ecstatically, "A new poet! How +heavenly!"</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Leeson stopped it. "Oh, +no," she said, "don't let us wait. Very +likely Captain Cathcart will be later +still." And with a sigh of relief that +was almost audible we marched down +to dinner.</p> + +<p>I thought that Leeson cut the time +over our cigars rather short, and we +had no sooner returned to the drawing-room +than he began again. "I won't +keep you more than a few moments," +he said, "but I very much want your +opinion of a new poet I have discovered. +I have his work here," and out came +the deadly book, "and I want to read +one or two brief things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, George, dear," said Mrs. Leeson, +"do you mind postponing that for a +little? Miss Langton is very kindly +going to sing for us, and she has to +leave early."</p> + +<p>Leeson accepted the situation with +as much philosophy as he could muster.</p> + +<p>As a rule I am bored by amateur, or +indeed any, singing after dinner, but I +looked at Miss Langton with an expression +which a Society paper reporter +might easily have misconstrued.</p> + +<p>Long before she had finished we were +all calling out, "Thank you! Thank +you! Encore! Encore!"</p> + +<p>Leeson alone was faint in his praises +and his face fell to a lower depth when +she began again.</p> + +<p>No sooner had she finished and gone +than he was planning another effort, but +during the opportunity afforded by her +departure we had, with great address, +divided ourselves into such animated +groups that Mrs. Leeson, like a tactful +hostess, laid her hand on his arm and +caused him again to postpone it.</p> + +<p>He wandered forlornly from chair to +chair, seeking an opening, and at last +ventured to clear his throat and again +ask if we would like to hear his new +poet. "I assure you he's wonderful!"</p> + +<p>But at this moment old Lady Thistlewood +uttered a little cry and at once +bells were rung for sal-volatile. Her +ladyship, it seems, is subject to attacks +of faintness.</p> + +<p>When next Leeson made his proposal +the Buntons rose and, expressing +every variety of sorrow and regret, stated +that they had no idea it was so late +and they must really tear themselves +away; Mrs. Bunton tactfully taking +down the title of this dear new poet's +book and its publisher.</p> + +<p>This being the signal for the others +to leave, I soon found myself alone.</p> + +<p>"Now!" said Leeson with a triumphant +expression. "Thank goodness +they're out of the way and we're quiet +and snug. Now you shall hear my +poet." He felt for the book. "I tell +you——" He stopped in dismay.</p> + +<p>"I could have sworn it was in my +pocket," he said, and began to hunt +about the room.</p> + +<p>"Where on earth can it be?" he +said.</p> + +<p>I helped him to look for it, but in +vain.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Mrs. Bunton took it?" I +suggested.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure she didn't," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Mrs. Leeson has it?" I +said.</p> + +<p>But she had not. The last time she +had seen it it was on the table after +Mrs. Bunton copied the title.</p> + +<p>Leeson was so utterly dejected that +I felt almost sorry for him.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said at last, "that's the +strangest thing I ever heard of. What +a disappointment! I did want you to +hear it."</p> + +<p>But it was precisely because I didn't +that in my own pocket was the +volume's present hiding-place. When +the front door had closed behind me +half-an-hour later, I slipped it into the +letter-box.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE FOX.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The birds see him first, jay and blackbird and thrush;</p> +<p class="i2">They shriek at his coming and curse him, each one;</p> +<p>With the clay of the vale on his pads and his brush,</p> +<p class="i2">It's the Fallowfield fox and he's pretty near done;</p> +<p>It's a couple of hours since a whip tally-ho'd him;</p> +<p>Now the rookery's stooping to mob and to goad him;</p> +<p>There's an earth on the hill, but he's cooked past believing,</p> +<p>And his tongue's hanging out and his wet ribs are heaving.</p> +<p>Here he comes up the field at a woebegone trot;</p> +<p class="i2">He's stiff as a poker, he's done all he knows;</p> +<p>Now the ploughmen'll view him as likely as not;</p> +<p class="i2">There—they run to the paling and yell as he goes:</p> +<p>Here's an end, if we live to be two minutes older;</p> +<p>See, he turns a glazed eye o'er a mud-spattered shoulder;</p> +<p>There's a hound through the hedgerow....</p> +<p>Game's up, and he's beaten,</p> +<p>And he faces about with a snarl to be eaten.</p> +</div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page197" id="page197"></a>[pg 197]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/197.png"><img width="100%" src="images/197.png" alt="" /></a><h3>MR. PUNCH'S GALLERY OF BRAVE DEEDS. No. 1.</h3> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The hero who took out a party of ladies ferreting.</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE RING.</h2> + +<p class="center">KEEKS <i>v.</i> COCKLES.</p> + +<p class="center">I.—<span class="sc">Old Style.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>By Tony Shovell.</i></p> + +<p>The much-boomed fight between +Nobby Keeks and Bill Cockles ended +in something of a <i>fiasco</i>, the last named +being knocked out with a terrific uppercut +in the first round.</p> + +<p>The men stripped well, and appeared +in excellent fettle. The fight commenced +precisely at 11.22, only fifty-two +minutes after the advertised time.</p> + +<p><i>1st Round.</i>—Both men opened +warily, sparring for an opening. Presently +Cockles stepped in and drove +his left hard to the nose, drawing blood. +Keeks drew back, and Cockles, following +up his advantage, got in a nicely-judged +left hook on the eye, which began to +swell ominously. Though his supporters +were obviously chagrined, Keeks +kept his head admirably, and cleverly +ducked under a right swing and clinched. +At the breakaway Cockles got his left +home on the ribs, but in doing so left +himself open, and Keeks shook him up +badly with a jab to the jaw. Cockles' +hands dropped momentarily, and Keeks, +whipping in a smashing right uppercut, +had his man down and out.</p> + +<p>A poor struggle, lost solely through +carelessness.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center">II.—<span class="sc">New Style.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>By Philip Keppermann.</i></p> + +<p>At twenty-two and a-half minutes +past eleven last night a man stood +looking wistfully over a sea of faces +looming whitely through a thin blue +haze of tobacco smoke. At his feet lay +stretched the limp body of his antagonist. +The disappearance of one eye; +under a large red swelling, combined +with a patulous and rubescent nose, +detracted to some extent from the +dignity of his appearance. An ugly +patch of crimson over his left ribs held +the attention fantastically, morbidly. +It was blood, human blood, his own +blood. The thought fascinated me....</p> + +<p>Somewhere a voice was counting +slowly, steadily, unhesitatingly—<i>one</i>—<i>two</i>—<i>three</i>.... The +voice had in it +the inexorable quality of Fate; it +brought tears to the eyes like the wail +of the Chorus in some Greek drama.</p> + +<p>I looked at the man by my side. His +regard was fixed intently on the prostrate +figure in the ring. His fingers +played uneasily with his watch-chain. +He wore evening dress, and I noticed +that his tie was a little crooked.</p> + +<p>Away outside we caught the distant +hoot of a motorcar. A dog barked. +Then a woman in the audience sneezed; +it seemed unwarrantable, impertinent, +almost a desecration....</p> + +<p>The voice that was counting ceased. +The limp figure did not move. The +one wistful eye of the victor closed for +a moment in relief. There was a sudden +incursion of hurrying figures into +the ring....</p> + +<p>The great fight was over. Nobby +Keeks had beaten Bill Cockles.</p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>By Theresa Chingles.</i></p> + +<p>I was one of forty-four women who +witnessed the great battle last night. +There were, it was said, over three +thousand men.</p> + +<p>On my left sat a young girl in a rose-pink +evening dress, with a dove-colour +opera cloak covering her bare shoulders. +Her eyes followed intently the struggling +figures on the stage, and I +observed that she wore an engagement +ring with three diamonds.</p> + +<p>A few seats away, surrounded by a +swarm of men in evening dress, sat a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page198" id="page198"></a>[pg 198]</span>grey-haired woman, watching the fight +with interest through a gold-rimmed +lorgnette. Her eyes twinkled as heavy +blows were delivered, and when one of +the men began to bleed copiously from +the nose, she uttered an exclamation of +delight. She wore black.</p> + +<p>So far as I could observe, no woman +present showed any sign of repulsion. +It seemed to me significant of the times. +I whispered to my neighbour, "<i>O tempora! +O mores!</i>" but she replied +coldly, "Not at all!" I checked my +impulse to add "<i>Autres temps, autres +mœurs!</i>"</p> + +<p>Of the actual fight I am not competent +to speak. I was most interested +in the referee, whose strong mobile +face reminded me occasionally of Lord +<span class="sc">Byron</span>, at other times of Mr. <span class="sc">Winston +Churchill.</span></p> + +<br /> + +<p class="center"><i>By the Rev. Robert Shackleberry.</i></p> + +<p>I had never seen a boxing contest +before I was invited by the enterprising +editor of <i>The Daily Gong</i> to witness the +encounter last night between "Nobby" +Keeks and William Cockles.</p> + +<p>I found an excellent seat reserved for +me. It was nearing midnight when +the two men mounted the platform. +Cockles came first, wearing a scarlet +dressing-gown with yellow collar and +cuffs. He seemed to me a bluff, hearty, +good-tempered-looking man, though +perhaps unduly prominent in the lower +jaw. Keeks, who followed, wore a +bright green dressing-gown with a +pink sash, and shook hands with six +or seven members of the audience. He +was taller and heavier than his opponent, +and his features, to my mind, +more intelligent but less amiable.</p> + +<p>There was a long delay, during +which I was given to understand that +the men's hands were being bandaged +for some reason. At length the swarm +of seconds and advisers disappeared to +the sound of a gong, and the combatants +stood up and advanced upon +one another. I was embarrassed to +observe that they were nearly nude, +but my embarrassment did not seem +to be shared by any of the ladies +present, so perhaps I have no right to +complain.</p> + +<p>The actual boxing did not last nearly +so long as the preliminaries. This +was perhaps just as well, since Keeks, +afterwards announced the victor, unfortunately +sustained considerable damage +to his right eye and was also losing +blood from his nose—nasty injuries +which, in my opinion, should have led +to the competition being stopped while +he received medical attention. No doubt +the injuries were undesigned.</p> + +<p>Cockles soon afterwards fell down, +and refused to rise while some individual +slowly counted ten. This, I was +told, indicated that he was desirous of +withdrawing from the contest before +his antagonist sustained any further +damage. In my judgment this generosity +merited the award of victory; +but no doubt the authorities know their +business.</p> + +<p>I was glad to have an opportunity +of gaining a new experience, but on +the whole I must say I prefer a quiet +rubber of whist.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE OPPORTUNIST.</h2> + +<p>The personal distinctions, experiences, +successes, opinions, anecdotes and statistics +of Dr. Peterson, F.R.C.S., M.R.C.P., +are too many for me to mention here, +but are never too many for him to +mention anywhere. That was the difficulty +with which the Governors of the +St. Barnabas Throat and Ear Hospital +were confronted from the beginning to +the end of their business of administration. +As member of their honorary +staff he performed his fair share of successful +operations, but when it came to +speech-making he had no consideration +either for his own throat or for anybody +else's ears.</p> + +<p>"It's my belief," said the Chairman, +at the special meeting of the Board +called to arrange the programme for +the opening of the new wing, "that +the whole of this project originated in +Peterson's desire to make himself +heard."</p> + +<p>"I certainly remember his introducing +the matter to the Board," said +Thompson, "with a brief sketch of his +own career."</p> + +<p>"And if the foundation stone could +only speak," said Vernon-White, "it +probably wouldn't be able to recall the +name of the man who laid it, but would +repeat from memory the whole of +Peterson's private history."</p> + +<p>"Proposed, seconded and carried +unanimously," reported the Secretary, +"that at the opening of the new wing +no speech be made by Dr. Peterson."</p> + +<p>"So much for our resolution," said +Bainbridge. "Nevertheless the company +will have barely got seated before +it hears Peterson wondering whether +he may occupy a moment of their valuable +time with a little experience which +happened to him the other day."</p> + +<p>"Even he will give way to Sir Thingummy," +said Thompson, referring to +the great man who had been invited to +make the great speech.</p> + +<p>Bainbridge was always a pessimist. +"Whether," he said, "the context be +the opening of the new wing or the duty +of gratitude to the man that opened it, +the one subject the meeting will hear +all about will be the son of Peter."</p> + +<p>"Proposed, seconded and carried +unanimously," reported the Secretary, +"that the vote of thanks to Sir +Frederick Gorton be moved by the +Chairman."</p> + +<p>"I see myself," said the Chairman, +"resuming my seat after a few moments +of inaudible confusion, and I hear a +ringing voice crying forth: 'In rising +on behalf of the Medical and Surgical +Staff to propose a vote of thanks to our +dear Chairman, I may perhaps be permitted +to remind you that I joined that +staff in 1887, and that since I——?'"</p> + +<p>"Who's the senior member of the +staff?" asked the Chairman.</p> + +<p>"Peterson," said Bainbridge.</p> + +<p>"Who's the oldest in mere age?"</p> + +<p>"Peterson."</p> + +<p>The Chairman thought hard. "The +event is fixed for April 29th," said he. +"Whose week on duty is that?"</p> + +<p>The Secretary looked up the books. +His face fell. "Peterson's," he said.</p> + +<p>"Proposed, seconded and carried +unanimously," said the Chairman hurriedly, +without troubling to take the vote, +"that Dr. Wilkes be appointed to move +the vote of thanks to the Chairman, +and that the Secretary be instructed to +explain the matter, with due tact and +circumspection, to Dr. Peterson."</p> + +<p>"Dear Peterson," wrote the Secretary,—"At +the ceremony of the opening +of the new wing, my Board is particularly +anxious that everything should go +with a swing, and that there shall be +no possibility of any hitch. I am instructed +to ask you if you will be so +good as to hold yourself in readiness to +make the big technical speech of the day +in the unhappy event of Sir Frederick +Gorton failing to turn up. One is +never safe with these London men, and +it is for that reason that the Board +hopes you will not mind putting yourself +to trouble which may prove wasted. +Some of the less eloquent members of +the Staff can be got to make the short +formal speeches."</p> + +<p>Sir Frederick turned up all right, as +the Secretary had taken care that he +should, and declared the wing open, +and thanked the Board for asking him. +Thereupon the Board, by its Chairman, +thanked him, and he rose again and +very briefly thanked the Board for +thanking him. Then Dr. Wilkes got +up and thanked the Chairman even +more briefly still, and the Chairman +got up again and thanked Dr. Wilkes +for thanking him. In fact, only one +man didn't get his share of formal +gratitude, for no one thanked Dr. Peterson +for rising (if he might) to express a +few words of thanks to Dr. Wilkes.</p> + +<p>Anticipating this possibility, Dr. +Peterson devoted the larger part of +his speech to thanking himself.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page199" id="page199"></a>[pg 199]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:75%;"><a href="images/199.png"><img width="100%" src="images/199.png" alt="" /></a><p><i>Grannie.</i> "<span class="sc">And wit's the matter wi' me right leg, Doctor?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Doctor.</i> "<span class="sc">Oh, just old age, Mrs. MacDougall.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Grannie.</i> "<span class="sc">Hoots, man; ye're haverin'. The left leg's hale and soond, and they're <i>baith</i> the same age.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</p> + +<p>To read <i>An Englishman Looks at the World</i> (<span class="sc">Cassell</span>), +a collection of "unrestrained remarks on contemporary +matters"—aeroplanes, <span class="sc">Chesterton</span> and <span class="sc">Belloc</span>, libraries, +labour unrest, the Great State, and the like—by Mr. <span class="sc">H. G. +Wells</span>, is to be delighted or infuriated according to your +natural habit of mind. If established in tolerable comfort +in a world which you judge, for all its blemishes, to be on +the whole rather well run, you will resent exceedingly this +pert young man (for Mr. <span class="sc">Wells</span> is still astonishingly +young) with his preposterous eagerness, his insane passion +for questioning and tinkering and most unfairly putting +you and your kind in the wrong. You will no doubt find +excellent grounds for doubting his ability to reconstruct; +for suspecting what you will feel to be his pretentious +breadth of view, his assumed omniscience. But if, on the +other hand, thinking life in your sombre moments a nightmare +of imbecility and in your more expansive moments +a high adventure of immeasurable possibilities, you are +straitened between cold despairs and immense hopes, you +will readily forgive this irreverent, self-confident critic-journalist +any crude things he may have said in his haste +for sake of his flashes of perception, his happily descriptive +phrases, his inspiring anticipations, his uncalculating candour, +and above all his generous preoccupation with things +that matter enormously. "What we prosperous people +who have nearly all the good things of life and most of the +opportunities have to do now is to justify ourselves." That +is a sentiment and a challenge repeated or implied throughout +the book. This Englishman looking at his world looks +with quick eyes. He is himself so intensely interested that +he can only fail to interest such as find his whole attitude +an outrage upon their finally adopted convictions and +conventions.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Have you noticed the way in which certain stories bear +the mark of a particular place or period? If ever there was +a novel that vociferated "Cambridge" in every line, <i>The +Making of a Bigot</i> (<span class="sc">Hodder and Stoughton</span>) is that one. +Well indeed may its paper wrapper display a drawing of +King's Chapel, though as a matter of fact only the action +of the first chapter passes in the University town. Miss +<span class="sc">Rose Macaulay</span> has based her story upon a quaintly +attractive theme. Her hero, <i>Eddy Oliver</i>, is a type new to +fiction. <i>Eddy</i> saw good in everything to such an extent +that he allowed himself to be persuaded into active sympathy +with the aims of practically everyone who was aiming at +anything, however mutually irreconcilable the aims might +be. "He went along with all points of view so long as they +were positive; as soon as condemnation or rejection came +in, he broke off." Consequently, as you may imagine, his +career was pleasantly involved. It embraced the Church, +various forms of Socialism, and at one time and another some +devotion to the ideals of Nationalism, Disarmament, Imperial +Service and the Primrose League. But please don't +imagine that all this is told in a spirit of comedy. Miss +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page200" id="page200"></a>[pg 200]</span><span class="sc">Macaulay</span> is, if anything, almost too dry and serious; this, +and her disproportionate affection for the word "rather," +a little impaired my own enjoyment of the book. It contains +some happily sketched types of modernity—all of +them Cambridge to the back-bone; and <i>Eddy's</i> final discovery +(which makes the bigot), that one can't achieve anything +in life without some wholesale hatreds, is genuine +enough—more so than the system of card-cutting by which +he settles his convictions. Miss <span class="sc">Macaulay</span> has already, I +am told, won a thousand pounds with a previous book; +this one proves her the possessor of a gift of originality +that is both rare and refreshing.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>I could imagine a novel with which I could sympathise +deeply, based upon the theme of England's regeneration by +means of the right type of Tory squire, but it would be a +novel with a more credible hero and conceived in a less +petty spirit of party bias than Mr. <span class="sc">H. N. Dickinson</span> has +given us in <i>The Business of a Gentleman</i> (<span class="sc">Heinemann</span>). +For, in the first place, <i>Sir Robert Wilton</i>, who figured of +course in <i>Keddy</i> and <i>Sir Guy +and Lady Rannard</i>—he has, +in fact, by this time married +<i>Marion</i>, late <i>Sir Guy's</i> widow—is +far too jumpy and nervy +a person to fit my ideal of a +paternal landlord, and what +is, after all, more important, I +feel convinced that his tenants +and stable-lads would have +thought the same. Secondly, +I refuse to believe that a +spinster, however soured, +however much devoted to the +cause of Labour and misguided +crusades for social +purity, would have behaved +as <i>Miss Baker</i> does in this +book; and deliberately attempted +to father a false +scandal on <i>Sir Robert</i> merely +because she hated his type. +And if the author replies that +he knows of such an instance I maintain that it was just +one of those things which the art of selection should have +prompted him to leave out. I have, of course, no fault to +find with Mr. <span class="sc">Dickinson's</span> style, which as usual is curiously +simple yet at the same time attractive, nor with his powers +of character-sketching. His schoolboy of seventeen, <i>Eddie +Durwold</i>, is in this book particularly good. It is the things +that these people do that bothers me. And if I might +venture to rename <i>The Business of a Gentleman</i> the title I +should choose is "The Escapade of an Egoist."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Sidney Low</span> has paid some visits to Egypt and the +Sudan, has kept his eyes very wide open and has written +<i>Egypt in Transition</i> (<span class="sc">Smith, Elder</span>) in consequence. The +Earl of <span class="sc">Cromer</span>, who has also been there or thereabouts, +introduces the book to the notice of the public with an +appreciative preface. Am I then in a position to pass +judgment? Yes, I am; for I can claim to be literally more +informed on the subject than most people, having above +my share of friends and relations who have been there. I +have the clearest possible picture of the country—a stretch +of sand, some pyramids in the background, and, in the +centre foreground, smiling enigmatically—not the Sphinx, +but my friend or relation. I at once gave Mr. <span class="sc">Low</span> +five marks out of ten upon discovering that none of his +illustrations reproduced himself on either on or off a camel. +On less personal grounds, I have no scruple in giving him +the remaining five for the vastly interesting facts, political, +international, social and racial, with which he entertained +me. It requires no small skill in a dispenser of such facts +to make them entertaining. Twice only was I minded to +quarrel with him; once when he expressed a general contempt, +based upon one egregious example, for the foreign +exports of Oxford and Cambridge, and again when he got +on to the subject of tourists, who include my nearest and +dearest, and abused them from the standpoint of a "visitor." +In the first case he was absurd, in the second, common-place; +but he made ample compensation for both by his +memorable chapter of "Conclusions," in which he gave me +clearly to understand why East, being East, will never be +joined to West, always West, but yet how the twain have +got within measurable distance of one another.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>There must have been moments when <span class="sc">Napoleon</span> found +St. Helena a little quiet for a man of his temperament; when +the monotony of his life there pressed somewhat hardly +upon him. On these occasions +I like to think of him +saying philosophically to +himself, as he remembered +what Mr. <span class="sc">Rudolf Pickthall</span> +calls "the last phase but +two," "Well, after all, this +isn't Elba. I've got that +much to be thankful for." +In <i>The Comic Kingdom</i> +(<span class="sc">Lane</span>) Mr. <span class="sc">Pickthall</span> shows +how everybody on the island +struggles to make a bit out of +their visitors. Little children +rallied round with posies of +wild flowers, demanding +large sums in payment. +Bogus monks waved crosses +at him, and, if he pretended +not to notice them, rolled in +the dust under his carriage +wheels. There was never a +moment when somebody was +not calling with a bust of the Emperor or Empress, +price three hundred francs. And itinerant bands played +under his windows into the small hours of the morning. +I can imagine him saying, in the words of <span class="sc">Orestes</span>, +"Dis is a dam country." <span class="sc">Orestes</span> was the guide who +conducted Mr. <span class="sc">Pickthall</span> through the island. It revolted +him, but he did it. "I tink we better leave to-morrow," +was a sort of refrain with <span class="sc">Orestes</span>. He had a +poor opinion of Elba, which I for one do not share. +After reading <i>The Comic Kingdom</i> I feel that one of my +coming holidays must be spent climbing its hills and +supplying its thirsty inhabitants with wine. The scenery +is apparently worth while, and the natives appear a friendly +lot. I like their enthusiasm for literature. They turned +out in their hundreds and insisted on Mr. <span class="sc">Pickthall's</span> +standing treat, just because they mistook him for a great +historian. When I tell them I write for <i>Punch</i> they will +be all over me.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href="images/200.png"><img width="100%" src="images/200.png" alt="" /></a><h3>A WORLD'S WORKER.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Lady of title taking lessons in building-construction prior +to performing the ceremony of laying a foundation-stone.</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>From a notice of "The New Standard Dictionary" in +<i>The London Teacher</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The Dictionary is arranged in alphabetical order, thus being a great +time saver, and one can find what is required with the greatest ease."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Otherwise it is so awkward, when you want to know how +to spell "parallel" in a hurry, to have to go through one +volume after another until you come to it.</p> + +<hr /> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Transcriber's Note:<br /> +<br />Changed "there" to "three" in the second to last paragraph +of "At the play" on page 195.</p> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 146, MARCH 11, 1914***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 23726-h.txt or 23726-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/3/7/2/23726">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/7/2/23726</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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