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diff --git a/24157-h/24157-h.htm b/24157-h/24157-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f4d3229 --- /dev/null +++ b/24157-h/24157-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3114 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + + <title>Punch, March 29, 1916.</title> + + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note, .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .drama {margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .drama p {margin: 1em 0em 0em 0em;; padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + .drama p.i2 {margin: 0; margin-left: 1em;} + .drama p.i4 {margin: 0; margin-left: 2em;} + .drama p.i6 {margin: 0; margin-left: 3em;} + .drama p.i8 {margin: 0; margin-left: 4em;} + .drama p.i10 {margin: 0; margin-left: 5em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + .inline {border: none; vertical-align: middle;} + + p.author {text-align: right;} + + .side { float:right; + font-size: 75%; + width: 25%; + padding-left:10px; + border-left: dashed thin; + margin-left: 10px; + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + font-weight: bold; + font-style: italic;} + --> + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Punch, or the London Charivari, May 27, 1914, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, May 27, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 4, 2008 [EBook #24157] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 146.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>May 27, 1914.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page401" id="page401"></a>[pg 401]</span> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + + +<p>We hear that the news of the defeat +of Messrs. <span class="sc">Travers</span>, <span class="sc">Evans</span> ("Chick") +and <span class="sc">Ouimet</span> in the Amateur Golf +Championship was received by President +<span class="sc">Huerta's</span> troops with round upon +round of cheering. Frankly, we think +it rather petty of them.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The statement in <i>The Daily Mail</i> to +the effect that about two million pounds +have been sunk in the new German liner +<i>Vaterland</i> is apt to be misconstrued, +and we are requested to state that the +vessel is still afloat.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>There was a fire at the Press Club +off Fleet Street last week, but we refuse +absolutely to credit the rumour that +this was the work of a member anxious +that his paper should have first news +of the conflagration.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>We came across a flagrant example, +the other day, of an advertisement that +did not speak the truth. Seated on the +top of an omnibus were six persons +with most regrettable faces. Underneath +them was an inscription, which +ran the length of the knife-board:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"<span class="sc">Things we'd like to know.</span>"</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Persons who are hesitating to visit +the Anglo-American Exposition may +like to know that the representation +of New York there is not so realistic +as to be unpleasant.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">A. Kipling Common</span> writes to +<i>The Daily Mail</i> deploring England's +lack of great men. We are sorry that +<i>The Times</i> should be so shy in using +its power to remedy this defect. +Letters from the great are always +printed by our contemporary in large +type. A few promotions might surely +be distributed now and then among +the small-type men?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A friendly intimation is said to have +been conveyed by the Royal Academy +to a restaurant in the immediate neighbourhood +which advertises an Academy +luncheon that its name might with +advantage be changed to one of a nature +less inciting to Suffragettes. We refer +to <span class="sc">Hatchett's</span>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Is cannibalism to be Society's latest +fad? We notice that somebody's +Skin Food is being advertised pretty +freely.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Criterion Restaurant, we see, is +advertising a "<i>Souper Dansant</i>." Personally +we dislike the kind of supper +which, when eaten, will not lie down +and rest.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It looks, we fear, as if in <i>Break the +Walls Down</i> the Savoy Theatre has +not found a play which will <i>Bring the +House Down</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The proposal that a "full blue" +should be awarded at Cambridge to +those who represent the University +at boxing was recently considered but +not adopted. We should have thought +that a "black and blue" would have +been the appropriate thing.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Some idea of the heat last week may +be gathered from the following order +issued by the Cambridge University +Officers' Training Corps:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +INTER-COMPANY COMPETITION.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Dress</span>:—Two pouches will be worn on the +right. +</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A translation is announced of a book +by <span class="sc">August Strindberg</span>, entitled "Fair +Haven and Foul Strand." Those of us +who remember the Strand of twenty +years ago, with its mud baths, will not +consider the epithet too strong.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>There is, we hear, considerable satisfaction +among the animals at the +Zoo at the result of a recent competition +open to readers of <i>The Express</i>. +It has been decided that the ugliest +animal in the collection is the orang-utan, +who resembles a human being +more closely than any other animal.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Meanwhile it has been decided, humanely, +not to break the news to the +orang-utan himself until the weather +gets cooler.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/401.png"><img width="100%" src="images/401.png" alt=""/></a> +<p><i>The Patriarch.</i> "<span class="sc">I don't believe this 'ere about tellin' a +man's character just by lookin' at 'is face. It ain't possible.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page402" id="page402"></a>[pg 402]</span> + + + + +<h2>DE MORTUIS NIL NISI BONUM.</h2> + +<h3><span class="sc">Lines dedicated to the outraged memory of Keats.</span></h3> + +<p>[Two pretty poor sonnets by <span class="sc">Keats</span> have been exposed by a Mr. +<span class="sc">Horner</span> and exploited in facsimile, twice over in one week, by <i>The +Times</i>. In its <i>Literary Supplement</i>, where they made their second +appearance, we are told with cynical candour that "afterwards, when +he had become ashamed of his crowning" (the foolish episode which +is the subject of these two sonnets) <span class="sc">Keats</span> "kept them from publication; +and Reynolds" (the friend to whom he confided them), +"knowing the story, respected his feelings after his death."]</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>What is there in the poet's human lot</p> +<p class="i2">Most beastly loathsome? Haply you will say</p> +<p class="i2">An influenza in the prime of May?</p> +<p>Or haply, nosed in some suburban plot,</p> +<p>The reek of putrid cabbage when it's hot?</p> +<p class="i2">Or, with the game all square and one to play,</p> +<p class="i2">To be defeated by a stymie? Nay,</p> +<p>I know of something worse—I'll tell you what.</p> +<p>It is to have your rotten childish rhymes</p> +<p class="i2">(Rotten as these) dragged from oblivion's shroud</p> +<p class="i4">Where, with the silly act that gave them birth,</p> +<p class="i4">They lay as lie the dead in sacred earth,</p> +<p class="i2">And see them, twice in one week, boomed aloud</p> +<p>To tickle penny readers of <i>The Times</i>.</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>O. S.</p> + +<hr /> + + + +<h2>THE AUDIT.</h2> + +<p>This income of mine, in which the world has suddenly +become so interested, must be calculated from the following +returns of past years, being the figures supplied privately +to Phyllis:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">(1) guineas. £</p> +<p>1911-1912. By fees as specialist 113 By occasional papers</p> +<p class="i10"> in Medical Journals 35</p> +<p>1912-1913. ditto 152 ditto 42</p> +<p>1913-1914. ditto 203 ditto 37</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>(2) My capital is invested in Ordinary Stock, and brings +in anything from £50 to £100 a year, in accordance with +the varying moods of the directors.</p> + +<p>(3) Lastly, I have now bought, out of my earnings, the +freehold of the premises in which I carry on my practice. +In making out a Balance Sheet this item must be regarded +either as a liability or as an asset accordingly as one takes +the dark or the bright view of the position. Either I owe +myself so much a year for rent of the premises, in which +case it is a liability: or else myself owes me so much for +rent, in which case it is an asset. Practically speaking it +doesn't much matter, because it is a bad debt either way.</p> + +<p>Those amongst my (apparently) most intimate friends, +who are money-lenders, do not ask for details. They are +content to assume the worst and hope for the best. Sir +Reginald Hartley and Mr. Charles Dugmore, Assessor of +Taxes, the most interested enquirers, are not, however, +money-lenders.</p> + +<p>Sir Reginald is not naturally an inquisitive man, and his +concern for me, in spite of my frequent appearance at his +table, had hitherto been limited to my services in getting +the port decanter round its circuit. It was I who, when +one evening we were doing this alone, led up to the subject.</p> + +<p>"Sir Reginald," said I.</p> + +<p>He passed the port again, hoping thus to damp down my +conversational powers. I, hoping to stimulate them, +helped myself.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you want now, my boy?" he asked +reluctantly, noting my unsatisfied air.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I should like, Sir," said I, "and that's +a father-in-law. Would you care for the job?"</p> + +<p>Not, I think, entirely with a view to what he himself was +likely to get out of this suggestion, he asked me outright +what I was worth. "I don't think," he suggested, "that +I could very well let my Phyllis marry anyone with less +than five hundred a year, eh?"</p> + +<p>I got out paper and pencil, puckered up my brow, and +worked out a sum. "I am happy to announce," I said +eventually, "that we may put my income on the other side +of that figure."</p> + +<p>To show my <i>bona fides</i>, I set out my sum:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>MY INCOME ('14 to '15): £</p> +<p class="i2">(1) <i>Fees.</i> To estimate this item it is necessary to take actual</p> +<p class="i10"> figures of last three years, which show an annual</p> +<p class="i10"> increase at the rate of about 33%. The '13 to '14</p> +<p class="i10"> figure is 203 guineas; add 33% and you get total</p> +<p class="i10"> for '14 to '15, 284 pounds, say 300</p> +<p class="i2">(2) Add annual value of professional premises, which is 50</p> +<p class="i2">(3) <i>Occasional literature.</i> This is practically a regular</p> +<p class="i10"> stipend, at the fixed figure of (<i>circa</i>) £40. But</p> +<p class="i10"> a happy marriage should promote inspiration.</p> +<p class="i10"> Allowing for same, put this figure at, say. 51</p> +<p class="i2">(4) Interest on Investments, say 100</p> +<p class="i10"> ——-</p> +<p class="i10"> <span class="sc">Grand Total.</span> (E. & O. E.) £501</p> +<p class="i10"> =====</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>These, however, were not the figures I quoted to Charles +Dugmore, A.T.</p> + +<p>There was no port about him, and still less did he wait +for me to introduce the subject. He sent me a sharp note +and gave me twenty-one days to answer, in default of which +he said he would have the law on me. Still, there is a certain +rough kindness even about your Assessor of Taxes; this one +enclosed a slip of paper, which he hoped I wouldn't read, +but which, when I did read it, suggested to me my middle +course of safety. "Work out your income, on lines consistent +with honesty, at less than £160, and you've won," +it said. With the assistance of the advice it gave, I had no +difficulty in doing this; thus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>MY INCOME ('14 to '15):. £</p> +<p class="i2">(1) <i>Trade, Vocation or Profession, A Specialist.</i> To estimate</p> +<p class="i8"> this item it is necessary to take actual figures</p> +<p class="i8"> of last three years, which show an average of</p> +<p class="i8"> 164 pounds. It is difficult to say how much of</p> +<p class="i8"> this will be net profit after making allowance</p> +<p class="i8"> for estimated rental of professional premises</p> +<p class="i8"> and other liabilities, but let us give the Inland</p> +<p class="i8"> Revenue the benefit of the doubt and say 50%.</p> +<p class="i8"> 50% of 164 is 82</p> +<p class="i2">(2) <i>Ditto, Occasional literature</i>. (This is a fluctuating</p> +<p class="i8"> stipend, at the figure of (<i>circa</i>) 35. But one's</p> +<p class="i8"> inspiration gets exhausted. Allowing for same,</p> +<p class="i8"> and for pens, ink and paper, put this figure at 27</p> +<p class="i2">(3) Interest on Investments, say 50</p> +<p class="i10"> ——</p> +<p class="i10"> £159</p> +<p class="i10"> ====</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>Ulster may fight and Mexico may be right; nevertheless +these things are apt to be forgotten when conversation +reverts, as it always does, to My Income.</p> + +<p>The sordid subject came up again for discussion when +Phyllis and I went to have a preliminary chat with the +house-agent.</p> + +<p>"You have spoken with eloquence and conviction about +reception-rooms, out-houses, railway stations, golf courses, +and h. and c.," said I, "but sooner or later some one must +rise and say a few pointed words about Rent."</p> + +<p>"That all depends on what you are prepared to give," he +replied. "The rough-and-ready rule is to fix one's rent at +a tenth of one's income."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but which income?" I asked. "For I have two +incomes and I can't afford a separate house for each."</p> + +<p>He had no formula for my case and I left him a little +later under a cloud of suspicion. Your house-agent is an +ill judge of the subtler forms of humour.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page403" id="page403"></a>[pg 403]</span> + +<h3>THE COALITION TOUCH.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/403.png"><img width="100%" src="images/403.png" alt=""/></a><p><i><span class="sc">Preparing To receive By-election Cavalry.</span></i></p> +<p><span class="sc">Front Rank</span> (<i>to Rear Rank</i>). "I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE ENEMY MAY THINK OF YOUR +PIKE, BUT PERSONALLY IT INCOMMODES ME!"</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page405" id="page405"></a>[pg 405]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/405.png"><img width="100%" src="images/405.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">"Very sorry, Sir; But I'm afraid I've made a small cut on your chin."</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">"Ah! It must have been a sharp patch on the razor."</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE COLONEL TALKS.</h2> + +<p>The great hunter and explorer received +us with profound affability. +Thinner he may be, but his terrible +privations in the perilous back blocks +of Brazil have left his dazzling bonzoline +smile unharmed. Every one of +the powerful two-and-thirty extended a +separate welcome.</p> + +<p>"Sit right down," he said.</p> + +<p>We sat right down.</p> + +<p>"Say, Colonel," we began in the +vernacular, "tell us about the river. +Some river, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"You are right, Sir," he replied. +"It's a river. The Thames, according +to your great statesman, Colonel <span class="sc">Burns</span>, +is 'liquid history;' my river is——"</p> + +<p>"According to <span class="sc">Savage Landor</span>," we +interrupted, "'liquid mystery.'"</p> + +<p>The explorer's face fell. "I will deal +with him later," he said. "Meanwhile +let me tell you, Sir, that this is no +slouch of a river. It has all the necessary +ingredients of a river. It has +banks, and a current. There are fish in +it. Boats and canoes can progress on +its surface. Twenty-three times did I +risk my valuable life in saving boats +and canoes that had got adrift. It has +rapids. Twenty-eight times did I nearly +drown in negotiating them. It has +some ugly snags. The ugliest I have +called 'Wilson,' the next ugliest, +'Bryan.'"</p> + +<p>He stopped for applause and we let +him have it.</p> + +<p>"It was a great discovery of yours," +we said, after he had bowed several +times.</p> + +<p>"No, Sir," he replied, "let us get +that right. It is not my discovery. It +is the discovery of Colonel <span class="sc">Rondor</span>."</p> + +<p>"Well, you keep it among the +colonels anyway," we said.</p> + +<p>"In America, Sir," replied the modern +Columbus—"in G. O. C., by which I +mean God's Own Country—we keep +everything among the colonels. But +to proceed—it is not my discovery. +All that I did was to trace it to its +source in order to put it on the map. +That is my ambition—the crowning +moment of my <i>ex-officio</i> life—to put +this river on the map. It will mean a +boom in South America at last. They +are all out-of-date and new ones must +be made."</p> + +<p>"And what will you call the river?" +I asked.</p> + +<p>"I am not sure," he said. "Some +want it to be known as the 'Roosevelt,' +but that does not please me. The +'Rondor' would be better, or 'The +Two Colonels.' Can you suggest anything?"</p> + +<p>"Why not 'The Sixty-five'?" we +said, "since you lost sixty-five pounds +in your travels."</p> + +<p>"Good," he said. "I will put the +point to Kermet."</p> + +<p>"And is that your only triumph," we +asked—"the river?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," he said. "There is a bird +too. A new bird, about the size of a +turkey."</p> + +<p>"Turkey in Europe or Turkey in +Asia?" we asked.</p> + +<p>He pulled a gun from his belt and +stroked it lovingly. There are moments +when even an interviewer' recognises +the dangers of importunity, and this +was one.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page406" id="page406"></a>[pg 406]</span> + +<h2>ONE OF OUR GREATEST.</h2> + +<h3><span class="sc">An Interview</span>.</h3> + +<p>It was naturally not without difficulty +that I won my way to the presence +of so busy and influential a publicist. +A man who spends his whole time in +instructing the readers of so many +different papers in the delicate art of +discerning the best and ignoring the +rest cannot have much margin for inquisitive +strangers.</p> + +<p>However, I succeeded in penetrating +to his sanctum and, while waiting for +the lion to appear, had an opportunity +to look round. It was severely furnished—obviously +the room of a great +thinker. I noticed on the desk, which +was covered with paper and note-books, a +copy of <span class="sc">Roget's</span> <i>Thesaurus</i> and <span class="sc">Taylor's</span> +<i>Natural History of Enthusiasm</i>. With +two such works one can, of +course, go far. On the wall +were the mottoes, "We +needs must love the highest +when we see it," and +(from <i>The Bellman</i>) "What +I tell you three times is +true." I noticed two portraits +also: one was of a +delightful grande dame who +might have graced a pavane +in the days of <span class="sc">Louis Quinze</span>, +inscribed to her "fellow-worker +in the great cause, +from Madame de <span class="sc">Boccage</span>," +and another was the photograph +of a gay young +Frenchman in English +clothes, signed "To mon +cher colleague from 'is sincere +friend Alphonse." +There were also three telephones +on the table and several typewriters +here and there.</p> + +<p>A moment later the wizard came in—a +tall scholarly-looking figure, with +all the stigmata of the great thinker +beneath one of the highest brows in +Europe.</p> + +<p>"And what," he asked, bowing with +perfect courtesy, "can I do for you?"</p> + +<p>"I have come hoping for the privilege +of an interview," I said.</p> + +<p>"But why," he replied with charming +diffidence, "should you interview +me? Why am I thus honoured?"</p> + +<p>"Because you are a very remarkable +person," I replied. "You are the only +journalist who can contribute the same +articles regularly to <i>The Pall Mall</i>, +<i>The Westminster</i> and I don't know to +how many other papers besides. That +is a feat in itself. You are the only +journalist who always has the same +subject."</p> + +<p>He admitted these fine performances.</p> + +<p>"So I should like to ask you a few +questions," I continued. "The public +is naturally interested in the personality +of so widely read an author. May +I know how you obtained your amazing +command of words? Your fluency?"</p> + +<p>"I have ever made a study of the +finest writers," he said. "From <span class="sc">Moses</span> +to <span class="sc">De Courville</span>, I have read them +all. These studies and constant intercourse +with the brainiest Americans I +can meet have made me what I am."</p> + +<p>"But your certainty in discrimination," +I said—"how did you acquire +that? Most of us are so doubtful of +ourselves."</p> + +<p>"I never am," he replied; "I am +sure. One thing at a time is my theory. +Concentrate on one thing and forget +all the rest. In other words, trust to +elimination. That's what I do. Having +found something that I know to be +good I instantly eliminate all thought +of the existence of rival claimants and +concentrate on that discovery and its +exploitation."</p> + +<p>"Marvellous," I murmured. "And +how do you think of all your variations +on the one stimulating theme?"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said, "that is my secret." +He tapped his massive forehead. "It +wants a bit of doing, but I think I may +say that up to date I have delivered +the goods."</p> + +<p>"You may," I said. "Have you no +assistants?"</p> + +<p>He flushed angrily and I changed +the subject.</p> + +<p>"In your spare time——" I began.</p> + +<p>"I have none," he said. "I want +none."</p> + +<p>"But surely now and then," I urged, +"after office hours?"</p> + +<p>"I never relax," he said. "If I am +not writing I am worshipping. I walk +up and down on the other side of the +street, gazing this way, wondering and +adoring."</p> + +<p>What a man!</p> + +<p>"Now and then," I said, "you puzzle +me a little. The columns in the evening +papers go fairly straight to the +point, but you are not always so direct. +One now and then has to search for +the true purpose of the article."</p> + +<p>He bent his fine brows in perplexity.</p> + +<p>"As when?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said, "those third leaders +in <i>The Times</i>, for example. I often +read them without making perfectly +sure which department of the great +House you are recommending: to which +of its varied activities you are drawing +particular attention."</p> + +<p>He looked more bewildered. "The +third leaders in <i>The Times</i>?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said. "Don't you write +those?"</p> + +<p>"No," he replied with emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Great Heavens!" I said, "I'm +very sorry if I've hurt you. +But I always assumed that +you did."</p> + +<p>The simultaneous ringing +of the three telephones +warned me that my +time was up and I rose to +go.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," he said, +"Good-bye. You know +where to go if you want +anything, don't you? No +matter what it is—ties, +socks, dress—suits, scent, +afternoon tea, civility, perfection. +You know where +to go?"—and he bowed me +out.</p> + +<p>And that is how I met +Callisthenes.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/406.png"><img width="100%" src="images/406.png" alt="" /></a> +<p>"<span class="sc">'Arf a mo, Chawley; let's wait an' see 'im sit down</span>."</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>BLUDYARD.</h2> + +<p><span class="sc">Mr. Rudyard Kipling's</span> few remarks, +made beneath the blue sky of the +Empire at Tunbridge Wells, have not +yet lost their effect. The famous +orator's letter-bag is daily crowded +with communications from total +strangers who have striven in vain to +resist the impulse to tell him what +they think of him and his speech.</p> + +<p>"I understand from the local paper +that you're an author," writes one +correspondent from Haggerston; "if +you can write like you can speak, +your books ought to sell in hundreds."</p> + +<p>"Your speech was quite good," writes +another, "so far as it went; the only +fault I have to find with it is that it +was not strong enough, Sir, not strong +enough. The blackguards!"</p> + +<p>An envelope of pale purple, gently +perfumed, contained that well-known +work (now in its tenth thousand), +"Gentle Words, and How to Use +Them. By Amelia Papp." We understand +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page407" id="page407"></a>[pg 407]</span> +that the receipt of this famous +pamphlet had a tremendous effect upon +Mr. <span class="sc">Kipling</span>.</p> + +<p>The speech has put courage into the +heart of a young literary man known +to us. "I have long yearned to break +away from the weaklings who can do +no more than call a spade a spade," he +said the other day. "I feel that I +now have a master's authority for +doing so. In gratitude I can do no +less than send Mr. <span class="sc">Kipling</span> a copy of +my new book, <i>The Seven D's</i>, when +it is ready."</p> + +<p>"I cannot be too grateful for your +impressive speech," wrote a lady from +Balham. "For many weeks now +I consider that my butcher has been +sending joints that are perfectly disgraceful, +and I have been quite at a loss +to know how to deal with him. But +thanks to your great utterance I was +able to get together just the words I +wanted, and on Tuesday last I sent +him <i>such</i> a letter. You will be glad to +know that Wednesday's shoulder was +excellent."</p> + +<p>An anonymous correspondent, dating +from a temporary address at Limehouse, +has written, "Why don't you +come over on our side? You and I +together could do great things."</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/407.png"><img width="100%" src="images/407.png" alt="" /></a><p> +<span class="sc">According to a scheme suggested by the Royal Statistical Society +everyone should be given a number and an index card at his birth. This +would help the police to trace missing persons, prevent fraudulent +marriages, etc. it would brighten the scheme if everybody was compelled +to wear his number in a conspicuous position, and if a descriptive +catalogue was issued</span>.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE SWEET O' THE YEAR.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Get your summer smocks on, <i>ye</i> little elves and fairies!</p> +<p class="i2">Put your winter ones away in burrows underground—</p> +<p class="i4">Thick leaves and thistledown,</p> +<p class="i4">Rabbit's-fur and missel-down,</p> +<p>Woven in your magic way which no one ever varies,</p> +<p class="i2">Worn in earthy hidey-holes till</p> +<p class="i4">Spring comes round!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Got your summer smocks on! Be clad no more in russet!</p> +<p class="i2">All the flow'rs are fashion-plates and fabrics for your wear—</p> +<p class="i4">Gold and silver gossamer,</p> +<p class="i4">Webs, from every blossomer,</p> +<p>Fragrant and so delicate (with neither seam nor gusset),</p> +<p class="i2">Filmily you spin them, but they will not tear!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Get your summer smocks on, for all the woodland's waking,</p> +<p class="i2">All the glades with green and glow salute you with a shout,</p> +<p class="i4">All the earth is chorussing</p> +<p class="i4">(Hear the Lady Flora sing!—</p> +<p>Her that strews the hyacinths and sets you merry-making),</p> +<p class="i2">Oak and ash do call you and the blackthorn's out!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Get your summer smocks on, for soon's the time of dances</p> +<p class="i2">Soon's the time of junketings and revellers' delights—</p> +<p class="i4">Dances in your pleasaunces</p> +<p class="i4">Where your dainty presence is</p> +<p>Dangerous to mortals mid the moonlight that entrances,</p> +<p class="i2">Dazzling to a mortal eye on hot June nights!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">April</span> 23, 1914.</p> + +<blockquote><p> +350th Anniversary of the birth of William +Makepeace Shakespeare."—<i>Kostenaian.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Oliver Wendell Cromwell, the distinguished +author-politician, was born +much later than the poet-novelist.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page408" id="page408"></a>[pg 408]</span> + +<h2>A HANGING GARDEN IN BABYLON.</h2> + +<p>"Are you taking me to the Flower +Show this afternoon?" asked Celia at +breakfast.</p> + +<p>"No," I said thoughtfully; "no."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's that. What other +breakfast conversation have I? Have +you been to any theatres lately?"</p> + +<p>"Do you really want to go to the +Flower Show?" I asked. "Because I +don't believe I could bear it."</p> + +<p>"I've saved up two shillings."</p> + +<p>"It isn't that—not only that. But +there'll be thousands of people there, +all with gardens of their own, all pointing +to things and saying, 'We've got +one of those in the east bed,' or +'Wouldn't that look nice in the south +orchid house?' and you and I will be +quite, quite out of it." I sighed, and +helped myself from the west toast-rack.</p> + +<p>It is very delightful to have a flat in +London, but there are times in the +summer when I long for a garden of +my own. I show people round our +little place, and I point out hopefully +the Hot Tap Doultonii in the bathroom, +and the Dorothy Perkins loofah, +but it isn't the same thing as taking +your guest round your garden and telling +him that what you really want is +rain. Until I can do that the Chelsea +Flower Show is no place for us.</p> + +<p>"Then I haven't told you the good +news," said Celia. "We <i>are</i> gardeners." +She paused a moment for effect. "I +have ordered a window-box."</p> + +<p>I dropped the marmalade and jumped +up eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Celia, my child," I cried, "this is +glorious news! I haven't been so +excited since I recognised a calceolaria +last year, and told my host it was a +calceolaria just before he told me. +A window-box! What's in it?"</p> + +<p>"Pink geraniums and—and pink +geraniums and—er——"</p> + +<p>"Pink geraniums?" I suggested.</p> + +<p>"Yes. They're very pretty, you +know."</p> + +<p>"I know. But I could have wished +for something more difficult. If we +had something like—well, I don't want +to seem to harp on it, but say calceolarias, +then quite a lot of people +mightn't recognise them, and I should +be able to tell them what they were. +I should be able to show them the +calceolarias; you can't show people +the geraniums."</p> + +<p>"You can say, 'What do you think +of <i>that</i> for a geranium?'" said Celia. +"Anyhow," she added, "you've got to +take me to the Flower Show now."</p> + +<p>"Of course I will. It is not only a +pleasure, but a duty. As gardeners +we must keep up with floricultural +progress. Even though we start with +pink geraniums now, we may have—er, +calceolarias next year. Rotation +of crops and—and what not."</p> + +<p>Accordingly we made our way in +the afternoon to the Show.</p> + +<p>"I think we're a little over-dressed," +I said as we paid our shillings. "We +ought to look as if we'd just run up +from our little window-box in the +country and were going back by the +last train. I should be in gaiters, +really."</p> + +<p>"Our little window-box is not in the +country," objected Celia. "It's what +you might call a—a <i>pied de terre</i> in +town. French joke," she added kindly. +"Much more difficult than the ordinary +sort."</p> + +<p>"Don't forget it; we can always use +it again on visitors. Now what shall +we look at first?"</p> + +<p>"The flowers first; then the tea."</p> + +<p>I had bought a catalogue and was +scanning it rapidly.</p> + +<p>"We don't want flowers," I said. +"Our window-box—our garden is +already full. It may be that James, +the head boxer, has overdone the pink +geraniums this year, but there it is. +We can sack him and promote Thomas, +but the mischief is done. Luckily there +are other things we want. What about +a dove-cot? I should like to see doves +cooing round our geraniums."</p> + +<p>"Aren't dove-cots very big for a +window-box?"</p> + +<p>"We could get a small one—for small +doves. Do you have to buy the doves +too, or do they just come? I never +know. Or there," I broke off suddenly; +"my dear, that's just the thing." And +I pointed with my stick.</p> + +<p>"We have seven clocks already," +said Celia.</p> + +<p>"But a sun-dial! How romantic. +Particularly as only two of the clocks +go. Celia, if you'd let me have a sundial +in my window-box, I would meet +you by it alone sometimes."</p> + +<p>"It sounds lovely," she said doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"You do want to make this window-box +a success, don't you?" I asked as +we wandered on. "Well, then, help +me to buy something for it. I don't +suggest one of those," and I pointed to +a summer-house, "or even a weather-cock; +but we must do something now +we're here. For instance, what about +one of these patent extension ladders, in +case the geraniums grow very tall and +you want to climb up and smell them? +Or would you rather have some mushroom +spawn? I would get up early +and pick the mushrooms for breakfast. +What do you think?"</p> + +<p>"I think it's too hot for anything, +and I must sit down. Is this seat an +exhibit or is it meant for sitting on?"</p> + +<p>"It's an exhibit, but we might easily +want to buy one some day, when our +window-box gets bigger. Let's try it."</p> + +<p>It was so hot that I think, if the man +in charge of the Rustic Bench Section +had tried to move us on, we should +have bought the seat at once. But +nobody bothered us. Indeed it was +quite obvious that the news that we +owned a large window-box had not yet +got about.</p> + +<p>"I shall leave you here," I said after +I had smoked a cigarette and dipped +into the catalogue again, "and make +my purchase. It will be quite inexpensive; +indeed, it is marked in the +catalogue at one-and-sixpence, which +means that they will probably offer me +the nine-shilling size first. But I shall +be firm. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>I went and bought one and returned +to her with it.</p> + +<p>"No, not now," I said, as she held +out her hand eagerly. "Wait till we +get home."</p> + +<p>It was cooler now, and we wandered +through the tents, chatting patronisingly +to the stall-keeper whenever we +came to pink geraniums. At the +orchids we were contemptuously sniffy. +"Of course," I said, "for those who +<i>like</i> orchids——" and led the way back +to the geraniums again. It was an +interesting afternoon.</p> + +<p>And to our great joy the window-box +was in position when we got home +again.</p> + +<p>"Now!" I said dramatically, and I +unwrapped my purchase and placed it +in the middle of our new-made garden.</p> + +<p>"Whatever——"</p> + +<p>"A slug-trap," I explained proudly.</p> + +<p>"But how could slugs get up here?" +asked Celia in surprise.</p> + +<p>"How do slugs got anywhere? They +climb up the walls, or they come up in +the lift, or they get blown about by the +wind—I don't know. They can fly up +if they like; but, however it be, when +they do come, I mean to be ready for +them."</p> + +<p>Still, though our slug-trap will no +doubt come in usefully, it is not what +we really want. What we gardeners +really want is rain.</p> + +<p>A. A. M.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>The Tandem.</h2> + +<blockquote><p> +"The winner was Mr. E. Williams, on an +A. J. S. machine, while, on the same machine, +Mr. C. Williams finished second."</p> + +<p><i>Liverpool Evening Express.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>He should have insisted on the front +seat at the start, and then he might +have finished first.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Wanted immediately, experienced pressers +for ladies' waists."</p> + +<p><i>Advt. in "Montreal Daily Star</i>." +</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="sc">Don Juan</span>, forward.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page409" id="page409"></a>[pg 409]</span> + +<h2>NOT TO BE CAUGHT.</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/409.png"><img width="100%" src="images/409.png" alt="" /></a> + +<p><i>Mathematical Master</i> (<i>after carefully explaining new rule</i>). +<span class="sc">"Well, Tertius, and what is four per cent. on £5?"</span></p> + +<p><i>Tertius.</i> <span class="sc">"Ten shillings</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Mathematical Master.</i> "<span class="sc">No, no.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Tertius.</i> <span class="sc">"Five shillings</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Mathematical Master.</i> <span class="sc">"No!"</span></p> + +<p><i>Tertius.</i> "<span class="sc">Half-a-crown</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Mathematical Master.</i> <span class="sc">"Now, Tertius, it's no use guessing; +just think. I'll give you half-a-minute to pull yourself together."</span> +(<i>After interval of half-a-minute</i>) <span class="sc">"Well</span>?"</p> + +<p><i>Tertius</i> (<i>with confidence</i>). "<span class="sc">Please, Sir, there isn't one</span>."</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>DRASTIC REFORM OF SCHOOLS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="sc">Remarkable Speech</span>.</h3> + +<p>Owing to the ruthless condensation +of the Parliamentary Reports in the +daily Press, no mention was made of +Mr. Alfred Dunstanley's motion last +Thursday, under the ten-minutes rule, +for leave to bring in his Bill for the +Reform of Public Schools. That omission +we are now able to make good, +thanks to the enterprise of a correspondent +who was present during the +debate in the Strangers' Gallery.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dunstanley remarked that he +was not prompted by any animosity +to our public schools and did not +propose to exterminate or annihilate +them. But he was convinced that in +the best interests of the nation they +ought to be purged of the excrescences +and anomalies which militated against +their utility. The Bill accordingly provided +that, pending the extinction of +the hereditary peerage, peers or peers' +sons, if they insisted on going to +public schools, should be carefully +segregated and kept in a state of +perpetual coventry. It was not advisable +that the healthy sons of our +democracy should associate with those +effete and tainted aristocrats. The +Bill stopped short of sending them to +the lethal chamber, but recommended +that they should pay triple fees.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dunstanley explained that he +had no feeling against titled persons +as individuals. But the facts were +against them. Thus the word viscount +was in Latin vice-comes, in itself a +terrible admission. Again, baronets +were almost invariably depicted in +lurid colours by the best novelists. +In short their presence at our public +schools could not be safely tolerated, +as even the children of good Radicals +were not immune to the danger of +snobbery and sycophancy. The Bill +also provided for compulsory vegetarian +diet and the abolition of all cadet +corps, rifle-shooting and caning.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dunstanley concluded by observing +that it pained him to bring forward +this motion, as he had many friends who +had been born in the purple, and some +had survived the demoralising influences +involved in their birth, but he felt it +his solemn duty to lodge a practical +protest against the fetish worship of +rank and wealth and war, which, in +the opinion of his great-headed colleague, +Mr. <span class="sc">John Ward</span>, was ruining +the country.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>From a letter to <i>The Accrington +Gazette</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"I do hope that the Accrington Town +Council will read, mark, learn this epistle and +lay these precepts to their hearts, which in +Latin I will quote: 'Quod Hoc Sibi Vult.' +It means that the exposed food stuffs will not +only be impregnated with the volcanic like +dust representing the cremated remnant of +the town's horrible organic refuse, but will +also be tainted with the smell that tastes." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Our contemporary's correspondent +would have pleased our old Sixth Form +Master, who was always complaining +that our translations did not bring out +the <i>full</i> meaning of the passage.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"<span class="sc">Great Pictures under the Hammer</span>."</p> + +<p><i>The Times.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>The Suffragettes continue to be busy.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Who shall say howqztNj wodrmf."</p> + +<p><i>Manchester Daily Dispatch.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Who wants to?</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page410" id="page410"></a>[pg 410]</span> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/410.png"><img width="100%" src="images/410.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">"And so you are really going to be married next +month, my dear. Well, I think your future husband seems a charming man. +By-the-by, what does he do?".</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">"Oh—er—well—er—d'you know, I really haven't had time to ask him; +but I expect Papa could tell you if you particularly want to +know."</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>INSPIRATION.</h2> + +<h3>(<i>A Suburban Rhapsody.</i>)</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>I said, "Within the garden trimly bordered,</p> +<p class="i2">Assisted by the merle, I mean to woo</p> +<p>The Heavenly Nine, by young Apollo wardered,"</p> +<p class="i2">And Araminta answered, "Yes, dear, do.</p> +<p>The deck chair's in the outhouse; lunch is ordered</p> +<p class="i6">For twenty-five to two."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I sat within the garden's island summer</p> +<p class="i2">And heard far off the shunting of the trains,</p> +<p>Noises of wheels, and speech of every comer</p> +<p class="i2">Passing the entrance—heard the man of brains</p> +<p>Talking of <span class="sc">George's</span> Budget, heard the plumber</p> +<p class="i6">Planning new leaks for drains.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>These things did not disturb me. Through the fencing</p> +<p class="i2">I liked to bear in mind that men less free</p> +<p>Must toil and tramp, whilst I was just commencing</p> +<p class="i2">To court the Muses, foolscap on my knee,</p> +<p>Helped by the sweet bird in the shade-dispensing</p> +<p class="i6">Something-or-other tree.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I wrote: "Ah, who would be where rough men jostle</p> +<p class="i2">In dust and grime, like porkers at a trough.</p> +<p>When, here is May and May-time's blest apostle——"</p> +<p class="i2">Just then, without preliminary cough,</p> +<p>Suddenly, ere I knew, the actual throstle,</p> +<p class="i6">Tee'd up and started off.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>It drowned the distant noise of motor-'buses,</p> +<p class="i2">It drowned the shunting trains, the traffic's roar,</p> +<p>The milk, the bread, the meat, the tradesmen's fusses,</p> +<p class="i2">And the long secret tale told o'er and o'er</p> +<p>That all day long Eliza Jane discusses</p> +<p class="i6">With the new girl next door.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>So sweetly the bird sang. Great thrills went through it.</p> +<p class="i2">It seemed to say, "The glorious sun hath shone,</p> +<p>Flooding the world like treacle wrapped round suet;</p> +<p class="i2">Why should we harp of age and dull years gone?"</p> +<p>Time seemed to be no sort of object to it—</p> +<p class="i6">It just went on and on.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Therefore I rose, and later (o'er the trifle),</p> +<p class="i2">When Araminta with her tactful gush</p> +<p>Asked if the garden seemed to help or stifle</p> +<p class="i2">The Muses' output, I responded, "Tush;</p> +<p>When you go out, my dear, please buy a rifle;</p> +<p class="i6">I want to shoot that thrush."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Evoe</span>.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p>Seen in a Birmingham shop window:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +<span class="sc">"The Smartest Flannel Trouser in the City, 6/11."</span> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>If he had another one, even though not quite so smart, +we might consider it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The world's longest and most accurate golf ball."—<i>Advt.</i> +</p></blockquote> + + +<p>Personally we prefer the short ones when it comes to +putting them into the tin.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page411" id="page411"></a>[pg 411]</span> + +<h3>THE AMENDING BILL.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/411.png"><img width="100%" src="images/411.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Mr. Redmond</span>. "WELL RIDDEN!"</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Mr. Asquith</span>. "YES, I KNOW; BUT AS WE CAME ROUND THE CORNER AN 'OBJECTION' +OCCURRED TO ME, AND I FEEL BOUND TO LODGE IT MYSELF. I HOPE YOU WON'T MIND."</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page413" id="page413"></a>[pg 413]</span> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<h3>(<span class="sc">Extracted from the Diary of Toby, M.P.</span>)</h3> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, May 18.</i>—Field-Marshal +<span class="sc">Asquith</span>, on military +duty in attendance on the <span class="sc">King</span> at +Aldershot. Takes opportunity to give +<span class="sc">His Majesty</span> a few hints on the +setting of a squadron in the field. In +his absence depression customary on +reassembling after week-end recess +asserts itself with increased force. +Through early portion of Question-hour +benches half empty. As hands of +clock approached the mark 2.45, stream +of arrivals increased in volume. At conclusion +of Questions House so densely +crowded that side galleries were invaded, +and group of Members stood at +Bar.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/413a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/413a.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Mr. Lloyd George and the Welsh +Disestablishment Bill.</span></p> + +<p>"For the rest it was the same grinding out +of barrel-organ tunes that has been going on +these three years."</p></div> + +<p>Strangers in Gallery rubbed their +eyes and asked what this might portend? +Explanation simple. Within +limit of Question-hour no division may +take place. As soon as boundary passed +danger zone for Ministerialists entered. +Last week Opposition snapped a division +at earliest possible moment and nearly +cornered Government. To-day at least +two divisions on Welsh Church Bill +imminent. Ministerialists, obedient to +urgent Whip, in their places in good +time. When divisions were called—one +on report of financial resolution of +Welsh Church Bill, the other closing +Committee stage—298 voted with +Government against 204 for rejection +of motion. By rare coincidence figures +in both divisions were exactly the same, +re-establishing Government majority at +94.</p> + +<p>This done, Members trooped out in +battalions, leaving <span class="sc">Hume Williams</span> to +spend on wooden intelligence of +empty benches able argument +in support of motion +for rejection of Bill at Third +Reading stage. Lifeless debate +temporarily uplifted by +speech of simple eloquence +from <span class="sc">William Jones</span>, who, +after long interval, breaks +the silence imposed upon a +Whip. Quickly gathering +audience listened from both +sides with obvious pleasure +to a speech which, as +<span class="sc">Stuart-Wortley</span> said, was +"marked by real fervour +and manifest sincerity." +We have not so many +natural orators in present +House that we can with +indifference see given up +to the drudgery of the +Whips' room what was +meant for mankind.</p> + +<p>One passage, a sort of +aside, brought tears to eyes +of case-hardened section of the audience +seated in Press Gallery. They +furtively dropped when Member for +Carnarvon described how, a small +boy visiting the Strangers' Gallery, he +found seated there "a saintly Pressman, +a frail and fragile figure in bad health, +who wrote weekly letters to the Welsh +<i>Baner</i>. I saw him," he added, "at +lucid intervals, writing his letters."</p> + +<p>House loudly laughed at picture thus +graphically drawn. Pressmen, not +essentially saintly, know how desirable +is the accessory of lucid intervals for +the writing of London Letters.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Under Procedure +Resolution agreed to last week Welsh +Church Disestablishment Bill carried +through Committee as quickly as Chairman +could put formal motion. Debate +opened on Third Reading.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—"I rejoice," said <span class="sc">F. E. +Smith</span>, rising at ten o'clock in half +empty House to support motion for +rejection of Welsh Church Bill on +Third Reading stage, "that debates on +this measure are approaching termination. +We are all driven to make the +same speeches over again and to cite +old illustrations of the insane constitution +under which we live."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/413b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/413b.png" alt=""/></a><p>A PASSIVE RESISTER.</p> + +<p>"Let degenerate Irishmen, suborned by bargain with a Saxon Government, +go forth to save it in the Division Lobby."</p> + +<p>(Mr. <span class="sc">William O'Brien.</span>)</p></div> + +<p>This frank admission of the inutility +of stretching debate over two sittings +not agreeable to feelings of those responsible +for weary waste of time. All +the same, lamentably true.</p> + +<p>Only impulse of vitality given to proceedings +came from speech of <span class="sc">George +Cave</span>. Member for Kingston does not +frequently interpose in debate. Long +intervals of silence give him opportunity +of garnering something worth saying, +a rule of Parliamentary life that might +be recommended to the attention of +some who shall here be nameless. For +the rest it was the same grinding out +of barrel-organ tunes in varied keys +that has been going on these three +years. <span class="sc">McKenna</span> gave touch of originality +to his remarks in winding up +debate by avoiding reference to the late +<span class="sc">Giraldus Cambrensis</span>. Thus momentarily +refreshed, Members gratefully went +out to Division Lobby, and Third Reading +was carried by majority of 77.</p> + +<p>In two other divisions concerning +Welsh Church Bill taken yesterday, +what the late Mr. <span class="sc">G. P. R. James</span> if he +were starting a new novel would describe +as a solitary figure—"a +solitary horseman" was, +to be precise, the consecrated +phrase—might have been +observed sitting in corner +seat below Gangway on +Opposition side. It was +<span class="sc">William O'Brien</span> assuming +the attitude of passive resister +to a measure which, +in respect of an established +Church that national feeling +regards as alien, proposes to +do for Wales what nearly +half a century ago <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> +did for Ireland. In +Parliamentary parlance, +"the hon. Member in +possession of the House" is +the gentleman on his legs +addressing the <span class="sc">Speaker</span>. +Whilst a crowd of Members +streamed out, some into the +"Aye" Lobby, others into +the "No," <span class="sc">William O'Brien</span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page414" id="page414"></a>[pg 414]</span> +remained seated, for a moment or two +literally the Member in possession of +the House.</p> + +<p>Let degenerate Irishmen, suborned +by bargain with a Saxon Government, +go forth to save it in the Division +Lobby. Sea-green (with envy of <span class="sc">John +Redmond</span>, whose name will, after all, +be imperishably connected with the +final success of a National movement +inaugurated forty years ago by <span class="sc">Isaac +Butt</span>) incorruptible, <span class="sc">William O'Brien</span> +thus protested against a course of events +he has been unable to control. To those +who remember his fierce eloquence in +past years dominating a hostile audience +there was something pathetic in +the spectacle.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Welsh Church +Disestablishment Bill read third +time. Sent on to meet predestined +fate in Lords.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—Quite lively goings +on. House met to open debate +on Third Reading of Home Rule +Bill, at special desire of Opposition +to be extended over three +sittings. <span class="sc">Campbell</span> had given +notice of intention to move +rejection. Everything pointed to +long dreary evening, the serving-up +of that "thrice boiled cole-wort" +which <span class="sc">Carlyle</span> honestly +believed to form the principal +dish in the House of Commons +shilling dinner.</p> + +<p>Expected that <span class="sc">Premier</span> would +indicate purport and scope of +promised Bill amending an Act +not yet added to Statute Book. +Questioned on subject he announced +that Bill will be introduced +in the Lords. Judged by +ordinary business tactics this +seemed a reasonable arrangement. +On return from Whitsun +holidays the Lords will find +Home Rule Bill at their disposal. +Do not conceal intention of +throwing it out on Second Reading. +Whereupon, Parliament Act stepping +in, it will be added to Statute Book. +Meanwhile Lords, having no other +business on hand, might devote their +time to consideration of that settlement +of Ulster question which all parties +speak of as their heart's desire.</p> + +<p>House of Commons is, however, +above consideration of ordinary business +ways. Announcement of Ministerial +intention with respect to Amending +Bill raised clamour worthy of +our best traditions. Poor <span class="sc">Campbell</span> +getting up to perform appointed task +was greeted by his own friends with +stormy cries for adjournment. For full +five minutes he stood at Table, with +nervous fingers rapping a tune on lid +of brass-bound box.</p> + +<p>"What's he playing, do you think?" +<span class="sc">Winterton</span> asked <span class="sc">Rowland Hunt</span>.</p> + +<p>"As far as I can make out," said +the Man for Shropshire, "it's 'The +Campbells are Coming.'"</p> + +<p>"By Jove, they shan't come," said +<span class="sc">Winterton</span>, who was in his element +(hot water). "'Journ! 'Journ! Journ!" +he shouted, leading again the storm of +interruption that prevented a word +being heard from <span class="sc">Campbell</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Speaker</span> at end of five minutes asked +<span class="sc">Bonner Law</span> whether this refusal of +the Opposition to hear one of their +leaders met with his assent and approval? +<span class="sc">Bonner Law</span> haughtily refused +to answer. <span class="sc">Winterton</span> and +<span class="sc">Kinloch Cooke</span> more delighted than +ever. Uproar growing, the <span class="sc">Speaker</span> +declared sitting suspended and left the +Chair.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/414.png"><img width="100%" src="images/414.png" alt=""/></a><p>"MORITHURI TE SALUTHAMUS."</p> + +<p>"In regard to the Home Rule Bill, the position of himself +and his friends was, 'We who are about to die salute +thee.'"—<i><span class="sc">Mr. Tim Healy</span></i>.</p></div> + +<p>A critical moment. So high did angry +passion run that there might have +been repetition of the famous fisticuffs +on floor of House that marked progress +of first Home Rule Bill. Ominous +sign when <span class="sc">Royds</span> of Sleaford, ordinarily +mildest-mannered of men, rushed between +Front Opposition Bench and +Table and shook a minatory forefinger +at <span class="sc">Asquith</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Premier</span> only smiled. Happily his +indifferent good humour prevailed on +his own side. There was interchange +of acrid compliments as parties joined +each other on the way out. But +nothing more happened, except that +<span class="sc">Hasleton</span> and another Irish Nationalist, +passing empty chair of <span class="sc">Sergeant-at-Arms</span>, +lit, the one a pipe, the other +a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Shocking!" cried an outraged +Member of the old school.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said <span class="sc">Sark</span>. "When +the House of Commons is enlivened by +pot-house manners there is surely no +harm in two customers lighting up as +they pass out."</p> + +<p><i>Business.</i>—Outbreak of disorder, +<span class="sc">Speaker</span> suspends sitting.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>BUYING A PIANO.</h2> + +<p>I had often thought I should +like to possess a really good +piano—not one of those dumpy +vertical instruments, but a big +flat one with a long tail. For +a long time I hesitated between +a Rolls Royce, a Yost, a Veuve +Cliquot, and a Thurston. At +last I put the problem to a +musical friend. He said:</p> + +<p>"It's a piano you want, not +a motor-typewriting-champagne-table? +Very good, then. You go +to Steinbech's in Wigram Street. +They'll fix you up. Mention my +name if you like."</p> + +<p>"What'll happen to me if I +do?"</p> + +<p>"They'll sell you a piano. +That's what you want, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>So I went. I told the man +at Steinbech's that I believed +they sold pianos. He said that +my belief was not without foundation, +but that, in any case, they +would be prepared to stretch a +point in my favour and sell me +one. What sort did I require?</p> + +<p>"A big flat one with a long +tail," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you want a full concert-grand? +Then kindly step into our +show-room, Sir. Now, this one," he +said, indicating a handsome brunette, +"is a magnificent piano. Best workmanship +and superior materials employed +throughout. Splendid tone and +light touch. Price, one hundred guineas. +Examine it; try it for yourself, Sir." +And he opened the keyboard as he +spoke.</p> + +<p>"Er—what order are the notes +arranged in?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"In strict alphabetical order," he +answered. "A, B, C, and so on."</p> + +<p>"You must excuse my asking the +question," I went on, "but the fact is +I've never seen a Steinbech before. I +thought perhaps that different makers +adopted different arrangements of the +notes, as makers of typewriters do. +Now, will this piano play <span class="sc">Beethoven</span>? +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page415" id="page415"></a>[pg 415]</span> +I particularly want a piano that will play +the 'Moonlight' and the 'Waldstein.'"</p> + +<p>"You're not thinking of a <i>pianola</i>, +Sir, are you?"</p> + +<p>"No," I replied, "I am not. I have +no sympathy with music that looks +like a Gruyère cheese. The music I +want my piano to play is the ordinary +printed kind—black-currants and stalks +and that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"Well, Sir, you will find that this +piano is specially adapted for playing +all kinds of printed music. Music in +manuscript may also be rendered upon +it."</p> + +<p>"That's one point settled then," I +said. "Now, if you will kindly prize +the lid off, I should like to look at the +works."</p> + +<p>He lifted the lid and propped it up +with a short billiard-cue which fitted +into a notch. All danger of sudden +decapitation having been removed, I +put my head inside.</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" I cried. "What's this +harp doing in here? Doesn't it get in +the way?"</p> + +<p>"That is not a harp, Sir; that is +part of the mechanism—the wires, you +know."</p> + +<p>I plucked a few of them, and they +gave forth a pleasing sound. So I +plucked some more.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said decidedly, "I like +the rigging very much. And now +perhaps you will be good enough to +tell me what those two foot-clutches +are for, which I noticed underneath +the keyboard. I suppose they are the +brake and the reversing-gear?"</p> + +<p>I was wrong. The man expounded +their true functions to me. Then I +said, "I should just like to examine it +underneath, if you wouldn't mind turning +it on its back."</p> + +<p>The fellow told me that it was +unnecessary and unusual—that I had +seen all there was to see. This made +me suspicious. I was certain he was +trying to conceal some radical defect +from me. So I made up my mind to +see for myself. I took off my coat and +crawled underneath. As I suspected, +I found two large round holes in the +flooring. When I had finished rubbing +my head, I drew the man's attention +to them. He was able to give a more +or less reasonable excuse for them. I +forget what he said they were—ventilators, +I think.</p> + +<p>He concluded by saying that the +instrument would be certain to give +me the utmost satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"You would not recommend my +having a more expensive one?" I +asked. "A Stradivarius, or a Benvenuto +Cellini?"</p> + +<p>He thought not; so we clinched the +deal.</p> + +<p>"I think," I said, as I handed him +my cheque, "that I should like my +name-plate fixed on it somewhere—say, +on one of the end notes that I +shall never use."</p> + +<p>But he advised me against this. +None of the players handicapped at +scratch ever thought of such a thing.</p> + +<p>"Very well," I said. "Just wrap it +up for me, and I'll——"</p> + +<p>"Hadn't we better send it for you," +he suggested, "in one of our vans, in +charge of our own men?"</p> + +<p>"Just so," I agreed. "Good morning."</p> + +<p>The piano duly arrived, and when we +had taken the drawing-room door out +of its socket and demolished a large +portion of two walls, they got it in—just +in. With care I can squeeze into +the room. However, I am happy, +though crowded, for I have achieved +my heart's desire.</p> + +<p>It has been with me a year now. I +must soon think of learning to play it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE PARAFFIN HABIT.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/415.png"><img width="100%" src="images/415.png" alt="" /></a> +<p>(<i>Doctors generally are prescribing refined paraffin for various ailments.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Mistress.</i> <span class="sc">"The oil finished again, Mary? it seems to go very quickly</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Cook.</i> <span class="sc">"It's the Master, Mum. Whenever 'e runs out of 'is 'refined' 'e comes +a-dipping into this 'ere."</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>The New Dramatist.</h3> + +<p>From "Books Received" in <i>The +Daily Chronicle</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"Misalliance, The Dark Lady of the Sonnets +and Fanny's First Play; with a Treatise +on Parents and Children, by Bernard +Constable, 6s." +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Ouimet was born at Brookline.... As +his name rather suggests, his parents were +French Canadians, who moved to Brookline +from Montreal."—<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>It seems a great deal for the name to +suggest.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page416" id="page416"></a>[pg 416]</span> + +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> + +<h3><span class="sc">"The Great Gamble."</span></h3> + +<p>A man who elopes with his friend's wife +cannot fairly expect to command general +sympathy when, sooner or later, he has +to pay the claims of offended morality. +Yet one could not help being a little +sorry for <i>Colonel Herrick</i>, the leading +delinquent in Mr. <span class="sc">Jerome's</span> play. For +scarcely had they started for the Continent +from Charing Cross (to be precise, +the train was passing through Chislehurst) +when the lady suddenly repented +of her rash act and burst into unassuageable +tears. If, on reaching Dover, +he had had the happy thought of +despatching her back to her home as +unaccompanied baggage, he +would have saved himself a +vast deal of trouble. But, +being a soldier, he set his +teeth and went forward, and +for eight days she made the +hotels of Europe ring with +her lamentations. Nor was +this his only source of discomfort. +Though, for convenience, +they appeared in the +visitors' books as man and +wife, the lady's attitude compelled +the maintenance of +platonic relations, and, whereas +in actual life this would +merely have meant that he +had to occupy a separate +bedroom, in Mr. <span class="sc">Jerome's</span> +vision of things as they might +be it meant that he had to +sleep in the bath-room.</p> + +<p>It will be readily understood +that, to <i>The Colonel</i>, +the advent of the infuriated +husband was of the nature +of a relief. Thanks to the +intervention of a large assortment +of friends, and after +assurance given of the lady's technical +retention of her virtue, he agrees to +take her back if she cares to rejoin +him. It is true that before the happy +conclusion, so satisfactory to <i>The +Colonel</i>, is reached, a duel <i>manqué</i> is +interposed; but this is designed for the +sole benefit of the audience and does +not affect the result.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the lady adopts an +enigmatic behaviour. On the appearance +of her husband she exchanges the +black dress of remorse for the gay +yellow garb of a mind at ease; yet +under his very nose she permits herself +to exhibit a very intimate delight +in <i>The Colonel's</i> more obvious attractions. +So cryptic indeed is her conduct +(both for us and her friends) that it is +arranged that her choice between the +two men shall be decided by the test +of a dream. In consequence, however, +of an attack of insomnia this dream (like +the duel) fails to come off and shortly +after midnight her waking doubts are +resolved in her husband's favour.</p> + +<p>It will be seen that, the stuff of Mr. +<span class="sc">Jerome's</span> play is sufficiently fatuous; +but Mr. <span class="sc">Edmund Maurice</span> as <i>The +Colonel</i> was always amusing, and in +the multitude of counsellors there was +merriment. Unfortunately Mr. <span class="sc">Stanley +Cooke</span>, as a <i>Herr Professor</i> and leader of +the chorus, did not quite succeed in +executing his share of the fun.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/416.png"><img width="100%" src="images/416.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">How Unhappy could I be with Either!</span></p> + +<p><i>The Husband</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Michael Sherebrooke</span>,</p> +<p><i>The Wife</i> Miss <span class="sc">Sarah Brooke</span>.</p> +<p><i>The Colonel</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Edmund Maurice</span>.</p></div> + +<p>The farce was varied by a very amateur +romance as between a young +American and the niece of an hotel-keeper; +also by a slab of melodrama +(dealing with the girl's parentage) +which only escaped from pure banality +by the too brief glimpse it gave us of +that admirable actress, Miss <span class="sc">Ruth +Mackay</span>.</p> + +<p>The scene (perhaps the best part of +the whole show) was laid in "An +Ancient Grove" adjacent to a German +University. (The catalogue, peculiarly +reticent about proper names, offers +my memory no refreshment.) This +"Ancient Grove," unchanged throughout +the play, served a number of useful +purposes. It made excuse for the +intermittent apparition (otherwise inexplicable) +of a little woodland figure +that played upon a pipe. Its proximity +to an hotel afforded occasion for meal +after meal <i>en plein air</i>. Its proximity +to a University Town encouraged the +frequent passage of German students, +vivacious and vocal; also the convenient +appearance of any foreign resident or +visitor at a moment's notice. Its +Statue of Venus (fully draped) afforded +an authentic incitement to the making of +love. Its environs enabled Mr. <span class="sc">Jerome</span> +to dispose of his puppets whenever their +presence became undesirable. They +simply said, "Let us stroll in the woods;" +or "Come for a walk with me," and +he was rid of them. Finally the +"Ancient Grove" contained a central +patch of boscage in whose cover one of +the duellists, arriving on the <i>terrain</i> a +little before the time, remained <i>perdu</i> in +slumber, undisturbed by a loud conversation +carried on within a few feet of +him by all the other parties to the +combat.</p> + +<p>Indeed the scenery put in some good +work, and I really don't know +what we should have done +without it.</p> + +<p><i>The Great Gamble</i> was, of +course, the lottery of marriage. +But for some of us it meant +the risk we ran in attending +the first night of a play by +Mr. <span class="sc">Jerome</span> after our bitter +experience of his <i>Rowena in +Search of a Father</i>. To say +that his present work is an +improvement upon his last +would be to damn it with a +fainter praise than it deserves. +<i>The Great Gamble</i> +is a strange and inscrutable +medley, but it has its exhilarating +moments, and the +humour of its dialogue, +though it is mitigated by +the Professor's contributions, +is worthy of a much better +design.</p> + +<p>O. S.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Now that Miss Cecil Leitch +has won the Ladies' Golf Championship +after seven years' unsuccessful +striving, it may be +suggested that she might alter the spelling of +her name to Leach. Just to show how she +stuck to it!"—<i>Glasgow Evening News.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>The writer should have stuck to his +dictionary.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"It was officially stated yesterday that Dr. +Herbert William Moxon, the son of a former +prominent Unionist in West Derbyshire, had +consented to address a meeting of Liberals +with a view to his adaptation as Liberal +candidate for West Derbyshire."</p> + +<p><i>Daily Mail.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>These adaptable politicians.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Mr. Palmer would still deserve to be +crowned with unfading laurels."—<i>Times.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="sc">Palmer</span> <i>qui meruit ferat</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>Latest Cannibal News.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +"Djaraboub ordinarily contains only 350 +inhabitants but these are swollen by pilgrims."</p> + +<p><i>Siam Observer.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page417" id="page417"></a>[pg 417]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/417.png"><img width="100%" src="images/417.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><i>First Jack Tar Abroad</i> (<i>to second, very "busy riding"</i>). "<span class="sc">'Ulloa, Bill; looks like yer workin' yer passage.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Bill.</i> "<span class="sc">Yuss; 'ad bloomin' rough weather, too; but it's all right if ye 'old on to this 'ere forestay</span>."</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>VERY MUCH GREATER LONDON.</h2> + +<h3>[<i>One result of the introduction of the +Bachelet flying train should certainly +be the extension of London's suburbs. +We extract the following from a season-ticket +holder's diary of the near future.</i>]</h3> + +<p><i>Dundee.</i>—Strap-hung again to-day; +London train abominably crowded. +That is the worst of living in these +inner suburbs. Men who live on the +other side of the Orkney Tunnel tell +me the train only begins seriously to +fill up at Caithness; before that, one +has reasonable hope of a seat. Brown, +for instance, says that, coming up from +Kirkwall and entering train before +pressure begins, he rarely has to use +strap. Don't know how the poor +wretches at Newcastle and Durham +ever get to town at all, though, living +so close to King's Cross, they can perhaps +afford to stand for the few minutes +they are in train....</p> + +<p>No change for better, so have been +studying agents' lists; some items attractive. +For example:—</p> + +<p><i>Belgian Tunnel Line.</i>—Antwerp and +Liverpool Street in 29 minutes; low +season-ticket rates; excellent mid-day +service, enabling business men to take +luncheon at home.</p> + +<p><i>Charming Maisonettes</i> in fine healthy +suburb, S.W. London (Penzance district); +bath h. and c.; Company's water; +two minutes Bachelet Railway-station; +25 minutes Paddington and City.</p> + +<p><i>Sunny Cairo, S.E.</i>—Nice self-contained +flats; charming desert view; +low rents; ninety-five minutes Charing +Cross; five minutes Sahara golf links +(inland course but real sand bunkers).</p> + +<p><i>Week-End Cottage for Harassed City +Worker, Siberia (near London</i>).—To be +let furnished; bracing air; perfect +quiet.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>SYNTHETIC MUTTON.</h2> + +<p>In view of the impending scarcity +of meat, so vividly foreshadowed in a +recent article in <i>The Times</i>, it is most +reassuring to learn that a new comestible, +palatable and nutritious, yet entirely +free from the drawbacks of all +flesh foods, has been invented by a +German scientist and will shortly be +put upon the market at a price which +will bring it within the reach of the +humblest household.</p> + +<p>Professor Schafskopf, the inventor, +has long been engaged on experiments +with a view to the production of synthetic +mutton, and his diligent efforts +have now been crowned with success. +The basis of the new food is compressed +peat, which is so permeated with a +variety of nutritive juices, applied at +high pressure by a grouting machine, +as to be practically indistinguishable +from the best Southdown mutton.</p> + +<p>By way of putting his discovery to +the test Professor Schafskopf entertained +a number of distinguished guests +at the Fitz Hotel last week, and +with hardly an exception they were +astonished at the succulent and sumptuous +flavour of the new food, which +is called by the attractive name of +"Supermut."</p> + +<p>Professor Bino Byles, interviewed at +the close of the banquet, said that +"Supermut" was a distinct success. It +had all the digestibility of tripe with +an added aroma of Harris Tweed.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gullick, the famous motorist, +said that "Supermut" reminded him +of the best cormorant. He believed +that it could also be used for making +unpuncturable tyres.</p> + +<p>Lord Findhorn, the eminent Scots +Judge, said that "Supermut" had converted +him to carnivorous food, though +he was an hereditary vegetarian.</p> + +<p>Finally we note that <i>The Forceps</i> in +a laudatory article pays a handsome +tribute to the new food, and says, "It +must be conceded that a very reliable +substitute for mutton has at length +been produced. We found it hard to +distinguish it from a saddle."</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page418" id="page418"></a>[pg 418]</span> + +<h2>A MAY PICNIC.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Someone has settled (it's not my fault;</p> +<p>And, whatever we do, let's take some salt)—</p> +<p>Someone has settled, don't you see,</p> +<p>Without referring the thing to me,</p> +<p>That this is a day to be bright and hearty,</p> +<p>And to take our lunch as a picnic party—</p> +<p>To take our lunch with toil and care</p> +<p>Away from home in the open air.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Now I maintain that it can't be right,</p> +<p>When there isn't a single wasp in sight,</p> +<p>To have mint-sauce and a joint of lamb,</p> +<p>Some currant cake and a pot of jam,</p> +<p>A gooseberry tart, with sugar and cream,</p> +<p>And some salad dressing, a bottled dream—</p> +<p>All the things that a wasp loves best</p> +<p>When he buzzes away from his hidden nest;</p> +<p>And you all shout "Wasp!" and flick at the fellow,</p> +<p>And you miss his black and you miss his yellow,</p> +<p>And only succeed in turning over</p> +<p>Your glass of drink on the thirsty clover.</p> +<p>A picnic? Pooh! Why, you merely waste it</p> +<p>When there isn't a wasp to come and taste it.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>However, a picnic's got to be,</p> +<p>Though they haven't referred the thing to me.</p> +<p>There's a boat and we put our parcels in it,</p> +<p>And off we push in another minute.</p> +<p>And our pace is certainly rather slow,</p> +<p>For everybody wants to row;</p> +<p>And there's any amount of laugh and chatter,</p> +<p>And crabs are caught, but it doesn't matter;</p> +<p class="i6">For we're all afloat</p> +<p class="i6">In an open boat,</p> +<p>And the breeze is light and the sky is blue,</p> +<p>And the sun is toasting us through and through.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>By a buttercup field we came to land</p> +<p>And every passenger lent a hand</p> +<p>To unload our food and spread it out,</p> +<p>While the cows stood flapping their tails about.</p> +<p>And Peggy as waitress played her part,</p> +<p>And John fell into the gooseberry tart.</p> +<p>I can't explain, though I wish I could,</p> +<p>Why everything tasted twice as good?</p> +<p>As it does at home in the cheerful gloom</p> +<p>Of the old familiar dining-room.</p> +<p>Every picnicky thing was there,</p> +<p>Including the girls and the son and heir,</p> +<p>A red-cheeked frivolous knife-and-fork's crew,</p> +<p>Who hadn't forgotten, oh joy, the corkscrew!</p> +<p>And, last, we furbished our feasting-green,</p> +<p>And left no paper to spoil the scene,</p> +<p>Did up the remains in a tidy pack</p> +<p>And took to our boat and drifted back.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>R. C. L.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE CORNCRAKE.</h2> + +<p>The corncrake has arrived. As I +turned in at the gate last night he +reported himself in the usual way. So +now we are in for it. The priceless +boon of silence in the hours of darkness +will be denied to us for many weeks to +come.</p> + +<p>I do not know how to describe his +utterance. It could not without extravagance +be called a note, still less a +chirp, and least of all a song. It is not +a bark—not quite. It is hardly a growl +or a grunt or a snort; I should be sorry +to call it a bray or a yelp. And yet I +am not going to admit that it is a +quack or a bleat; and it isn't a screech +or a squeal or a sob. Nor is it a croak, +though now we are getting nearer to it. +The puzzling thing about it is that it +was clearly meant by Nature to be an +interjection. Uttered once, suddenly, +from the far side of a hedge it would +admirably convey such a sentiment as, +"Hi!" "What ho!" or "Here we are +again!" But in practice it is the one +sound in the whole landscape that +never interjects. It is a monument of +barren reiteration.</p> + +<p>I wonder why he does it. No doubt +he has some end in view. He must get +something out of it—some bodily ease +or mental stimulus or spiritual consolation. +But he must surely have been +born with a prodigious passion for +monotony. It may surprise you to +learn that in the course of the season +he will make that same remark over +two million times. I have worked it +out. Two million is a conservative +estimate. It only allows for eight +hours' work out of the twenty-four, for +a term of six weeks: so that it is well +within the mark.</p> + +<p>Our corncrake—I don't know what +the usual standard may be—does ninety-eight +to the minute. He is as regular +as the ticking of a clock. You can't +hustle him and you can't wear him out. +At times when I have thought he +might be getting tired and thirsty I +have imagined that he was slowing +down; but he never gets below ninety-six; +and in his most active and feverish +moments he very rarely touches the +hundred. At short measured intervals +he punctuates the night with his dry +delivery, unhasting yet unresting, his +sole idea to get his forty-seven-thousand +up without a break before the morning. +He just doesn't know the meaning of +the word emphasis; he has absolutely +no sense of rhythm. Once I tried to +believe that he was talking in three-four +time, or at least that he was occasionally +accenting a note. But he never +does. He gets no louder or softer, +higher or lower, quicker or slower—he +just keeps on.</p> + +<p>You need not suppose that I have +meekly sat down under this thing. +This is his sixth year, and I have +been at war with him all the time. +But finally he holds the field, and my +only hope now is that his powers may +begin to fail as old age creeps on. Even +if he dropped to eighty a minute it +would be an intense relief. But I dare +say he means to bequeath the pitch to +a successor at his death—perhaps to a +relative.</p> + +<p>At first I used to throw things at +him out of the bedroom window—hairbrushes +and slippers and books and all +sorts of odds and ends. I had to go +round with a basket after breakfast +collecting them. But it was no good; +he never dropped a beat. Then I deliberately +devastated the garden, with +a view to deprive him of cover. I had +all the bushes taken up and the flowerbeds +removed, and I laid down, just +under my bedroom window, a wide +expanse of tar-macadam, as bald and +flat as a mirror—a beetle couldn't have +hidden himself on it. (I had to call +this a hard tennis-court for the sake of +appearances. We do as a matter of +fact play on it sometimes.) But it +had no effect on the corncrake. Of +course the truth is that I never have +the least idea where he is; no one has. +No one has over seen him or ever will. +He is endowed with great ventriloquial +powers. That is a provision of Nature, +and if you will reflect a moment you +will see that it must be so. For, +granted that he is to go on talking like +that, if he could not throw his voice +about from place to place and thus +make it impossible to get at him, the +species would become extinct.</p> + +<p>There is nothing more that I can do, +and it is only fair to admit that the +whole thing is my own fault. When I +built my house six years ago I might +have shown a little common foresight +in this matter. I got everything else +right as far as I could. My rooms are +well placed for sunshine and they have +the best of the view. The water-supply +is good; there is plenty of fall for the +drainage system; we are well out of +the motor dust. But I omitted one +precaution. I should have had the +ground surveyed for corncrakes.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<h3>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerics.</i>)</h3> + +<p>In <i>The World Set Free</i> (<span class="sc">Macmillan</span>) Mr. <span class="sc">H. G. Wells</span> has +seen a vision—the vision of a world plunged into blazing and +crumbling chaos by the ultimate logical issues of military +violence. Defence, becoming always less and less effective +against attack, which is always more and more a matter of +the laboratory, finally succumbs before <i>Holsten's</i> discovery +of "Carolinum" and its final disastrous application in the +"atomic bombs." Romancing on a theme out of <span class="sc">Soddy's</span> +<i>Interpretation of Radium</i>, Mr. <span class="sc">Wells</span>, with those deft +strokes of allusive and imaginative realism—so convincing +is he that realism is the only apt word for his daring constructions +of the future—depicts the shattering of the +headquarters of the War Control in Paris, followed by a +swift counterstroke against the Central European Control +in Berlin by the aviation corps, the destruction of capital +after capital, and the final great battle in the air, with the +bombing of the Dutch sea walls. Thereafter comes the +attempt at reconstruction by the Council of Brissago, a +convention of the governing folk of the world—the dream +and deed of the Frenchman <i>Leblanc</i>, "a little bald, +spectacled man," a peacemonger whom, till that day of +ruin, everyone had thought an amiable fool. One monarch, +"The Slavic Fox," sees in the assembly a chance to strike +for world sovereignty, and the failure of his bomb-fraught +planes and his final undoing in the secret arsenal are +breathless pieces of description.</p> + +<p>A subject for wonder is the astonishing advance in the +author's technique. <i>The World Set Free</i> is on an altogether +different plane from <i>The War of the Worlds</i> and those other +gorgeous pot-boilers. It combines the alert philosophy and +adroit criticism of the <i>Tono Bungay</i> phase with the luminous +vision of <i>Anticipations</i> and the romantic interest of his +eccentric books of adventure. The seer in Mr. <span class="sc">Wells</span> +comes uppermost, and I almost think that when the history +of the latter half of the twentieth century comes to be +written it will be found not merely that he has prophesied +surely, but that his visions have actually tended to shape +the course of events. Short of <i>Holsten's</i> "atomic bombs" +(which may or may not be developed) Mr. <span class="sc">Wells</span> makes a +fair foreshadowing of the uprush of subliminal sanity which +may very well be timed to appear before 1999. I can't +take my hat off to Mr. <span class="sc">Wells</span> because I've had it in my +hand out of respect for him these last few years. So I touch +my forelock.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>Roding Rectory</i> (<span class="sc">Stanley Paul</span>) is in many respects the +best novel Mr. <span class="sc">Archibald Marshall</span> has written. Those +who remember <i>Exton Manor</i> and the three books dealing +with the lives and deeds of the <i>Clintons</i> will consider this +to be high praise, as, indeed, it is meant to be. Mr. +<span class="sc">Marshall</span> preserves the ease and amenity of style which +we have learnt to expect of him; he creates his characters—ordinary +English men and women, animated by ordinary +English motives—with all his old skill, and he sets them to +work out their destinies in that pleasant atmosphere of +English country life which no one since <span class="sc">Trollope's</span> death +has reproduced with greater truth and delicacy than Mr. +<span class="sc">Marshall</span>. This time, however, the clash of temperaments +and traditions is more severe, the story cuts deeper into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page420" id="page420"></a>[pg 420]</span> +humanity, and the narration of it is, I think, more closely +knit. The Rector of Roding, the <i>Rev. Henry French</i>, is a +fine figure of a man honourably devoted to the duties of his +parish and abounding in good works. It is sad to see him +cast down from his pride of place by the sudden revelation +of an ill deed done in his thoughtless youth at Oxford. In +an interview managed with an admirable sense of dramatic +fitness he is faced by a son, the living embodiment of his +all-but-forgotten sin, and soon the whole parish knows of it. +But the Rector, with the aid of his wife, fights his fight and +in the end wins back his self-respect and the respect of his +neighbours. He is helped, too, by <i>Dr. Merrow</i>, the Congregational +minister, a beautiful character drawn with deep +sympathy. Indeed, it is <i>Dr. Merrow</i> who has the <i>beau rôle</i>, +and, I must add, deserves it. For the rest I must let Mr. +<span class="sc">Marshall's</span> book speak for itself. He has written a very +powerful and interesting story.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Among reviewers of books +there is a convention by +which the matter of a first +edition—whether a single +story or a collection of +stories—which has been reproduced +from a magazine +or magazines, is treated as +if it were a novelty. It is +a sound and benevolent convention, +because the stuff of +magazines only receives at +best a very sketchy notice. +Miss <span class="sc">May Sinclair</span>, however, +is apparently prepared; +to risk the loss of any +advantage to be derived +from it, for her collection +of short and middle-sized +stones republished under +the title of the first of +them, <i>The Judgment of Eve</i> +(<span class="sc">Hutchinson</span>), is prefaced +by an article in which she +replies to those critics who +took notice of some of them +at the time of their appearance +in magazine form. By +this recognition of judgment already passed she sets me +free to regard her stories as old matter, and to confine +myself to a review of her introduction. In this answer to +her critics I cannot feel that she has been well advised. +Even in a second edition critics are best left alone, unless +the author can correct them on a point of fact or interpretation +of fact. Here it is on a matter of opinion that +she joins issue with them. They seem (the misguided ones) +to have rashly said that "The Judgment of Eve" was "a +novel boiled down," and that "The Wrackham Memoirs," +on the other hand, was "a short story spun out." But +Miss <span class="sc">Sinclair</span> is very sure that she knew what she was +about. She can "lay her hand on her heart and swear +that 'The Judgment of Eve' would have lost by any words +that could conceivably have been added to it;" she is certain +that "Charles Wrackham required the precise amount +of room that has been given him." I dare say she is right, +but I wish she could have left someone else to say so. For +myself I should have thought it obvious that a story dealing +with character and its development by circumstance demanded +more room in which to spread itself than one that +dealt with a situation, dramatic or psychologic; yet "The +Wrackham Memoirs," which, whatever its complexity, +belongs to the latter type, takes up very nearly as much +space as "The Judgment of Eve," which belongs to the +former. Of course no critic of even moderate intelligence +would propose to fix a limit of length for every type of +story, but it may safely be said that, if you take <span class="sc">Maupassant</span> +for a standard, the best short stories have concerned themselves +with situation rather than with character; and, +though I have not had the privilege of reading the +criticisms which are the subject of Miss <span class="sc">Sinclair's</span> rebuke, +I can easily believe that they were governed by this +elementary reflection. It must have occurred to Miss +<span class="sc">Sinclair</span> herself, even if she did not find it convenient to +take cognisance of it in her reply. Perhaps she will have +something to say on this subject in some future edition of +her very interesting book, and I should indeed be flattered +if she would consent, in a brief phrase or two, to review my +review of her review of her reviewers.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:70%;"><a href="images/420.png"><img width="100%" src="images/420.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">The new Cash Register as used at the Royal College of +Music for calculating the value per minute of voices in the +vocal training department</span>.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>Good costume novels are +not so common nowadays +that I can pass <i>Desmond +O'Connor</i> (<span class="sc">Long</span>) without a +most hearty welcome. For +it is an excellent example +of its class—full of rescues, +of swashbuckling and of +midnight escapes; with a +gallant hero (and Irish at +that), a lovely heroine, two +bold bad villains and a +sufficiency of kings and +other historical celebrities +to fill the background picturesquely. +In fact Mr. +<span class="sc">George H. Jessop</span> has seen +to it that no ingredient +proper to this kind of dish +shall be wanting, and I have +great pleasure in congratulating +him upon the result. +<i>Desmond</i> was a soldier of fortune, +a captain in the gallant +Irish Brigade that served +<span class="sc">King Louis XIV.</span> against +the Allies. During the siege +of Bruges the young captain +chanced to see one morning at mass the fair <i>Margaret, +Countess of Anhalt</i>. She had lately fled to the town to +frustrate the intentions of <i>Louis</i>, who would have given +her hand to an equally unwilling suitor. There was also, +hanging about, a certain <i>De Brissac</i>, who in the event of +the countess's death or imprisonment would succeed to her +estates. So off we go, cut and thrust, sword, cloak and +rapier, all to the right jingle of tushery, till the last chapter, +in which <i>King Louis</i> relents and does what kings (of France +especially) always do in the last chapters of historical +romances. Really it seems sometimes as though the Louvre +under the Monarchy must have been run as a kind of +superior matrimonial agency in a large way of business. +Anyhow he rings down the curtain upon a bustling tale +that should add to the reputation of its author.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>The Conqueror of Ouimet.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>As the grief of a lioness reft of her cubs,</p> +<p>Or a general ragged by the rawest of subs,</p> +<p>Or a rigid supporter of temperance clubs</p> +<p>Accused of frequenting the lowest of pubs,</p> +<p>Or a burglar defied by the skill that is <span class="sc">Chubb's</span>,</p> +<p>Is America's grief at the triumph of <span class="sc">Tubbs</span>.</p> + </div> </div> +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, May +27, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 24157-h.htm or 24157-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/1/5/24157/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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