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diff --git a/24357-h/24357-h.htm b/24357-h/24357-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e450b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/24357-h/24357-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3022 @@ +<!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, July 1, 1914.</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, July 1, 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, July 1, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: January 18, 2008 [EBook #24357] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Hagay Giller, Malcolm Farmer, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 147.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>July 1, 1914.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page1" id="page1"></a>[pg 1]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/001a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/001a.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/001b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/001b.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>PROGRESS.</h2> + +<p>["Giving evidence recently before a Select +Committee of the House of Commons, Miss +C. E. Collet, of the Home Office, said the +commercial laundry was killing the small +hand laundry."—<i>Evening News.</i>]</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The little crafts! How soon they die!</p> +<p class="i2">In cottage doors no shuttle clicks;</p> +<p>The hand-loom has been ousted by</p> +<p class="i2">A large concern with lots more sticks.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The throb of pistons beats around;</p> +<p class="i2">Great chimneys rise on Thames's banks;</p> +<p>The same phenomena are found</p> +<p class="i2">In Sheffield. (Yorks) and Oldham (Lancs).</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>No longer now the housewife makes</p> +<p class="i2">Her rare preserves, for what's the good?</p> +<p>The factory round the corner fakes</p> +<p class="i2">Raspberry jam with chips of wood.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>'Tis so with what we eat and wear,</p> +<p class="i2">Our bread, the boots wherein we splosh</p> +<p>'Tis so with what I deemed most fair,</p> +<p class="i2">Most virginal of all—the Wash.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>'Tis this that chiefly, when I chant,</p> +<p class="i2">Fulfils my breast with sighs of ruth,</p> +<p>To think that engines can supplant</p> +<p class="i2">The Amazons I loved in youth.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>That not with tender care, as erst</p> +<p class="i2">By spinster females fancy-free,</p> +<p>These button-holes of mine get burst</p> +<p class="i2">Before the shift comes back to me;</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>That mere machines, and not a maid</p> +<p class="i2">With fingers fatuously plied,</p> +<p>The collars and the cuffs have frayed</p> +<p class="i2">That still excoriate my hide;</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>That steam reduces to such states</p> +<p class="i2">What once was marred by human skill;</p> +<p>That socks are sundered from their mates</p> +<p class="i2">By means of an electric mill;</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>That not by Cupid's coy advance</p> +<p class="i2">(Some crone conniving at the fraud),</p> +<p>But simply by mechanic chance,</p> +<p class="i2">I get this handkerchief marked "Maud."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>This is, indeed, a striking change;</p> +<p class="i2">I sometimes wonder if the world</p> +<p>Gets better as the skies grow strange</p> +<p class="i2">With coils of smoke about them curled.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>If the old days were not the best</p> +<p class="i2">Ere printed formulas conveyed</p> +<p>Sorrow about that silken vest</p> +<p class="i2">For all eternity mislaid;</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Ere yet the unwieldy motor-van</p> +<p class="i2">Came clattering round the kerbstone's brink,</p> +<p>Its driver dreaming some new plan</p> +<p class="i2">To make my mauve pyjamas shrink.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Evoe</span>.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page2" id="page2"></a>[pg 2]</span> + +<h2>THE ENCHANTED CASTLE.</h2> + +<p>There are warm days in London +when even a window-box fails to charm, +and one longs for the more open spaces +of the country. Besides, one wants to +see how the other flowers are getting +on. It is on these days that we +travel to our Castle of Stopes; as the +crow flies, fifteen miles away. Indeed, +that is the way we get to it, for it is a +castle in the air. And when we are +come to it Celia is always in a pink +sun-bonnet gathering roses lovingly, +and I, not very far off, am speaking +strongly to somebody or other about +something I want done. By-and-by +I shall go into the library and work ... +with an occasional glance through the +open window at Celia.</p> + +<p>To think that a month ago we were +quite happy with a few pink geraniums!</p> + +<p>Sunday, a month ago, was hot. +"Let's take train somewhere," said +Celia, "and have lunch under a hedge."</p> + +<p>"I know a lovely place for hedges," +I said.</p> + +<p>"I know a lovely tin of potted +grouse," said Celia, and she went off +to cut some sandwiches. By twelve +o'clock we were getting out of the +train.</p> + +<p>The first thing we came to was a golf +course, and Celia had to drag me past +it. Then we came to a wood, and I +had to drag her through it. Another +mile along a lane, and then we both +stopped together.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" we said.</p> + +<p>It was a cottage, the cottage of a +dream. And by a cottage I mean, not +four plain rooms and a kitchen, but one +surprising room opening into another; +rooms all on different levels and of +different shapes, with delightful places +to bump your head on; open fireplaces; +a large square hall, oak-beamed, where +your guests can hang about after breakfast, +while deciding whether to play +golf or sit in the garden. Yet all so +cunningly disposed that from outside +it looks only a cottage or, at most, two +cottages persuaded into one.</p> + +<p>And, of course, we only saw it from +outside. The little drive, determined +to get there as soon as possible, pushed +its way straight through an old barn, and +arrived at the door simultaneously with +the flagged lavender walk for the humble +who came on foot. The rhododendrons +were ablaze beneath the south windows; +a little orchard was running wild on the +west; there was a hint at the back of +a clean-cut lawn. Also, you remember, +there was a golf course, less than two +miles away.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Celia with a deep sigh, +"but we must live here."</p> + +<p>An Irish terrier ran out to inspect +us. I bent down and patted it. "With +a dog," I added.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it all lovely? I wonder who +it belongs to, and if——"</p> + +<p>"If he'd like to give it to us."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he would if he saw us and +admired us very much," said Celia +hopefully.</p> + +<p>"I don't think Mr. Barlow is that +sort of man," I said. "An excellent +fellow, but not one to take these sudden +fancies."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Barlow? How do you know +his name?"</p> + +<p>"I have these surprising intuitions," +I said modestly. "The way the chimneys +stand up——"</p> + +<p>"I know," cried Celia. "The dog's +collar."</p> + +<p>"Right, Watson. And the name of +the house is Stopes."</p> + +<p>She repeated it to herself with a +frown.</p> + +<p>"What a disappointing name," she +said. "Just Stopes."</p> + +<p>"Stopes," I said. "Stopes, Stopes. +If you keep on saying it, a certain old-world +charm seems to gather round it. +Stopes."</p> + +<p>"Stopes," said Celia. "It <i>is</i> rather +jolly."</p> + +<p>We said it ten more times each, and +it seemed the only possible name for it. +Stopes—of course.</p> + +<p>"Well?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"We must write to Mr. Barlow," +said Celia decisively. "'Dear Mr. Barlow, +er——Dear Mr. Barlow,——we——' +Yes, it will be rather difficult. What +do we want to say exactly?"</p> + +<p>"'Dear Mr. Barlow,—May we have +your house?'"</p> + +<p>"Yes," smiled Celia, "but I'm afraid +we can hardly ask for it. But we +might rent it when—when he doesn't +want it any more."</p> + +<p>"'Dear Mr. Barlow,'" I amended, +"'have you any idea when you're! +going to die?' No, that wouldn't do +either. And there's another thing—we +don't know his initials, or even if he's +a 'Mr.' Perhaps he's a knight or a—a +duke. Think how offended Duke +Barlow would be if we put '—— Barlow, +Esq.' on the envelope."</p> + +<p>"We could telegraph. 'Barlow. After +you with Stopes.'"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps there's a young Barlow, +a Barlowette or two with expectations. +It may have been in the family for +years."</p> + +<p>"Then we——Oh, let's have lunch." +She sat down and began to undo the +sandwiches. "Dear o' Stopes," she +said with her mouth full.</p> + +<p>We lunched outside Stopes. Surely +if Earl Barlow had seen us he would +have asked us in. But no doubt his +dining-room looked the other way; +towards the east and north, as I +pointed out to Celia, thus being pleasantly +cool at lunch-time.</p> + +<p>"Ha, Barlow," I said dramatically, +"a time will come when <i>we</i> shall be +lunching in there, and <i>you</i>——bah!" +And I tossed a potted-grouse sandwich +to his dog.</p> + +<p>However, that didn't get us any +nearer.</p> + +<p>"Will you <i>promise</i>," said Celia, +"that we shall have lunch in there one +day?"</p> + +<p>"I promise," I said readily. That +gave me about sixty years to do something +in.</p> + +<p>"I'm like—who was it who saw +something of another man's and +wouldn't be happy till he got it?"</p> + +<p>"The baby in the soap advertisement."</p> + +<p>"No, no, some king in history."</p> + +<p>"I believe you are thinking of <span class="sc">Ahab</span>, +but you aren't a bit like him, really. +Besides, we're not coveting Stopes. All +we want to know is, does Barlow ever +let it in the summer?"</p> + +<p>"That's it," said Celia eagerly.</p> + +<p>"And, if so," I went on, "will he +lend us the money to pay the rent +with?"</p> + +<p>"Er—yes," said Celia. "That's it."</p> + +<hr class="short"/> + +<p>So for a month we have lived in our +Castle of Stopes. I see Celia there in +her pink sun-bonnet, gathering the +flowers lovingly, bringing an armful of +them into the hall, disturbing me sometimes +in the library with "<i>Aren't</i> they +beauties? No, I only just looked in—good +luck to you." And she sees me +ordering a man about importantly, +or waving my hand to her as I ride +through the old barn on my road to +the golf-course.</p> + +<p>But this morning she had an idea.</p> + +<p>"Suppose," she said timidly, "you +<i>wrote</i> about Stopes, and Mr. Barlow; +happened to see it, and knew how much +we wanted it, and——"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Then," said Celia firmly, "if he +were a gentleman he would give it +to us."</p> + +<p>Very well. Now we shall see if Mr. +Barlow is a gentleman.</p> + +<p>A. A. M.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>Correspondence.</h3> + +<p>"Equal Rights" writes:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"Dear Sir,—Why are descriptive names confined +to boxers, such as Bombardier Wells +and Gunboat Smith? Why not Rifleman +Redmond, Airman Churchill, Solicitor George, +Golfer Asquith, Bushman Wilding, Trundler +Hitch, Dude Alexander, Bandsman Beecham, +Hunger-Striker Pankhurst? Or, to take +Editors——" +</p></blockquote> + +<p>[The rest of this communication is +omitted owing to considerations of +space.—<span class="sc">Ed</span>.]</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page3" id="page3"></a>[pg 3]</span> + +<h3>WHEN THE SHIPS COME HOME.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/003.png"><img width="100%" src="images/003.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">Greece.</span> "ISN'T IT TIME WE STARTED FIGHTING AGAIN?"</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Turkey.</span> "YES, I DARESAY. HOW SOON COULD YOU BEGIN?"</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Greece.</span> "OH, IN A FEW WEEKS."</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Turkey.</span> "NO GOOD FOR ME. SHAN'T BE READY TILL THE AUTUMN".</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page5" id="page5"></a>[pg 5]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/005.png"><img width="100%" src="images/005.png" alt=""/></a><p>"<span class="sc">We're giving our pastor a new drawing-room carpet on +the occasion on his jubilee. Show me something that looks nice but isn't +too expensive.</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Here is the very thing, Madame—real Kidderminister.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>EGYPT IN VENICE.</h2> + +<p>"<i><span class="sc">La Légende de Joseph</span>.</i>"</p> + +<p>Those who know the kind of attractions +that the Russian ballet offers in so +many of its themes could have easily +guessed, without previous enlightenment, +what episode in the life of <span class="sc">Joseph</span> +had been selected for illustration last +week at Drury Lane. But they could +never have guessed that Herr <span class="sc">Tiessen</span>, +author of a shilling guide to the intentions +of the composer, would attach a +transcendental significance to the conduct +of <i>Potiphar's Wife</i>. "Through the +unknown divine," he informs us, +"which is still new and mysterious to +her, an imperious desire awakens in +her to fathom, to possess this world"—the +world, that is to say, which <i>Joseph's</i> +imagination creates in the course of an +exhibition dance. If this is so, I can +only say that her behaviour is strangely +misleading.</p> + +<p>The scene opens at a party given by +<i>Potiphar</i> in Venice. Venice, of course, +was not <i>Potiphar's</i> home address; and +I marvel a little at the change of <i>venue</i> +when I think how much more harmony +could have been got out of an Egyptian +setting. But then I remind myself +that the Russian ballet is nothing if not +<i>bizarre</i>. The long banqueting-table +recalls the canvases of <span class="sc">Veronese</span>, but +with discordant notes of the Orient and +elsewhere. <i>Potiphar</i> himself, seated +on a dais, has the air of an Assyrian +bull. By his side <i>Mme. Potiphar</i> wears +breeches ending above the knee, with +white stockings and high clogs.</p> + +<p>For the entertainment of the guests +there was a dance of nuptial unveiling +and a bout between half-a-dozen Turkish +boxers. But it was a decadent and +<i>blazé</i> company, and something more +piquant was needed for their titillation. +This was supplied in the shape +of an original dance by the fifteen-year-old +<i>Joseph</i>, whom my guide describes as +"graceful, wild and pungent." He was +introduced in a recumbent posture, and +asleep, on a covered stretcher, and at +first I had the clever idea that he was +the customary corpse that appeared at +Egyptian feasts to remind the company +of their liability to die. But when he +woke up and began to dance I saw at +once that I was wrong.</p> + +<p>I now know all about the interpretation +of <i>Joseph's</i> dance; but I defy anyone +to say at sight and without a showman's +assistance what precisely he was +after. In the Third Figure (according +to my guide-book) "there is in his +leaps a feeling of heaviness, as if he +were bound to earth, and he stumbles +once or twice as one who has missed +his goal;" but how was I to guess that +this signified that his "searching after +God" was still ineffectual? or that +when in the Fourth Figure he "leaps +with light feet" this meant that "Joseph +has found God"? I don't blame the boy +for not knowing the rule that forbids +one art to trespass on the domain of +another; but there is no excuse for +Herr <span class="sc">Strauss</span>, who must have been +well aware that, for the conveyance of +any but the most obvious emotions, +mute dancing can never be a satisfactory +substitute for articulate poetry.</p> + +<p>However, <i>Potiphar's</i> guests seemed +better instructed than I was, for they +threw off their apathy and took quite an +intelligent interest in <i>Joseph's</i> <i>pas seul</i>. +Indeed, one young man (the episode +escaped me at the dress rehearsal, but I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page6" id="page6"></a>[pg 6]</span> +have it in the guide-book)—one young +man, "sobbing, buries his head in his +hands, upsetting thereby a dish of fruit." +As for <i>Potiphar</i>, it failed to stir the +sombre depths of his abysmal boredom, +but his wife, whose ennui had hitherto +been of the most profound, began to sit +up and take notice, and at the end of the +dance she sent for <i>Joseph</i> and supplemented +his rather exiguous costume +with a gross necklace of jewels, letting +her hand linger awhile on his bare neck. +Already, it will be seen, she was intrigued +with the "unknown divine." +<i>Joseph</i>, on the contrary, received +her attentions without +<i>empressement</i>.</p> + +<p>In the next scene—after a +rather woolly and unintelligible +interlude—we see <i>Joseph</i> +retiring to his couch in an +alcove behind the place where +the banqueting-table had +been. You will judge how +urgent was the lady's keenness +to probe the mysteries +of his divine nature +when I tell you that she +could not wait till the morning +to pursue her enquiries, +but must needs visit him in +his chamber at dead of night, +and wearing the one garment +of the hour. At first, still +half dreaming, he mistakes +her for an angel (he had +already seen one in his sleep), +but subsequently, growing +suspicious, he repels her with +a dignified disdain. For I +must tell you that, whatever +the guide-book may allege +about the loftiness of her +designs, the music gave her +away. It reverted, in fact, +to the motive of those passages +which had already accompanied +and illustrated the +nuptial dance, the dance (as +Herr <span class="sc">Tiessen</span> calls it) of +"burning Love-longing."</p> + +<p>At this juncture, <i>Potiphar</i> +and his minions break upon the scene. +His wife, after denouncing <i>Joseph</i>, is +distracted between passion of hatred +and passion of love, and there is some +play (reminding one of <i>L'Après-midi +d'un Faune</i>) with the purple cloak +which <i>Joseph</i> had discarded. Presently +she eludes her dilemma by fainting.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile it has been the work of +a moment to order up a brazier, a pair +of pincers, a poker, a headsman and +an axe. The instruments of torture +waste no time in getting red-hot; and +we anticipate the worst. <i>Joseph</i>, however, +who has ignored these preparations +and maintained an attitude of +superbly indifferent aloofness, suddenly +becomes luminous under great pressure +of limelight; and most of the cast, +including a ballet of female dervishes, +are abashed to the ground.</p> + +<p>Now appears, on the open-work +entresol at the back of the stage, an +archangel. The guide-book is in error +where it says that he glides downwards +on a shaft of light radiating from a +star. As a matter of fact he walks +down the main staircase to the ground +floor. Approaching <i>Joseph</i> he takes +him by the hand and "leads him +heavenwards" by the same flight of +steps; and we are to understand that, +in the opinion of Herr <span class="sc">Strauss</span>, the +boy's subsequent career, as recorded +in the Hebraic Scriptures, may be +treated as negligible.</p> + +<p>I should like, in excuse of my own +flippancy, to assume the same detachment, +and to regard this ballet-theme +as having practically no relation whatever +to Biblical history, but being just +one of many themes out of Oriental +lore, mostly secular, that lend themselves +to the drama of disappointed +passion. My only serious protest is +against the hypocrisy which pretends, +with regard to <i>Potiphar's Wife</i>, to see +a spiritual significance in what is mere +vulgar animalism.</p> + +<p>I ought, by the way, to have said +that, in a spasm of chagrin, she chokes +herself with the pearl necklace which +lent the only touch of superfluity to +her night attire, and was carried out—but +not up the main staircase. Thus +ends this sordid tragedy that so well +illustrates that quality in Herr <span class="sc">Strauss</span> +to which my guide refers when he +speaks of his realization of a "poignant +longing for divine cheerfulness."</p> + +<p>O. S.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/006.png"><img width="100%" src="images/006.png" alt=""/></a><p>"<span class="sc">Excuse me, Sir, but would you like to buy a nice little +dawg?</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">No, thanks very much. He looks as though he would bite.</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">'E won't bite yer <i>if you buy 'im</i>, Guv'ner.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ENIGMA.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">My love to me is cold,</p> +<p>And no more seeks my gaze; I wonder why!</p> +<p>The smile of welcome that I loved of old</p> +<p class="i2">No longer lights her eye.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">One little week ago</p> +<p>I asked no surer guide than Cupid's chart;</p> +<p>I said, "Your eyes reveal the depths below,</p> +<p class="i2">And I can read your heart."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">She let her shy gaze fall,</p> +<p>And smiling asked, "Is then my face a screed,</p> +<p>My brow an open love-letter, where all</p> +<p class="i2">The world my thoughts may read?"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">Said I, "The world, I'll vow,</p> +<p>Is blind! Myself alone may see the signs,</p> +<p>And know the message written on your brow:</p> +<p class="i2">I read between the lines."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">My dear to me is cold;</p> +<p>Gone somewhere is the love-light from her eye;</p> +<p>And, when our ways meet, stately she doth hold</p> +<p class="i2">Her course. I wonder why.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Curiously, the Australian Minister of +Defence in the last Parliament bore the same +name as the Prime Minister in that which +has just been dissolved."</p> + +<p><i>Westminster Gazette.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>A similar curious coincidence happened +in England, the War Minister in the +last Parliament bearing the same name +as the present Lord Chancellor.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"MEN FOR THE ANTARCTIC.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">105 Canadian Dogs to go with +Sir E. Shackleton.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Daily Express.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>A gay lot, these Canadians.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page7" id="page7"></a>[pg 7]</span> + +<h2>A SCANDALMONGRIAN ROMANCE.</h2> + +<p>(<i>By Francis Scribble.</i>)</p> + +<p>[<i>The following article, specially written +for us by the Author of "Ten Frail +Beauties of the Restoration," "Tales +Told by a Royal Washerwoman," +etc., is another important contribution +to the literature of the Royal Dirty-Linen +Bag.</i>]</p> + +<p>A day or two ago a short notice in +the papers told of the death of Mrs. +Maria Tubbs at Cannes; but few, if any, +of those who read that brief announcement +will have recognised in it the +close of one of the most amazing +careers of the nineteenth century. Yet +little surprise need be expressed at this +general ignorance, for who would think +to find under that somewhat common-place +name the ravishingly beautiful +Maria Cotherstone, who, forty years +ago, was swept by Fate into the track +of the late King of Scandalmongria, +and well-nigh caused that singularly +unstable bark to founder? It is with +the kindly object of rescuing her +romance from oblivion that this brief +chronicle is written.</p> + +<p>In 1873 the Scandalmongrian Minister +in London was requested to find an +English lady to take charge of the two +children of his Royal master, and, +after searching enquiries, he was successful, +and Miss Maria Cotherstone +turned her back on England never more +to return. She was just twenty-two, +fresh and blooming, possessed of the +gayest of spirits, delightful manners +and the highest accomplishments. +Quietly she assumed control of the +Royal schoolroom, and by her charm +no less than by her firmness she +quickly won the respect and love of +her charges. Well had it been for her +memory if her influence had never +spread beyond the walls of her schoolroom; +this article had then been unwritten. +But alas for human nature! +One day His Majesty's eyes fell upon +the person of his children's governess, +and then began one of the most sordid +intrigues it has ever been my pleasure +to recall. [A large statement, as readers +of our author's <i>Gleanings from a Royal +Dustbin</i> will readily acknowledge. +However, the succeeding three-quarter +of a column of details, here omitted, +prove that there is at least some +foundation for the remark.]</p> + +<p>... And so their romance ended, +and His Majesty returned to the bosom +of his family and became once more the +righteous upholder of the sanctity of +the marriage tie. At first his easy-going +Court smiled somewhat at the +claim; but, when one or two highly-placed +officials presumed to follow in +the footsteps of their Sovereign, and +were in consequence banished irrevocably +from his presence, Scandalmongrian +Society realised with a pained +surprise that what is venial in a +monarch may, in a subject, be a +damnable offence.</p> + +<p>And what of Maria, the charming, +fascinating, much injured Maria? For +several years she is lost, and then we +hear of her marriage at Rome to "John +Tubbs, Esq., of London," and once +again she vanishes, only to turn up +many years later at Cannes. She is a +widow now, and a model of all the +virtues. Who so staid and respectable +as Madam? Who so charitable to the +poor? Few, it is to be feared, will have +recognised in that handsome old lady, so +regular in her attendance at the services +of the English Church, the beauteous +Maria Cotherstone whose name was +once on the lips of everybody from one +end of Europe to the other. It nearly +happened, indeed, that she went down +to her grave with all her scandalous, +feverish past forgotten, leaving behind +her only the fragrant memory of her +later life. But I have saved her. It is +a queer story, quite interesting enough +to recall.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE HIGHER EDUCATION OF WOMEN.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/007.png"><img width="100%" src="images/007.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><i>Mistress.</i> "<span class="sc">That's a nicely-made dress you have on, Jane. It's like the new +parlourmaid's, isn't it?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Jane (a close student of the fashion catalogues).</i> "<span class="sc">Oh no, Ma'am, <i>this</i> is <i>quite</i> a different +creation.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page8" id="page8"></a>[pg 8]</span> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p>It is not only misfortune that makes +strange bedfellows. Both Earl <span class="sc">Beauchamp</span> +and Sir <span class="sc">Joseph Beecham</span> appear +in the recent Honours List.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>By-the-by, it is denied that Sir <span class="sc">Joseph +Beecham</span> was in any way responsible +for the Government's "Pills for Earthquakes," +by which it was hoped to +avert the Irish crisis.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A New York cable announces that +the Duke of <span class="sc">Manchester</span> is interesting +himself in a cinematograph proposition +of a philanthropic nature, and +that the company will be known as the +"Church and School Social Service Corporation +for the Advancement of Moral +and Religious Education and Social +Uplift Work through the medium of the +Higher Art of the Moving Picture." It +will of course be possible for the man +in a hurry to call it, <i>tout court</i>, the +"C.&S.S.S.C.F.T.A.O.M.&R.E.&S.U.W.T.T.M.O.T.H.A.O.T.M.P."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The penny off the income tax came +just in time. It enabled several Liberal +plutocrats to buy a rose on Alexandra +Day.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The balance-sheet of the German +Company which had been running a +Zeppelin airship passenger service has +just been issued, and shows a loss of +£10,000 on the year's working. This +is not surprising, the difficulty which +all aircraft experience to keep their +balance.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>At the launch of the liner <i>Bismarck</i> +last week, the bottle of wine—which was +thrown by the Countess <span class="sc">Hannah von +Bismarck</span> missed the vessel, whereupon +the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> hauled back the +bottle, and with his proverbial good +luck hit the target.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Five shots were fired last week at +Baron <span class="sc">Henri de Rothschild</span>. At first +it was thought that this was done to +stop the author of <i>Crœsus</i> from writing +more plays, but, when it transpired +that the assailant was a man who +objected to the "Rothschild Cheap +Milk Supply," public sympathy veered +round in favour of the Baron.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Messrs. <span class="sc">Selfridge and Co.</span> were last +week defrauded by a well-dressed man, +who obtained two dressing-bags with +silver fittings by means of a trick without +paying for them. This is really +abominable. It is bad enough when +merely commercial firms are victimised: +to best a philanthropic institution in +this way is peculiarly base.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Mexican Rebel Split</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Morning Post.</i></p> + +<p>Now perhaps the other civilised +Powers will intervene. We have heard +of many inhumanities marking the war +in Mexico, but this treatment of a rebel +is surely the limit.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It is not often, we imagine, that the +British Navy is used to enforce a +change of diet. H.M.S. <i>Torch</i> has +just been ordered on a punitive expedition +to Malekula Island, where certain +of the natives have been eating some +of their compatriots.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>An American woman, according to +<i>The Express</i>, has a serious complaint +about the London policeman. She declares +that she walked all the way from +Queen's Hall to Piccadilly Circus with +three buttons of her blouse undone at +the back, and "not a single policeman" +offered to do it up for her. No doubt +the Force was reluctant to interfere +with what might turn out to be the +latest fashion. A Boy Scout who +offered, the other day, to sew up a +split skirt got his ears soundly boxed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Meanwhile the glad tidings reach us +that women's skirts and bodices are to +fasten in front instead of at the back. +Husbands all over the world who have +on occasions been pressed into their +wives' service as maids, only to learn +that they were clumsy boobies, would +like to have the name of the arbiter of +fashion who is responsible for this +innovation, as there is some thought +of erecting a statue to him.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Some distinguished German professors +have been discussing the question +of the best place in which to keep +a baby in summer. It is characteristic, +however, of these unpractical persons +that not one of them suggests the +obvious ice-safe.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"One of the first things the rich +should learn," says Dean <span class="sc">Inge</span>, "is +that money is not put to the best use +when it is merely spent on enjoyment." +It is hoped that this pronouncement +may lead wealthy people to patronise +our concert-halls more than they do.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"£1,600," a newspaper tells us, "were +found hidden in the cork leg of <span class="sc">Harry +C. Wise</span> while he was undergoing treatment +in a hospital at Denver." And +now, we suspect, <span class="sc">Harry's</span> friends will +always be pulling his leg.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"Have you seen <i>Pelleas and Mélisande</i>?"</p> + +<p>"No. Is it as funny as <i>Potash and +Perlmutter</i>?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE COLLECTORS.</h3> + +<p>My dinner partner was a self-made +man and not ashamed of it.</p> + +<p>"Do you take an interest in china, +ma'am?" he asked me.</p> + +<p>I felt that if I said "Yes" I should +have to buy some. So I said "No," +but he didn't wait to hear what I said.</p> + +<p>"I think I may say," he continued, +"that I have the finest collection of +old Dresden china in London."</p> + +<p>He went into the figures, explaining +the cost price and the difficulty of +storage.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said I, "if you find it a +nuisance, I've a parlour-maid I could +recommend to you; just the girl to +help you to get rid of it."</p> + +<p>At this point I think he had some +idea of having the finest collection of +parlourmaids in Middlesex, but he made +it small dogs instead. Was I interested +in these? No, but I supposed I'd have +to be if he insisted.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I should be far +wrong," he began, but I hustled him +through to the end of his sentence.</p> + +<p>"Finest collection in—?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"England," he said.</p> + +<p>He went over their points, and in an +expansive moment I marvelled. This +was imprudent, as it caused him to +search his mind for some further spectacular +triumph wherewith to amaze +and delight.</p> + +<p>"That," he said, looking up the table, +"is my wife."</p> + +<p>"Marvellous," said I.</p> + +<p>He took this in the best part. "You +refer to her diamonds?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Did I?" said I.</p> + +<p>"The finest collection in Great +Britain," he declared, and spread himself +over the subject.</p> + +<p>Later, in a mood of concession, he +inquired as to my specialities. I had +none, at least none that I could think +of. Determined to extract something +noteworthy, he questioned me on every +possibility. Was I not married? That +was so, I agreed, but then so many +women are.</p> + +<p>"You have sons, ma'am?" he persisted, +with that implacable optimism to +which, among other things, he no doubt +owed his success in the world.</p> + +<p>I thought of Baby. "Ah yes, of +course," I said. "The finest collection +in Europe."</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"'In Norway,' she says, 'we do not eat one-third +the quantity that the English eat; our +meals are simpler and shorter. I believe that +this is the cause of the enormous amount of +indigestion that is suffered by the English.'"</p> + +<p><i>Daily News and Leader.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>So our doctor, who attributed our indigestion +to lobster mayonnaise, was +wrong again.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page9" id="page9"></a>[pg 9]</span> + +<h3>KINDNESS TO SUBJECTS.</h3> + +<p>[One of our illustrated papers recently published a picture of the King +of <span class="sc">Spain</span> in a motor-car which had broken down. The car was +being pushed along by some helpful people, and the comment on the +picture was, "It is these thoughtful little acts that make royalty so +popular nowadays." Lest it should be thought that the other potentates +of Europe take less trouble to make themselves beloved by their +subjects, we hasten to give a few instances which have come to our +notice.]</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/009a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/009a.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Last week the King of Cadonia had his hat blown +off in the Blümengarten (the beautiful park near +the Royal Palace). This kindly act should deepen +the affection in which the monarch is held by his +People.</span></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/009b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/009b.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">A few days ago the Crown Prince of Schlossrattenheim +had an accident with his aeroplane, which +overturned near Schutzmeer. Fortunately his Royal +Highness fell on a retired Wuerst-haendler who +was walking on the beach</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">The Crown Prince's devotion to his beloved subjects +is well known, and this tactful deed was only +another instance of it</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/009c.png"><img width="100%" src="images/009c.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Yesterday Prince John of Pumpenhosen inadvertently +collided with a pleasure-yacht at the mouth +the harbour of Krebs while trying a new motor +boat. All the passengers were saved and the Prince +showed no signs of fear.</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">This should enhance his great popularity, if such +a thing were possible</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/009d.png"><img width="100%" src="images/009d.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">King Stephan III. of Servilia, while playing on +the links at Nibliksk last week, Initiated one of his +equerries into the humour of the game. By this +thoughtful act his Majesty adds to the deserved +love and reverence in which he is held by the +Servilians of all classes</span>.</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page10" id="page10"></a>[pg 10]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/010.png"><img width="100%" src="images/010.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><i>Alan</i> (<i>to his mother, who is busy with a heavy +house-cleaning</i>). "<span class="sc">Please, Mother, read me a story</span>."</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE WALKERS.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>There were eight pretty walkers who went up a hill;</p> +<p>They were Jessamine, Joseph and Japhet and Jill,</p> +<p>And Allie and Sally and Tumbledown Bill,</p> +<p class="i10">And Farnaby Fullerton Rigby.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They were all in good training and all of them keen,</p> +<p>And their chief wore a coat and a waistcoat of green;</p> +<p>He was always a proud man and kept himself clean,</p> +<p>Did Farnaby Fullerton Rigby.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They intended to lunch when they got to the top</p> +<p>On a sandwich apiece and a biscuit and chop.</p> +<p>The provisions were carefully bought in a shop</p> +<p class="i10">By Farnaby Fullerton Rigby.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They were jesters of merit—the sort who can poke</p> +<p>Funny tales in your ribs till you splutter and choke;</p> +<p>But the best of the lot at a jibe or a joke</p> +<p class="i10">Was Farnaby Fullerton Rigby.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>It was ten of the clock when the walking began,</p> +<p>And they started with Tumbledown Bill in the van;</p> +<p>And the rear was brought up by that excellent man,</p> +<p class="i10">By Farnaby Fullerton Rigby.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They went off at a pace I am bound to deplore,</p> +<p>For they did twenty yards in a minute or more</p> +<p>And a yard or two over, a capital score</p> +<p class="i10">For Farnaby Fullerton Rigby.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They had all that pedestrians fairly can ask:</p> +<p>Smooth roads, sunny weather and beer in a cask,</p> +<p>And a friend who could teach them to stick to their task,</p> +<p class="i10">Viz.: Farnaby Fullerton Rigby.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Yet I somehow suppose that they hadn't the knack,</p> +<p>For in spite of it all they have never come back,</p> +<p>And I own that the future looks dismally black</p> +<p class="i10">For Farnaby Fullerton Rigby.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Now the walkers who seem to be stuck on the hill,</p> +<p>They are Jessamine, Joseph and Japhet and Jill,</p> +<p>And Allie and Sally and Tumbledown Bill,</p> +<p class="i10">And Farnaby Fullerton Rigby.</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>R.C.L.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>King Peter of Servia.</h2> + +<p>(From <i>The Daily Mirror</i>.)</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"The proclamation, however, as given in a later message, reads +thus:—To My Beloved People: As I shall be prevented by illness +from exercising my royal power for some time, I order, by Article +69 of the Constitution, that so long as my cure lasts the Crown +Prince Alexander shall govern in my name. On this occasion I +recommend my dear fatherland to the care of the Almighty.</p> + +<p>(Signed) <span class="sc">Peter</span>." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>"On this occasion" is perhaps a little invidious.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Two consecutive books in <i>The Western Daily Press</i> list +of publications received:—</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Ring Strategy and Tactics.</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">Charles Dickens in Chancery</span>."</p> + +<p>The boxing boom continues.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page11" id="page11"></a>[pg 11]</span> + +<h3>THE EMERGENCY EXIT.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/011.png"><img width="100%" src="images/011.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">Scene</span>—<i>A Tight Place</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Child Herbert</span> (<i>to "Wicked Baron"</i>). "MY LORD, I HAVE EVER +REGARDED YOU AS A PESTILENT VILLAIN—NAY WORSE, AN HEREDITARY IMBECILE. +I THEREFORE RELY ON YOUR BENEFICENT WISDOM TO FIND ME A WAY OUT OF THIS +SINISTER WOOD."</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page13" id="page13"></a>[pg 13]</span> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<p>(<span class="sc">Extracted from the Diary of Toby, M.P.</span>)</p> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, June 22.</i>—Great +muster of forces on both sides. +Not wholly explained by second reading +of Budget Bill standing as first +Order. A section of Ministerialists, +purists in finance, took exception to +proposed procedure. <span class="sc">Holt</span>, spokesman +at mouth of new Cave, put down +amendment challenging <span class="sc">Chancellor +of Exchequer's</span> proposals. Here was +chance for watchful Opposition. If +some thirty Ministerialists would go +with them into Lobby it would not +quite suffice to turn out Ministry; but it +would be better than a Snap Division, +with its personal inconvenience of +preliminary hiding in bath-rooms and +underground cellars.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/013a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/013a.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><i>Wicket-keeper</i> (<i>Mr. <span class="sc">Cassel</span></i>). "How's that?"</p> + +<p><i>Umpire</i> (<i>Mr. <span class="sc">Speaker</span></i>). "Out!"</p> + +<p><i>Batsman</i> (<i>Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George</span></i>). "Rotten antiquated rule!"</p> + +<p>["I did not expect ... that hon. members would go rummaging in the +dustbins of ancient precedent to find obstacles to place in the way of +these proposals."—<i>Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George</span> on his Budget.</i>]</p></div> + +<p><span class="sc">Cassel</span>, adding to Parliamentary +reputation studiously attained, raised +subject on point of order. Underlying +suggestion was that Budget Bill should +be withdrawn and reintroduced under +amended form of procedure. <span class="sc">Speaker</span>, +whilst admitting irregularity, stopped +short of approving extreme course. +Pointed out that the matter might be +put right by moving fresh resolutions.</p> + +<p>This disappointing. Worse to follow. +The <span class="sc">Infant Samuel</span>, making fresh +appearance in new part of understudy +of <span class="sc">Chancellor of Exchequer</span>, conceded +point of procedure made by +Radical Cave. Promised objection should +be fully met. <span class="sc">Holt</span>, amid ironical +cheers from Opposition, said in these +circumstances would not move amendment. +Incident reminded <span class="sc">Walter +Long</span> of story of the Colonel and the +opossum up a tree.</p> + +<p>"Don't shoot!" said the Opossum; +"I'll come down."</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Chancellor of the Exchequer</span> had +come down. No need for Colonel <span class="sc">Holt</span> +to discharge his gun.</p> + +<p>Thus threatened crisis blew over. +Members, cheered by promise of reduction +by one half of proposed increase +in Income Tax, got away early to +attend various functions in honour of +<span class="sc">King's</span> birthday.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Second reading of +Budget Bill moved.</p> + +<p><i>House of Lords, Tuesday.</i>—London +season in full fling. May be said to +reach dizziest height in this birthday +week. Social engagements numerous +and clashing. To-day House of Lords +magnet of attraction of surpassing +force. The thing for <i>grandes dames</i> +to do is to go down to the House +and be present at opening of fresh +tourney round Home Rule Bill. +Accordingly, the peeresses, alive to +their responsibility as leaders of high +thinking and simple living, flock down +to Westminster, filling side-galleries +with grace, beauty, and some finely +feathered hats.</p> + +<p>Seats on floor also crowded. Patriotic +peers arriving late, finding no room on +the benches where the Union Jack is +kept flying, cross over. Temporarily +seat themselves among the comparatively +scanty flock of discredited +Ministerialists. Bishops muster in +exceptional number. Their rochets +form wedge of spotless white thrust +in centre of black-coated laity seated +below Gangway on right of Woolsack. +Space before Throne thronged with +Privy Councillors availing themselves +of the privilege their rank confers to +come thus closely into contact with +what is still an hereditary chamber.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/013b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/013b.png" alt=""/></a><p>"Bill presented to Lords as a sort of lay figure, +which they may, in accordance with +taste and conviction, suitably clothe."</p></div> + +<p>In centre of first row <span class="sc">Carson</span> uplifts +his tall figure and surveys a scene he +has done much to make possible.</p> + +<p>Perhaps in matter of dramatic interest +the play did not quite come up to its +superb setting. Principal parts taken +by <span class="sc">Crewe</span> and <span class="sc">Lansdowne</span>. Neither +accustomed to move House to spasms +of enthusiasm. <span class="sc">Leader of House</span>, +introducing what is officially known as +Government of Ireland Amending Bill, +made it clear in such sentences as were +fully audible that scheme does not go +a step beyond overture towards settlement +proffered by <span class="sc">Premier</span> last March.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Lansdowne</span> expressed profound disappointment +at this lack of enterprise. +"Rather a shabby and undignified +proceeding on the part of a strong +Government," he said, "to come down +with proposal they know to be wholly +inadequate, and to hint that we ought +to assist them in converting it into a +practical and workable measure."</p> + +<p>Actual condition of things could not +with equal brevity be more clearly +stated. Bill presented to Lords as +sort of lay figure, which they may, in +accordance with taste and conviction, +suitably clothe. No assurance forthcoming +that style and fit will be +approved when submitted to House of +Commons, final arbiters.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Bill read a first time, and +ordered to be printed.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page14" id="page14"></a>[pg 14]</span> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—The Commons still +harping on the Budget. <span class="sc">Tim Healy</span> +enlivened proceedings by vigorous personal +attack on "the most reckless and +incapable <span class="sc">Chancellor of the Exchequer</span> +that ever sat on the Treasury +Bench." <span class="sc">Lloyd George's</span> retort courteous +looked forward to with interest.</p> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Wednesday.</i>—When, +shortly after half-past five, <span class="sc">Chancellor +Of Exchequer</span> rose to take +part in debate on new development of +Budget Bill, House nearly empty. Interests +at stake enormous. Situation +enlivened for Opposition by quandary +of Government. But afternoon is hot, +and from the silver Thames cool air +blows over Terrace. Accordingly thither +Members repair, leaving House to +solitude and <span class="sc">Chiozza Money</span>.</p> + +<p>Benches rapidly filled when news +went round that <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> was on +his legs. Soon there was +crowded audience. Sound +of cheering and counter-cheering, +applausive and +derisive, frequently broke +forth. <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> in +fine fighting form. Malcontents +in his own camp +are reconciled. Hereditary +foe in front. Went +for him accordingly. +<span class="sc">Walter Long</span> seated +immediately opposite +conveniently served as +suitable target for whirling +lance. Effectively +quoted from speeches +made by him at other +times, insisting upon +relief of the rate so +heavily burdoned as to make it impossible +to carry out social reforms of +imperative necessity.</p> + +<p>"After these lavish professions of +anxiety to help local authorities, I did +not," said the <span class="sc">Chancellor</span>, "expect +the right hon. gentleman and his friends +would go rummaging in the dustbins of +ancient precedent, to find obstacles to +place in the way of proposals of +reform."</p> + +<p>Carried away by his own eloquence, +the <span class="sc">Chancellor</span>, whilst sarcastically +complimentary to <span class="sc">Walter Long</span>, went +so far as to call him "The Father of +Form IV." The putative parent +blushed. There were cries of "Order!" +and "Withdraw!" <span class="sc">Speaker</span> did not +interpose, and <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> hurried on +to another point of his argument.</p> + +<p>Quite a long time since our old +friend Form IV., at one time a familiar +impulse to party vituperation, was +mentioned in debate. This unexpected +disclosure of its paternity made quite +a stir.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Son Austen</span> followed <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> +in brisk speech that led to one or two +interludes of angry interruption across +the Table. When he made an end of +speaking, debate relapsed into former +condition of languor. Talk dully kept +up till half-past eleven.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Further debate on +Budget.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—<span class="sc">Chancellor of Exchequer</span> +admittedly allured by what +he describes as "attractive features" of +proposal to raise fresh revenue. It is +simply the levying of a special tax on +all persons using titles.</p> + +<p>Idea not absolutely new. Principle +established in case of citizens displaying +crest or coat-of-arms. What is novel is +suggested method of taxation. Differing +from the dog-tax, levied at a common +rate, it is proposed that our old nobility +shall, in this fresh recognition of +their lofty estate, be dealt with on a +sliding scale. A duke will have his +pre-eminence recognised by an exceptionally +high rate of taxation. Marquises, +earls and a' that will be mulct +on a descending scale, till the lowly +knight is reached. He will be compensated +for comparative obscurity in the +glittering throng by being let off for a +nominal sum.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Chancellor</span> fears it is too late to +adopt proposal this year, a way of +putting it which seems to suggest that +we may hear more of it in next +year's Budget.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—<span class="sc">Hayes Fisher's</span> +Amendment to Budget Bill negatived +by 303 votes to 265. Reduction of +Ministerial majority to 38 hailed with +boisterous burst of cheers and counter-cheers.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/014.png"><img width="100%" src="images/014.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">Garden City Washing-day.</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">Our sensitive artist insists on a harmonious colour-scheme.</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>The <span class="sc">Lord Mayor</span> (on hearing a certain +<span class="sc">Peel</span>): "Turn again (in your +grave), <span class="sc">whittington</span>."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>New song for old Cantabs.:—</p> + +<p>"O. B., what can the maté be?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>RUS IN URBE.</h2> + +<p>No, this is not the Russian ballet. +It is the English Folk Dance Society, +and their performances at the Royal +Horticultural Hall at Westminster the +other day showed that the Russian +ballet is not to have things all its own +way. I am not going to moralise upon +the salacious quality of some of the +themes of our exotic visitors, but +certainly it would be difficult to find a +stronger contrast to their ruling passion +than is presented by the purity and +simplicity of these country dances.</p> + +<p>"Sellinger's Bound," danced to an +air that lulled <i>Titania</i> to sleep all +through the winter at the Savoy, was +the most popular, with its ring of a +dozen dancers, hands joined, running +together into the centre of their circle, +as if to honour some imaginary deity—possibly +Mr. <span class="sc">Cecil +Sharp</span>, director of the +Society, who has collected +and revived the +airs to which they dance.</p> + +<p>Then there were the +Morris-dances, "Shepherd's +Hey" (with nothing +about a "nonny-nonny" +in it), and +"Haste to the Wedding." +There might perhaps be a +greater propriety in the +latter if it were confined +to men; but at least it +raised no apprehension +that anybody was going +to "repent at leisure." +In the "Flamborough +Sword" dance, the men +(with no Amazon assistance) raced +through the figure and out again, +eight of them, armed with bloodless +wooden swords—a finely ordered riot.</p> + +<p>"Lady's Pleasure," a Morris-jig for +two men, lays hold of you at the first +bar, and again with a fresh grip and +a tighter as the music slows up for +the dancers to do their "capers"—all +to the music of Mr. <span class="sc">Cecil Sharp</span> at +the piano and Miss <span class="sc">Avril</span> at the fiddle.</p> + +<p>The object of The English Folk +Dance Society is to teach rather than +to perform in public. Hence the rarity +of their displays, and the better reason +why we should seize, when they come, +our chances of assisting at these +delightful exhibitions of an art whose +revival has done so much to restore to +the countryside the unpretentious joys +that gave its name to Merrie England.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"It was the time when Henry III. was +batting with Simon de Montfort and his +Barons"—<i>Straits Times.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>But not at Lord's, which has only just +celebrated its centenary.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page15" id="page15"></a>[pg 15]</span> + +<h3>GREAT ECONOMY EFFECTED BY CO-OPERATION IN ADVERTISEMENT.</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/015.png"><img width="100%" src="images/015.png" alt=""/></a></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>LOVE'S LOGIC.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>My happiness is in another's keeping,</p> +<p class="i2">My heart delivered to a maiden's care,</p> +<p>And she can cast it down or set it leaping</p> +<p class="i2">(The latter process is extremely rare);</p> +<p>Ah, would that love indeed had made me blind,</p> +<p>That I might put her image out of mind!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Yet if I looked at her with eyes unseeing</p> +<p class="i2">Her voice and laughter would not pass unheard;</p> +<p>I should not be a reasonable being,</p> +<p class="i2">I still should tremble at her lightest word;</p> +<p>How could I then gain freedom from the spell</p> +<p>Unless I turned completely deaf as well?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>So, blind and deaf, I might perhaps recover</p> +<p class="i2">A partial peace of mind, but all in vain,</p> +<p>For memories pursue the luckless lover,</p> +<p class="i2">And only death can ease him of his pain.</p> +<p>Thus, having proved that I were better dead,</p> +<p>I think I'll go and talk to her instead.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page16" id="page16"></a>[pg 16]</span> + +<h2>BALM FOR THE BRAINLESS.</h2> + +<blockquote><p> +["If one man has more brains than another, +which enable him to outstrip his fellows, is +not that good fortune? What had he got to +do with it? If your brain is a bad one, it is +not your responsibility. If your brain is a +good one it is not your merit. Some men +have greater physical, mental, moral strength +than others that enables them to win in the +race. That is their good fortune and they +ought to be grateful for it; and the one way +they can best show their gratitude is by +helping those who are less fortunate than +themselves. Men endowed with any, or most, +or all of these fortunate conditions ought not +to be stingy in helping others who have not +been so fortunate as themselves."—Mr. <i><span class="sc">Lloyd +George</span> at Denmark Hill, June 30</i>.] +</p></blockquote> + +<p>As a result of Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George's</span> +vivid and convincing pronouncement +on the responsibilities of the fortunate, +we have been deluged with appeals +from all sorts and conditions of unlucky +correspondents. We select the following +from among the most deserving +cases in the hope that our opulent +readers may avail themselves of the +chances thus offered of redressing the +partiality of fortune.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">The Cry of the Cracksman</span>.</p> + +<p><i>The Sanctuary, Crookhaven.</i></p> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—Endowed by nature with an +imperfect moral sense and a complete +inability to discriminate between <i>meum</i> +and <i>tuum</i>, I was irresistibly impelled +at an early age to adopt the precarious +profession of housebreaker. I have +just served a sentence of three years, +and was on the point of resuming my +career when I read Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George's</span> +epoch-making speech at Denmark Hill, +in which he clearly defines the duty of +the State to redress the inequalities of +moral as well as material endowment +by which so large a proportion of the +community is penalised. I am the +master of a fine literary style and +admirably suited to discharge any +secretarial duties, but it is only right +that I should clearly explain at the +outset that it is no use offering me any +post unless it is so well salaried that I +should never feel it was worth while to +explore or appropriate the contents +of my employer's safe.</p> + +<p>Respectfully yours,</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Raphael Bunny</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="sc">The Luck of the Law</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Railway Carriage Bungalow,</i></p> + +<p><i>Shoreham, Sussex.</i></p> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—It is precisely thirty years +since I was called to the Bar, and +several of my contemporaries have +already been elevated to the Bench, +while Sir <span class="sc">John Simon</span>, who is considerably +my junior, is in the receipt of a +salary probably double that drawn by +an ordinary Judge. My earnings for +the last ten years have exempted me +from income-tax, but this is but a poor +consolation when I consider that were +it not for the caprice of fortune I should +probably be returning £400 or £500 a +year to the Exchequer in super-tax. +But not only have I been badly treated +in regard to mental equipment; I have +been further handicapped by hereditary +conscientious objection to pay any bills. +An annuity of £500 a year, or only one-tenth +of the salary of a Judge, is the +minimum that my self-respect will +allow me to accept in payment of the +State's long-standing debt to</p> + +<p>Yours faithfully,</p> + +<p><span class="sc">William Weir</span>.</p> + + +<p><span class="sc">The Cruelty of Competition.</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—I confidently appeal for your +support in the application for a grant +which I am forwarding to the <span class="sc">Prime +Minister</span>. My son, aged 14, has failed +to win an entrance scholarship at Winchester +and Charterhouse, not from +any fault of his own, but simply owing +to the unfair competition of other candidates +more liberally endowed with +brains. At a modest estimate I calculate +that the extra drain on my resources +for the next eight years in +consequence of this undeserved hardship +will amount to at least £600, which +I can ill afford owing to unfortunate +speculations in Patagonian ruby mines—another +example of that bad luck +which, in the noble words of the <span class="sc">Chancellor +Of the Exchequer</span>, it is the +privilege of the prosperous to remedy.</p> + +<p>I am, Sir, yours expectantly,</p> + +<p>(Rev.) <span class="sc">J. Stonor Brooke.</span></p> + + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><i><span class="sc">Vis inertiæ</span>.</i></p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Lotus Lodge, Limpsfield.</i></p> + </div> </div> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—A victim since birth to congenital +lassitude, which has rendered all +labour, whether manual or mental, distasteful, +nay, intolerable to me, I find +myself at the age of 41 so out of touch +with the spirit of strenuous effort which +has invaded every corner of our national +life that I am anxious to confer on the +State or, failing that, some meritorious +millionaire the privilege of providing +for my modest needs. A snug sinecure +with a commodious residence and a +good car—cheap American motors are +of course barred—represent the indispensable +minimum.</p> + +<p>I am, Sir, yours faithfully,</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Everleigh Slack</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Some day, says the President of the +Aero Club, we shall be able to go into +a shop and buy a pair of wings. But +we can do that already; the only difficulty +is to fly with them.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Gentleman, middle aged, would be glad +of a few correspondents (40 to 60)."</p> + +<p><i>T. P.'s Weekly.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Too Many.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE SILENT CHARMER.</h2> + +<blockquote><p> +[Speaking of flowers a contemporary recently +remarked:—"These careless-looking creatures +filling the air with delight, robbing tired brains +of tiredness, are a delicate texture of coloured +effort that has prevailed out of a thousand +chances, aided in all that effort by man. +Without man they would be but weeds—a +profusion of Nature's quantity."] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>My dearest Thomas, I would not</p> +<p class="i2">Deny the fact that you are clever;</p> +<p>You've taught Dame Nature what is what</p> +<p class="i2">At horticultural endeavour</p> +<p>(She has not got that useful thing,</p> +<p>The shilling book of gardening).</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>She has her merits, but, of course,</p> +<p class="i2">Her wild attempts won't stand comparing</p> +<p>With such a floral <i>tour de force</i></p> +<p class="i2">As that geranium you are wearing;</p> +<p>Yon chosen emblem of your skill</p> +<p>Must surely make her wilder still.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But give me Nature; when we meet</p> +<p class="i2">She does not prattle of her posies,</p> +<p>Dull facts of what begonias eat,</p> +<p class="i2">The dietetic fads of roses,</p> +<p>And how she strove with spade and spud.</p> +<p>Or nipped the green fly on the bud.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>'Tis she that really soothes the brain,</p> +<p class="i2">Spreading her weeds in bright profusion,</p> +<p>And never troubling to explain</p> +<p class="i2">How much they owe to her collusion,</p> +<p>While, Thomas, <i>your</i> achievements seem</p> +<p>To be your one and only theme.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">J. C. Parke</span>, writing in <i>The +Strand Magazine</i> on the best way to +beat <span class="sc">Wilding</span>, says:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"Personally, after close observation and +from playing against him, I would suggest a +determined attack on the champion's forehead +from the base-line." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>That ought to learn him.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"His Majesty has been pleased to confer +the dignity of an Earldom of the United +Kingdom upon Field-Marshal the Viscount +Kitchener of Khartoum, P.G.C., B.O.M.G.C., +S.I.G.C.M., G.G.C.I.E." +</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Newcastle Daily Journal.</i></p> + +<p>The old orders change, yielding place +to new.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>From a magazine cover:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"This magazine has been the turning point +in many a man's career. Spend twopence +and half-an-hour on it.... Price Threepence." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We would rather pay the threepence.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"In our report of the wedding of Mr. Lee +Kwee Law to Miss Chan Siew Cheen we inadvertently +left out the following, who also +sent presents<i>:——"—Straits Echo.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>And then they inadvertently left them +out again.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page17" id="page17"></a>[pg 17]</span> + +<h2>THE CURE FOR CRICKET.</h2> + +<p>There is no longer any doubt that +golf is threatening the supremacy of +our national game. Judged by the +only true standard—the amount of +space allotted to it in the daily press—it +is manifest that the encroachments of +this insidious pastime have now reached +a point where the cricket reformer must +bestir himself before it is too late. We +are convinced that so far we have been +taking much too narrow a view. The +time has come to look for light and +leading outside the confines of our own +Book of Rules. There are other games +besides cricket. Let us call them to +our councils.</p> + +<p>In the first place a valuable hint +may surely be found in the development +of Rugby football. It is common +knowledge what immense results have +followed the introduction, some twenty +years ago, of the Four Three-quarter +System. No spectator (and we cannot +exist without the spectator) would ever +dream now of returning to the old +formation. Very well. The same +principle can be easily adapted to our +requirements in the form of the Three +Batsmen System. The pitch would +become an equilateral triangle, and we +should suggest that the bowler have +the option of bowling (from his own +corner) at either of the two outlying +batsmen (at theirs). Lots of interesting +developments would follow, as, for +instance, the institution of a sort of +silly-point-short-mid-on in the centre +of the triangle. (Should he be allowed +to wear gloves?)</p> + +<p>Golf has also a lesson to teach us. +We are all familiar with the huge +strides that have been made by the introduction +of the rubber-cored ball. +We don't want to plagiarize, although +a rubber-cored cricket ball is a nice +idea. Why not aim at the opposite +extreme and try a ball "reinforced" +with concrete? The tingling of the +batsman's fingers which might result +could be neutralised by the use of a +rubber-faced bat. This reform would, +we believe, have one happy consequence. +People wouldn't be so keen +to play with their legs.</p> + +<p>As to lawn tennis—another dangerous +rival—we hear a good deal in these +days about "foot-faults." That seems +to show the trend of modern thought. +If we are to be in the swim we shall +have to reconsider our no-ball rule. +Why not make it a no-ball every time +unless the bowler has both feet in the +air at the moment when the ball leaves +his hand? One might put up a little +hurdle—nothing obtrusive—only a +matter of a few inches high.</p> + +<p>We believe that something might +even be done by borrowing from hockey +the principle of the semi-circle, outside +of which a goal may not be shot. The +whole pitch might be enclosed in a +circular crease—which would look uncommonly +well in Press photographs. +(We cannot exist without the Press.) +No fielder inside the magic circle would +be allowed to stop the ball with his +feet.</p> + +<p>Finally there is the case of billiards, +not a game that is very closely allied +to cricket, but one from which much +may be learned. How has billiards +brightened itself? By adopting the +great principle of "barring" certain +strokes. Here we have got on to something +really valuable. We propose to +go one better, and draw up a schedule +of the different conditions of barring +under which matches may be played. +It will only remain for secretaries, when +fixtures are made, to arrange the terms +by negotiation. In time to come, +should we be able to carry our point, we +shall all be familiar with such announcements +as the following:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +Notts. <i>v.</i> Surrey. (Cut-barred.) +Gentlemen <i>v.</i> Players. (L.b.w.-barred.) +England <i>v.</i> Australia. (Googly-and-yorker-barred.) +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We do not pretend to have exhausted +the subject, but we have made a start. +We must look about us. Something +may be learned, we firmly believe, even +from skittles and ping-pong. Our +national game cannot afford to exclude +special features. It should have the +best of everything.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/017.png"><img width="100%" src="images/017.png" alt=""/></a><p><span class="sc">"Are you Mrs. Pilkington-Haycock?"</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">"No."</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">"Well, I am, and this is her pew."</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>Professional Candour.</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"The sermon over, a collection was taken, +and hardly a person present did not contribute. +Mgr. Benson's sermon went to the hardest +heart there. Even the journalists contributed."</p> + +<p><i>The Universe.</i></p> +</blockquote> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page18" id="page18"></a>[pg 18]</span> + +<h2>THE HERE, THERE AND LONDON LETTER.</h2> + +<p><i>With apologies to "The Westminster +Gazette."</i></p> + +<p><span class="sc">The Home of the South Saxons</span>.</p> + +<p>Sussex, the county for which Mr. +<span class="sc">C. B. Fry</span> (who hurt his leg in the +Lord's centenary match) used to play +before he moved to Hampshire, is an +attractive division of the country to +the south of London with a long sea +border. Mr. <span class="sc">Kipling</span> has praised it in +some memorable verses, and among +frequent visitors to its principal town, +Brighton, is the <span class="sc">Chancellor of the +Exchequer</span>. The word Sussex is a +contraction of South Saxon. All will +wish the old Oxonian a speedy recovery +from his strain.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">A Monetary Proverb.</span></p> + +<p>The origin of the old saying, "Penny +wise, pound foolish," which has come +into vogue again in connection with +the revised income tax—for who can +deny that the saving of the penny is +wise?—is lost in obscurity; but there is +no doubt that it is very ancient. Many +nations have the same proverb in +different terms as applied to their own +currency. In France the coins to which +the saying best applies would be the +sou and the louis; in America, the +cent and the dollar; and so forth.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Cordiality before Party</span>.</p> + +<p>The circumstance of Mr. <span class="sc">Lulu Harcourt's</span> +unveiling a memorial to Mr. +<span class="sc">Joseph Chamberlain</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Austen +Chamberlain</span> at the Albert Dock Hospital +is not without precedent. On +more than one occasion party differences +have been similarly forgotten. +Thus several golf-players contributed +to <i>The Daily Telegraph</i> shilling fund +in honour of the great <span class="sc">W. G. Grace</span> +some few years ago. Such sinking of +private shibboleths is a very excellent +thing and goes far to show how +thoroughly sound and healthy English +public life really is <i>au fond</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">The Names of Colleges</span>.</p> + +<p>Exeter College, Oxford, which has +just celebrated its six hundredth anniversary, +is not the only college which +bears the same name as that of a city. +Pembroke is another. Keble is, of +course, named after the hymn-writer +and divine; and Balliol, where C. S. C. +played the wag so divertingly, after Balliol. +<i>À propos</i> of Oxford, it is a question +whether that extremely amusing book, +<i>Verdant Green</i>, is still much read by +freshers.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">The Author of <i>The Little +Minister.</i></span></p> + +<p>Sir <span class="sc">James Barrie</span>, who is said to +have written a revue for production this +autumn at a West-End Theatre, must +not be confounded with the French +sculptor, <span class="sc">Barye</span>, in spite of the similarity +of name. <span class="sc">Barye</span> is famous +chiefly for his bronzes of lions; and fortunately, +in making his studies of these +dangerous animals, he escaped the fate +which so often befalls the trainer of +wild beasts whose animals suddenly +turn upon him.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ONCE UPON A TIME.</h2> + +<h3>The Alien.</h3> + +<p>Once upon a time a poet was sitting +at his desk in his cottage near the +woods, trying to write.</p> + +<p>It was a hot summer day and great +fat white clouds were sailing across the +sky. He knew that he ought to be +out, but still he sat on, pen in hand, +trying to write.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, among all the other sounds +of busy urgent life that were filling the +warm sweet air, he heard the new and +unaccustomed song of a bird. At least +not new and not unaccustomed, but new +and unaccustomed there, in this sylvan +retreat. The notes poured out, now +shrill, now mellow, now bubbling like +musical water, but always rich with +the joy of life, the fulness of happiness. +Where had he heard it before? What +bird could it be?</p> + +<p>Suddenly the poet's housekeeper hurried +in. "Oh, Sir," she exclaimed, +"isn't it a pity? Someone's canary +has got free, and it's singing out here +something beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said the poet—"a +canary;" and he hastened out to see +it. But before he could get there the +bird had flown to a clump of elms a +little way off, from which proceeded +sweeter and more tumultuously exultant +song than they had ever known.</p> + +<p>The poet walked to the elms with his +field-glasses, and after a while he discerned +among the million leaves, the +little yellow bird, with its throat trembling +with rapture.</p> + +<p>But the poet and his housekeeper +were not the only creatures who had +heard the strange melody.</p> + +<p>"I say," said one sparrow to another, +"did you hear that?"</p> + +<p>"What?" inquired the other sparrow, +who was busy collecting food for a very +greedy family.</p> + +<p>"Why, listen," said the first sparrow.</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul," said the second. +"I never heard that before."</p> + +<p>"That's a strange bird," said the +first sparrow; "I've seen it. It's all +yellow."</p> + +<p>"All yellow?" said the other. "What +awful cheek!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it?" replied the first +sparrow. "Can you understand what +it says?"</p> + +<p>"Not a note," said the second. +"Another of those foreigners, I suppose. +We shan't have a tree to call our +own soon."</p> + +<p>"That's so," said the first. "There's +no end to them. Nightingales are bad +enough, grumbling all night, and swallows, +although there's not so many of +them this year as usual; but when it +comes to yellow birds—well."</p> + +<p>"Hullo," said a passing tit, "what's +the trouble now?"</p> + +<p>"Listen," said the sparrows.</p> + +<p>The tit was all attention for a minute +while the gay triumphant song went on.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "that's a rum go. +That's new, that is. Novel, I call it. +What is it?"</p> + +<p>"It's a yellow foreigner," said the +sparrows.</p> + +<p>"What's to be done with it?" the +tit asked.</p> + +<p>"There's only one thing for self-respecting +British birds to do," said +the first sparrow. "Stop it. Teach +it a lesson."</p> + +<p>"Absolutely," said the tit. "I'll go +and find some others."</p> + +<p>"Yes, so will we," said the sparrows; +and off they all flew, full of righteous +purpose.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the canary sang on and +on, and the poet at the foot of the tree +listened with delight.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, however, he was conscious +of a new sound—a noisy chirping and +harsh squeaking which seemed to fill +the air, and a great cloud of small angry +birds assailed the tree. For a while +the uproar was immense, and the song +ceased; and then, out of the heart of +the tumult, pursued almost to the +ground where the poet stood, fell the +body of a little yellow bird, pecked to +death by a thousand avenging furies.</p> + +<p>Seeing the poet they made off in a +pack, still shrilling and squawking, but +conscious of the highest rectitude.</p> + +<p>The poet picked up the poor mutilated +body. It was still warm and it +twitched a little, but never could its +life and music return.</p> + +<p>While he stood thoughtfully there an +old woman, holding an open cage and +followed by half-a-dozen children, hobbled +along the path.</p> + +<p>"My canary got away," she said. +"Have you seen it? It flew in this +direction."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I have seen it," said the +poet, and he opened his hand.</p> + +<p>"My little pet!" said the old woman. +"It sang so beautifully, and it used to +feed from my fingers. My little pet."</p> + +<p>The poet returned to his work. "'In +tooth and claw,'" he muttered to himself, +"'In tooth and claw.'"</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page19" id="page19"></a>[pg 19]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/019.png"><img width="100%" src="images/019.png" alt=""/></a><p>HOW TO UTILISE THE ART OF "SUGGESTION."</p> + +<p><span class="sc">The Doctor, six down at the turn, "suggests" to his opponent that +they are playing croquet, and wins by two and one</span>.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerics.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Tents of a Night</i> (<span class="sc">Smith, Elder</span>) is a quite ordinary story, +about entirely commonplace persons, which has however +an original twist in it. I never met a story that conveyed +so vividly the nastiness of a summer holiday that isn't nice. +The holiday was in Brittany, just the common round, +Cherbourg, Coutances, Mont St. Michel, and the rest of it; +and the holiday-makers were <i>Mr.</i> and <i>Mrs. Hepburn</i>, their +niece <i>Anne</i>, and a rather pleasant flapper named <i>Barbara</i> +whom they had taken in charge. <i>Anne</i> is the heroine and +central character of the holiday; and certainly whatever +discomforts it contained she seems to have done her successful +best to add to. "This is a beastly place!" was her +written comment upon St. Michel; and it was typical of her +attitude throughout. Of course the real trouble with <i>Anne</i> +was something deeper than drains or crowded hotels or the +smell of too many omelettes: she was in love. Apparently +she was more or less in love with two men, <i>Dragotin Voinovich</i> +(whose name was a constant worry to <i>Anne's</i> aunt, +and I am bound to say that I share her feelings about it) +and <i>Jimmy Fordyce</i>, a pleasant young Englishman who +pulls the girls out of quicksands and makes himself +generally agreeable. In the end, however—but on second +thoughts the end, emotionally speaking, of <i>Anne</i> is just +what I shall not tell you, as it is precisely the thing that +redeems the book from being commonplace. This you will +enjoy; and also those remarkably real descriptions of +various plage-hotels in August, the noise, the crowds, the +long hot meals, the sunshine and constant wind, the sand +on the staircase, and the general atmosphere of wet bathing-gowns—all +these are a luxurious delight to read about +in a comfortable English room. Miss <span class="sc">Mary Findlater</span> +evidently knows them.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Dippers who have given a new meaning to the classical +motto, <i>Respice finem</i>, are so common amongst novel readers +that <span class="sc">Patricia Wentworth</span> will only have herself to thank +if many who are unfamiliar with her work fail to do justice +to a book nine-tenths of which is thoroughly interesting +and excellently well-written. As a boy, the hero of <i>Simon +Heriot</i> (<span class="sc">Melrose</span>) is misunderstood, and although <i>Mr. +Martin</i>, his step-father, is a somewhat stagey specimen of +the heavy and vulgar papa, the child's emotions (as, for +instance, when he pretends that the storm of his parent's +wrath is the ordeal of the Inquisition or some far-away +battle of paladins in which he is contending) are finely +conceived, and many of the later passages in <i>Simon's</i> life—his +unhappy love affair with <i>Maud Courtney</i>, his relations +with his grandmother and with <i>William Forster</i>, the schoolmaster—are +quite engrossing and give occasion for memorable +sketches of character. It is when the natural end of +the story is reached, and <i>Simon</i> has come into his own and +has just been wedded to his proper affinity, that the structure +seems to me to fall with a crash. I might perhaps, +though not without reluctance, have pardoned an impertinent +railway accident which leaves the young man apparently +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page20" id="page20"></a>[pg 20]</span> +crippled for life, but the last chapters, in which he finds +spiritual comfort and (after the doctors have given up hope) +complete anatomical readjustment through the ministrations +of faith healing, alienated me entirely. From the +outset the obvious scheme of the novel is to bring the hero +back happily to the home and, if you will, the rustic church +of his ancestors; and, though the science of Christian +healing may do all that its adherents claim for it, it has +about as much to do with the case of <i>Simon Heriot</i> as the +dancing dervishes or the rites of Voodoo.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Demetra Vaka</span> has melted my literary heart. By way +of homage to her I eat the dust and recant all the hard and +bitter things I said and thought in my youth concerning +Ancient Greece; especially I apologise, on behalf of myself +and my pedagogues, for after regarding its language as a +dead one. <i>A Child of the Orient</i> (<span class="sc">Lane</span>) has taught me +better, though the last object the author appears to have in +view is to educate. This "Greek girl brought up in a +Turkish household" writes to amuse, entertain and charm, +and her success is abundant. +Whether it is attributable to +the romantic particulars of +the Turkish household or to +the ingenuous personality of +the Greek girl, I hesitate to +say, since both are so captivating; +but this I know, +that, considered as descriptive +sketches or personal episodes, +each of the twenty-two +chapters is a separate delight. +For the ready writer +material is not wanting in +the Near East; a fine theme +is provided in the national +ambition of the Greek, who +cannot forget his glorious +past and be content with his +less conspicuous present. As +for the love interest, who +should supply this better +than the Turk? In these +days of cosmopolitanism +there are bound to be romantic complications in the lives +of a polygamous people situate in a monogamous continent. +By way of postscript the authoress travels abroad and deals +with alien matters; her impression, I gather, is that if her +ancestors of classical times could see our world of to-day +and express an opinion upon it the best of their praise +would be reserved for the fact of the British Empire, and +the worst of their abuse be spent upon what is known as +American humour. I am so constituted that I cannot but +be prejudiced in favour of a writer gifted with so profound +a judgment.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The creatrix of <i>Pam</i> must look to her laurels. Slovenliness +is the aptest word to apply to the workmanship of +<i>Maria</i> (<span class="sc">Hutchinson</span>), the latest heroine of the Baroness +<span class="sc">Von Hutten</span>. <i>Maria</i> has the air of having been contracted +for, while that fastidious overseer who lurks at the elbow +of every honest craftsman, condemning this or that phrase, +readjusting the other faulty piece of construction, has +frankly abandoned the contractor. <i>Maria</i> was the daughter +of an artist cadger (name of <i>Drello</i>), friend of the great +and seller of their autograph letters, whereby he was +astute enough to make a comfortable living. <i>Maria</i> had a +dull brother named <i>Laertes</i>, who accidentally met a highness, +who fell very abruptly in love with <i>Maria</i> and made +her strictly dishonourable proposals. <i>Maria</i> drew herself +up, compelled him to apologise and go away, until the +nineteenth chapter, when she made similar proposals to the +highness, now a duly and unhappily married <i>King of +Sarmania</i>. But she is saved by the chivalrous love-lorn +dwarf, <i>Tomsk</i>, who, with the irascible singing-master +<i>Sulzer</i>, is responsible for the chief elements of vitality in +this rather suburban romance. And I found myself never +believing in <i>Maria's</i> wondrous beauty and quite sharing +<i>Sulzer's</i> poor opinion of her singing. But this of course +was mere prejudice.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>In <i>Grizel Married</i> (<span class="sc">Mills and Boon</span>) Mrs. <span class="sc">George de +Horne Vaizey</span> exhibits the highest-handed method of +treating Romance that ever I met. For consider the +situation to be resolved. <i>Dane Peignton</i> was engaged to +<i>Teresa</i>, but in love with <i>Lady Cassandra Raynor</i>, whose +husband, I regret to add, was still alive. <i>Dane</i> and <i>Cassandra</i> +had never told their love, and concealment might +have continued to prey on their damask cheeks, if Mrs. +<span class="sc">Vaizey</span> had not (very +naturally), wished to give us +a big emotional scene of +avowal. It is the way in +which this is done that compels +my homage. Off go the +characters on a picnic, obviously +big with fate. <i>Teresa</i> +goes, and <i>Dane</i> and <i>Cassandra</i>, +the fourth being +<i>Grizel</i>, whom you may recall +pleasantly from an earlier +book; but, though she fills +the title <i>rôle</i> in this one, +she has little to do with its +development. Of course I +saw that something tragic +was going to happen to +somebody on that picnic—cliffs +or tides or mad bulls +or something. But I don't +suppose that in twenty +guesses you could get at the +actual instrument of destiny. +<i>Cassandra</i> chokes over a fish-bone! That's what I +meant about Mrs. <span class="sc">Vaizey's</span> courage. And the reward of +it is that, after your first moment of incredulity, the fish-bone +isn't in the least bit absurd. Poor <i>Cassandra</i> comes +quite near to expiring of it; and <i>Dane</i>, having thumped +and battered her into safety, sobs out his wild and whirling +passion, while <i>Grizel</i> and poor <i>Teresa</i> have just to sit about +and listen. It really is rather a striking and original climax; +incidentally it is far the best scene in an otherwise not very +brilliant tale. But, having attended that picnic, I shall be +astonished if you don't, want to go on to the end and see +how it all straightens out.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/020.png"><img width="100%" src="images/020.png" alt="" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">Bargain</span> Two-seater, with most of the accessories; only done +fifty miles; water-cooled-engine; owner giving up driving.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"At 9.30 o'clock, as the fog lifted somewhat, the rescuing steamer +Lyonnesse had sighted the Gothland, fast on the rocks, with a bad +list to starboard, and apparently partly filled with pater."</p> + +<p><i>Daily Chronicle.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Our Special Correspondent's" father seems to be a big +man.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"While the class watches, the teacher pronounces all the words. +Then the whole class pronounces them while the teacher points, +skipping around."—<i>Hawaii Educational Review.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>A pretty, scene, if the teacher is a man of graceful +movements.</p> +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, July +1, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 24357-h.htm or 24357-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/3/5/24357/ + +Produced by Hagay Giller, 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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