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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147,
+October 7, 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, Vol. 147, October 7, 1914
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 15, 2009 [EBook #28092]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note: In the article "THE HELPMEET", various words and
+phrases have been struck through in the printed version. These passages
+are marked thus:- ~Maybe love was~
+
+
+  PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+  VOL. 147
+
+  OCTOBER 7, 1914.
+
+
+CHARIVARIA.
+
+General VILLA has now declared war on President CARRANZA. Everybody's
+doing it.
+
+       * * *
+
+Is there, we wonder, a single unfair weapon which the Germans have not
+used? It is now said that not infrequently a German band is made to play
+when the enemy's infantry advances to attack.
+
+       * * *
+
+A regrettable mistake is reported from South London. A thoroughly
+patriotic man was sat upon by a Cockney crowd for declaring that the
+KAISER was a Nero.
+
+       * * *
+
+Servia, _The Times_ announces, will in future be called Serbia in our
+contemporary's columns. We would suggest that in the same way Bavaria
+might be called Babaria.
+
+       * * *
+
+All German soldiers are close-cropped. To show, apparently, that they
+have the courage of the conviction they deserve.
+
+       * * *
+
+The German officers in France are said to be extremely careful as to
+what they eat, betraying a great fear of being poisoned. It is, of
+course, a fact that one grain of vermin-killer would dispose of any one
+of them.
+
+       * * *
+
+It has been suggested that the explanation of the KAISER may be that he
+is a "throw-back." His parents were gentlefolk, but his ancestor,
+FREDERICK WILLIAM I., was a well-known undesirable.
+
+       * * *
+
+It is now stated that the reason why the German troops destroyed the
+historic edifices of Louvain and Rheims was the KAISER'S order that no
+stone was to be left unturned to prove that the Germans are the apostles
+of Culture.
+
+       * * *
+
+It has been decided, after all, that SHAKSPEARE may be played in
+Germany; and the proposal that the name of the bard should be changed to
+Wilhelm Saebelschuettler has been dropped in deference to the wishes of
+the KAISER, who thought it might lead to confusion.
+
+       * * *
+
+It has, we are glad to see, been denied that CARPENTIER, the famous
+boxer, has been wounded. This reminds us, by-the-by, of one more
+miscalculation that the German War Party made. In choosing their date
+for the outbreak of war they relied on the fact that CARPENTIER was not
+yet liable for service.
+
+       * * *
+
+The Germans have had a bright new idea, and are calling us a nation of
+shopkeepers. Certainly we have been fairly successful so far in
+repelling their counter attacks.
+
+       * * *
+
+"GERMAN PIES SHOT." _Times._
+
+Sound policy this. The enemy cannot fight without his commissariat.
+
+       * * *
+
+A well-known Floor Polish firm has issued a notice declaring that it is
+entirely a British concern. However, we shall not complain of their
+dealing with an alien enemy if they care to supply a little of it for
+the benefit of German manners.
+
+       * * *
+
+Dr. KARL VOLLMOeLLER, who is chiefly notable for his spectacle "The
+Miracle," has, _The Express_ tells us, been acting for the past month as
+Germany's head Press agent in Rome, and has now sailed for New York. One
+would have thought that there was greater need for him in Germany, where
+only a miracle can save the situation.
+
+       * * *
+
+Publishers seem to be realising that books, to sell nowadays, must have
+warlike titles. Mrs. KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN'S new volume is, we note,
+called _A Summer in a Canon_.
+
+       * * *
+
+By the way, _The Price of Love_ is announced. It is six shillings.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: Hawker. "THIS AIN'T MY USUAL WAY O' GITTIN' A LIVIN',
+LIDY; BUT, OWIN' TO THE WAR, I----"
+
+_Housekeeper._ "THAT'S ALL NONSENSE! WHY, TO MY KNOWLEDGE YOU HAVE BEEN
+ABOUT FOR THE PAST TEN YEARS."
+
+Hawker. "YOU'LL PARDON ME, LIDY, BUT I'M REFERRIN' TO THE SOUF AFRIKIN
+WAR."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+EPITHETS FOR ACTORS.
+
+The dramatic critic of _The Daily Chronicle_, speaking of the first
+performance of _Mameena_, observes, "Mr. Oscar Asche, jutting,
+preponderant and softly corrugated, was a splendid Zulu chief."
+
+Following this distinguished example, we have endeavoured to express the
+histrionic inwardness of some of our leading actors and actresses on
+similar lines:--
+
+Sir GEORGE ALEXANDER, dolicocephalic, fimbriated and supra-lapsarian,
+interpreted the _role_ of the archdeacon with consummate skill.
+
+Sir HERBERT BEERBOHM TREE, goliardic, tarantulated and pontostomatous,
+invested the character of the great financier with a fluorescent charm.
+
+Mr. AINLEY, prognathous, salicylic and partially oxydised, made a superb
+lover.
+
+Miss GLADYS COOPER, lambent, pyramidal and turturine, fully realized the
+polyphonic cajoleries of _Seraphina_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A Coincidence.
+
+_Thursday._--The Kaiser distributes 30,000 iron crosses.
+
+_Friday._--Great Britain declares pig-iron contraband of war.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Members of the Tooloona Rifle Club have collected 1,000 fat sheep
+    as a gift to the British troops. The price of butter has been
+    reduced to L4 per ton, and the wheels of the export trade will be
+    immediately set in motion."
+
+_Daily Chronicle._
+
+How fortunate that the price of lubrication fell just in time.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ANOTHER "SCRAP OF PAPER."
+
+    [_"The Times" of October 1st vouches for the following Army Order
+    issued by the German KAISER on August 19th: "It is my Royal and
+    Imperial Command that you concentrate your energies, for the
+    immediate present, upon one single purpose, and that is that you
+    address all your skill and all the valour of my soldiers to
+    exterminate first the treacherous English and walk over General
+    French's contemptible little Army."_]
+
+  WILHELM, I do not know your whereabouts.
+    The gods elude us. When we would detect your
+  Earthly address, 'tis veiled in misty doubts
+          Of devious conjecture.
+
+  At Nancy, in a moist trench, I am told
+    That you performed an unrehearsed lustration;
+  That there you linger, having caught a cold,
+          Followed by inflammation.
+
+  Others assert that your asbestos hut,
+    Conveyed (with you inside) to Polish regions,
+  Promises to afford a likely butt
+          To Russia's winged legions.
+
+  But, whether this or that (or both) be true,
+    Or merely tales of which we have the air full,
+  In any case I say, "O WILHELM, do,
+          Do, if you can, be careful!"
+
+  For if, by evil chance, upon your head,
+    Your precious head, some impious shell alighted,
+  I should regard my dearest hopes as dead,
+          My occupation blighted.
+
+  I want to save you for another scene,
+    Having perused a certain Manifesto
+  That stimulates an itching, very keen,
+          In every Briton's best toe--
+
+  An Order issued to your Army's flower,
+    Giving instructions most precise and stringent
+  For the immediate wiping out of our
+          "Contemptible" contingent.
+
+  Well, that's a reason why I'd see you spared;
+    So take no risks, but rather heed my warning,
+  Because I have a little plan prepared
+          For Potsdam, one fine morning.
+
+  I see you, ringed about with conquering foes--
+    See you, in penitential robe (with taper),
+  Invited to assume a bending pose
+          And eat that scrap of paper!
+
+  O. S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+UNWRITTEN LETTERS TO THE KAISER.
+
+No. III.
+
+(_From the EMPEROR-KING OF AUSTRIA-HUNGARY._)
+
+MY VERY DEAR BROTHER AND BEST FRIEND,--I seize a few moments of leisure
+to write and congratulate you, as I congratulate myself, on this
+constant succession of almost incredible victories that have brought new
+laurels to your arms. Your presence in Paris at the head of the splendid
+troops whom you have conducted from triumph to triumph places the
+coping-stone on your life's work. Oh, that it had been possible for your
+dear old grandfather--I did not always value him as he deserved--to have
+lived to see this glory. But, then, I suppose your part in the work
+would have been less brilliant and prominent, so, perhaps, all is for
+the best as it is.
+
+To have captured the whole French army; to have driven the English army
+into the sea and drowned them in what they call their own element (by
+the way, when are you going to make your triumphal entry into London?);
+to have brought the ungrateful Belgians to recognise you not merely as
+their conqueror but also as their benefactor--all this is really almost
+enough of honour for one man. But in addition you have made the plans
+which have kept so many of the disgraceful Russians cooped up in their
+own country, and you will soon, I am sure, lead your troops to Moscow
+and on to Petersburg. My own brave fellows shall march shoulder to
+shoulder with them. Nothing will be impossible to these armies thus
+united and thus led.
+
+What my noble soldiers have hitherto done has been tremendous and
+overwhelming. You have, of course, read the bulletins issued by our War
+Office. These, however, give an inadequate idea of what has taken place,
+and you will, I am sure, forgive me if with the natural pride of an old
+man I relate to you these matters in their true proportions. We have
+made a military promenade through Montenegro and Servia and have annexed
+both these troublesome countries. Only ten Servians and four
+Montenegrins have been left alive, so that in future, it may be hoped,
+we shall not be vexed by any of their conspiracies. In the Adriatic, we
+have made mincemeat of the combined British and French fleets, and have
+thus removed from the wretched Italians any temptation to join in the
+war against us. It was a magnificent victory, quite equal to that in
+which your grand fleet sunk the whole of the British fleet in the North
+Sea. Finally, as you know, we have driven the Russians before us like
+chaff before the wind. Many hundred thousand Russians, with guns,
+ammunition and battle flags, have been taken prisoners and are interned
+here in Vienna. All these mighty deeds have been performed by our
+soldiers and sailors at an infinitesimal cost. I doubt if we have had
+two hundred men killed and wounded. Surely it is a great thing to be
+alive in these glorious days.
+
+What pleases me, I may say, as much as anything else, is the wonderful
+example of generosity and humanity which your army and mine have been
+able to offer to the world. I shudder to think what would have happened
+to Belgium, to Germany and to ourselves, had the French, the Russians
+and the English been victorious. Villages would have been burnt,
+civilians with their women and children would have been massacred,
+churches and cathedrals would have been laid in ruins, and whole
+countries would have been devastated. It is to our glory that nothing of
+this sort has happened; but, after all, we need not take credit for
+having acted as Christians and gentlemen. We could do no other.
+
+I am arranging for a _Te Deum_ in St. Stephen's church to thank God for
+all the blessings He has vouchsafed to our arms. I wonder if you would
+consent to attend. I would arrange the date to suit you. And I hope you
+will bring with you some of those fine upstanding fellows of yours who
+have fought through the war. Some foolish persons consider them stiff
+and hard, but, for myself, I like to see their soldierly pride. Pray
+give my regards to your gracious Empress, and my love to the little
+princes. But, of course, they must be quite grown up by now.
+
+Your devoted Brother and Friend,
+
+FRANCIS JOSEPH.
+
+P.S.--I have just heard that a large number of Russians are approaching
+Vienna. No doubt they are sent to sue for peace.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+How to be Useful in War Time.
+
+    "The usefulness of the map is increased by its giving weights in
+    metres."--_Morning Post._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE INCORRIGIBLES.
+
+_New Arrival at the Front._ "WHAT'S THE PROGRAMME?"
+
+_Old Hand._ "WELL, YOU LAY DOWN IN THIS WATER, AND YOU GET PEPPERED ALL
+DAY AND NIGHT, AND YOU HAVE THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!"
+
+_New Arrival._ "SOUNDS LIKE A BIT OF ALL RIGHT. I'M ON IT!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Very proper Cook_ (_horrified at reports of German
+atrocities_). "REALLY, MUM, IT SEEMS AS IF THE GERMANS ARE NOT AT ALL
+THE THING."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE LAST LINE.
+
+II.
+
+I HAVE said that our motto is "Soldier and Civilian Too." That is our
+strength and our weakness; our weakness because it leaves us a little
+uncertain as to how we stand in matters of discipline.
+
+I happened to be Corporal of the Guard the other evening--a delightful
+position. For the first time I had a little authority. True I sometimes
+give the man next to me a prod in the wind and whisper, "Form fours,
+idiot," but it is an unofficial prod, designed to save him from the
+official fury. Now for the first time I was in power, with the whole
+strength of military law behind me. So of course I got busy. As soon as
+the first guard had been set, and the rest of them, with their
+distinguished corporal and commonplace sergeant, were in the guard tent,
+I let myself go.
+
+"Now then, my lad," I said to one, "look alive. Just clear this tent a
+bit, and then fetch some straw for my bed to-night. When you've done
+that, I'll think of something else for you. We've all got to work these
+days. Bustle up."
+
+Without looking up from the paper he was straining his eyes to read, he
+murmured lazily, "Oh, go and boil your head," and bent still lower over
+the news. The others sniggered.
+
+For a moment I was taken aback. Then I saw that there was only one
+dignified thing to do. I went out and consulted my solicitor.
+
+"James," I said, as soon as I had found him, "I desire your advice.
+Free," I added as an afterthought.
+
+"Go on," said James, sitting up and putting the tips of his fingers
+together.
+
+"It is like this. I am Corporal of the Guard." James looked impressed.
+"Corporal of the Guard," I repeated; "a responsible position.
+Practically the whole safety of the camp depends upon me. In the
+interests of that safety I found it necessary to give some orders just
+now. The reply I received was, 'Go and boil your head.' What ought I to
+do?"
+
+James was thoughtful for a little.
+
+"It depends," he said at last.
+
+"How depends?" I asked indignantly. "He told me to go and boil my----"
+
+"Exactly. So that it depends on who told you. If it was the Sergeant of
+the Guard whom you accidentally addressed----"
+
+"Help!" I murmured, struck by a horrible fear.
+
+"In that case," went on James, "it would be your duty to obey orders.
+Obtaining a large saucepan of fresh water, you would heat it to,
+approximately, 212 degrees Fahrenheit, at which point bubbles would
+begin to appear upon the surface of the pan. Then, immersing the head
+until the countenance assumed a ripe beetroot colour, you would return
+it to the Sergeant of the Guard, salute, and ask him if he had any
+further instructions to give you ... No," added James, "I think I am
+wrong there. It would not be necessary for you to salute. Only
+commissioned officers are saluted in the British Army."
+
+I had been thinking furiously while James was speaking.
+
+"It _wasn't_ the sergeant," I said eagerly. "I'm sure it wasn't. I
+noticed him particularly when we were forming up. No, James, it was an
+ordinary private."
+
+"In that case the position is more complicated. On the whole I think it
+would be your duty to convene a court-martial and have the fellow shot."
+
+I looked at my watch.
+
+"How long does it take to convene a court martial?" I asked. "I've
+never convened one before."
+
+"What matter the time!" said James grandly. "The mills may grind slowly,
+but they grind exceeding small."
+
+"Quite so. But in about an hour and a quarter the guard is changed; and
+if, as is probable, the man who insulted me is then on guard himself,
+_he_ will have the rifle. And if he has the rifle, I don't quite see how
+we are going to shoot him."
+
+"You mean he mightn't give it up?"
+
+"Yes. It would be rank insubordination, I admit, but in the
+circumstances one would not be surprised at his attitude."
+
+"That is a good point," said James. "It had escaped me." He was silent
+again. "There's another thing, too, I was forgetting," he added. "If he
+were shot, his wife might possibly object and make a fuss. The affair
+would very likely get into the papers--you know what the Press is. It
+might give the Corps a bad name."
+
+We were both silent for a little.
+
+"Suppose," I said, "the death penalty were not enforced, and he were
+merely given three days in cells?"
+
+"But he has to get back to his work on Monday."
+
+"True. Really, it's very hard to see how discipline _can_ be maintained.
+I almost wish now that I wasn't a temporary non-commissioned officer. As
+a private one simply has the time of one's life, telling corporals all
+day long to go and boil their heads. I wish I were a private again."
+
+"There's one thing you can do," said James. "You can report him to the
+Sergeant of the Guard."
+
+"And what's the good of that?"
+
+"Only that it's probably your duty," said James austerely. "And I should
+think it's also your duty to get back to the guard-tent as soon as
+possible."
+
+I rose with dignity.
+
+"I do not consult my solicitor simply to be told my duty," I said
+stiffly. "All I want to know is, can I bring an action against him?"
+
+"No," said James.
+
+"In that case I will return. Good evening."
+
+I went back to the guard-tent. The mutineer was still reading, but now
+there was a light to read by. He looked up as I came in. I had had that
+uneasy feeling all along, and now I knew. It _was_ the Sergeant.
+
+I saluted. It may be wrong, as James says, but a salute or two thrown in
+can't do any harm.
+
+"May I speak to you, Sergeant?" I said respectfully, yet with an air
+which implied that the Germans were upon us and that the news must be
+kept from the others.
+
+We went outside together.
+
+"Awfully sorry," I said; "it was rather dark. I'm an ass."
+
+"My dear man, that's all right," he said. "By the way you'd better see
+about getting some straw in. I've got to see the Adjutant." He went off,
+and I returned to the tent.
+
+"I want one of you to help me get some straw," I said mildly.
+
+Three of them jumped up at once. "You stay here," they said, "_we_'ll
+get it."
+
+So there you are; there's nothing wrong with the discipline. At the same
+time if it _were_ necessary to shoot anybody, I am not quite sure how we
+should proceed.
+
+  A. A. M.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A POSSIBLE SOURCE.
+
+Dear Mr. Punch,--Having recently dropped into several London theatres
+and halls of variety I have been struck by the numerical strength,
+agility and apparently abounding vitality of the young men forming the
+chorus. These gallant fellows sing and caper with the utmost spirit
+throughout the whole evening, both in musical comedy or revue; and in
+London alone, where revues are now being postponed at many of the
+outlying halls, there must be more than a thousand of them. Now and then
+they even go so far as to impersonate recruits--the chorus to the
+recruiting songs which have crept into more than one programme--and they
+make, I can assure you, Sir, a very brave show with their rifles and
+their military paces, a little accelerated perhaps by the exigencies of
+the tune, but a marvel of discipline none the less.
+
+Watching these brisk and efficient male choruses at work, the thought
+has come to me--in fact has often been forced upon me by the martial
+nature of the musical number which they were engaged in rendering with
+so much capability and cheerfulness--that at a time when England is
+particularly in need of her young men in the field, the audiences of
+London might consent to forgo a little of the pleasure that comes from
+watching athletic youths covered with grease-paint and gyrating in the
+limelight, and, by expressing their readiness to see those necessary
+evolutions carried out by older men, liberate so much good material to
+join the Army. Such is the power of the make-up (I am told) that a man
+of fifty could easily be arranged to look sufficiently like a man of
+half his age, at any rate without imperilling the success of the
+entertainment from the point of view of the spectator. And of course the
+girls will remain in all their charm, since girls cannot enlist.
+
+The point may be worth considering. The decision, I feel sure, rests
+entirely with the public. If the public says: "Let the young men go, and
+give us more mature choristers for a while, and we will patriotically
+endeavour to endure the privation"--then all the young men will, of
+course, enlist as one. But unless the public says this they must remain
+in the choruses against the grain.
+
+I am, Sir, Yours gratefully,
+
+OVER AGE.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Censor at Work.
+
+Beneath a photograph of a naval officer _The Daily Mirror_ says:--
+
+    "A daring raid has just been made by Commander Samson ... The small
+    picture shows the commander."
+
+Beneath the same photograph _The Daily Mail_ says:--
+
+    "A famous British naval airman (nameless by order of the Censor)."
+
+But the order of the Censor came too late. _The Mirror_ had given the
+great secret away to the KAISER, and the whole course of the war was
+altered.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Recruiting Officer._ "WHAT'S THE GOOD OF COMING HERE AND
+SAYING YOU'RE ONLY SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD? GO AND WALK ROUND THAT YARD AND
+COME BACK AND SEE IF YOU'RE NOT NINETEEN."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: "I 'OPES YER MISTESS'LL 'SCUSE ME BEIN' SO LATE WITH THE
+WASHIN'. YER SEE, I DUSSENT COME IN DAYLIGHT FOR FEAR OF THE GOVERNMENT
+PINCHIN' MY 'ORSE FOR THE WAR."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE SAVING OF STRATFORD.
+
+[_It has been decided, we gather, to go on playing SHAKSPEARE in Berlin,
+because SHAKSPEARE is so closely connected with the German race._]
+
+  This was so good of you, so like your grace,
+    Ye on whose brows the brand of Rheims is graven,
+  To spare the poet of our common race
+    And find forgiveness for the Bard of Avon;
+  And all the little lore he feebly guessed,
+    Phantasy, rhetoric, and trope and sermon,
+  To clasp politely to your mailed breast,
+    Refine, transmute and render wholly German.
+
+  Seeing in _Henry V._ a Prussian King,
+    Tracing in _Hamlet_ a more moody KAISER,
+  You put new might into the master's wing,
+    He seems more wonderful to us, and wiser;
+  Not as he dimly sang in ages gone
+    He warbles to us now, but wild with culture,
+  Exchanging for the mere parochial Swan
+    The full-mouthed war notes of the Potsdam Vulture.
+
+  So shall he live, and live eternally
+    (In humble homage to the War Lord's mitten)
+  "This precious stone set in the silver sea,"
+    Heligoland, of course, and not Great Britain:
+  A thousand carven saints are lain in dust
+    In lands the Prussian Junker sets his boot on,
+  But WILHELM SHAKSPEARE and his honoured bust
+    Shall save themselves by being partly Teuton.
+
+  And when the hooves of those imperial swine
+    Leap, as of course they will, the ocean's borders,
+  And England's trampled down from Thames to Tyne,
+    And Wells is burnt, and Winchester, by orders,
+  It may be tears shall start into the eyes
+    Of helmed colonels in our Midland valleys,
+  And they shall spare the tomb where SHAKSPEARE lies;
+    He was a German (_Deutschland ueber alles_).
+
+  Almost I seem to see the Uhlans stand,
+    Paying their pious sixpences to enter
+  That little homestead of the Fatherland
+    That housed the dramatist in Stratford's centre;
+  A trifle flushed, maybe, with English beer,
+    But mutely reverent and not talking chattily,
+  They write beneath their names: "A friend lives here;
+    Not to be ransacked. Signed, _The Modern ATTILAE_."
+
+  A glorious scene. The voice of KRUPP is dumb;
+    Not pining now for Frankfort or for Muenich,
+  The sub-lieutenant slides with quivering thumb
+    A picture-postcard underneath his tunic.
+  Till then, if any dawn of doubt creeps in
+    How best to judge the Bard and praise him rightly,
+  Let me implore the actors of Berlin
+    To play _Macbeth_ to crowded houses nightly.
+
+  EVOE.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE INTERPRETERS.
+
+"May I go into the village to get my hair cut?" asked Sinclair of my
+wife. "I'll promise to be back for tea."
+
+Upon her assurance that Madame Mercier was lying down and was not at all
+likely to appear, permission was granted. We do not generally allow
+Sinclair to go out of the grounds at present. He is acting as the
+central link which makes the continuance of the social life possible to
+us. For I do not think that we could have undertaken (with our
+deplorable ignorance of French) to entertain Belgian refugees at all had
+he not been staying with us. As it is, it works beautifully, though
+Madame Mercier and her two daughters speak no English, for Sinclair's
+French is perfectly adequate.
+
+It was during his absence that we learned that my neighbour, Andrew
+Henderson, the dairy farmer, had also taken in a Belgian--a woman who
+was to work on the farm during the winter.
+
+"Here's another chance for you, Sinclair," said I, as he appeared at the
+gate. "It looks as if you will have to call round every morning to
+interpret and give 'em a good start for the day."
+
+Sinclair was full of zeal and set off next day after breakfast. From the
+drawing-room window we watched his triumphant entry into the farm-yard
+at the foot of the hill. But he came back in a dejected frame of mind.
+
+"She's called Suzanne," he told us, "and she's quite a nice-looking sort
+of woman, and she handles a turnip-cutter like an expert; but she talks
+nothing but Flemish."
+
+"We might have thought of that," said the Reverend Henry. "Still, I
+daresay they'll manage all right."
+
+"On the contrary," said Sinclair. "Henderson sent Suzanne to get the
+letters last night. She was gone a long, long time, and at last came
+back with three live fowls in a sack. She had been chasing them round
+the hen-house for all she was worth. Things can't go on like that, you
+know."
+
+The Reverend Henry had an idea. "The only way out of it," he said, "is
+for you and Madame Mercier both to go. She knows Flemish."
+
+"Yes, that's it," said I. "Henderson tells you what he wants; you hand
+it on to Madame Mercier in French; she transmits it to Suzanne in
+Flemish--and there you are!"
+
+"Right-o!" said Sinclair. "We'll have a shot to-morrow morning."
+
+Madame Mercier, who is a kindly, gentle creature, was most anxious to
+help, and again we viewed the operations in the farm-yard. The Reverend
+Henry got out his field-glasses (which have since been sent to Lord
+ROBERTS) and we watched the little corps of interpreters getting to
+work, while Suzanne, eager and expectant, like a hound on the leash,
+waited, shovel in hand. But it all ended in confusion and head-shaking
+and a dreary retreat up the hill. Madame Mercier seemed to be much
+amused.
+
+"We have decided to adjourn," said Sinclair. "The truth is, we were not
+getting on at all. It looks as if you will have to come too."
+
+"I was always afraid there were weak spots in you, after all, Sinclair,"
+said the Reverend Henry. "It does not surprise me. You are all right in
+table French or even in domestic, railway or restaurant French, but as
+soon as we get outside of your beat into agricultural French----"
+
+"It isn't that," said Sinclair. "I'm all right. It's that confounded
+fellow, Henderson. I'm hanged if I can understand a word of his Scotch.
+Never heard such a lingo in my life."
+
+It is true that Henderson, who comes from some obscure district far
+North even of this, is a little difficult to understand. I have found
+him so myself.
+
+"He said he wanted Suzanne to 'redd up the fauls,' as far as I could
+gather. Well, I have no idea what the fauls are, and I don't see how she
+is going to read them up in a language she doesn't understand. I had to
+give him up. We can't get on without your help."
+
+That afternoon the Interpretation Committee, now increased to four
+active members, for Henry had insisted on coming too as referee, took up
+its position in the farm-yard in the form of a chain, along which
+communication was to pass from Henderson, through me, Sinclair and
+Madame Mercier to Suzanne. It was a little embarrassing for Suzanne, but
+she stood her ground well and waited in an admirably receptive mood,
+while the various items percolated through. Henderson gave me in careful
+detail the whole of his commands for her normal daily life, and
+everything seemed to go splendidly. But I am afraid the thing must have
+passed through too many hands before it reached its destination; for
+Suzanne, after many cheerful nods, suddenly broke off and turned on her
+heel. Then she secured an axe, which was lying against the bothy door,
+and walked with a steady and fixed purpose, never turning her head, out
+into the lane, through the gate and up the hill. We watched her
+spellbound till she reached the horizon, and there saw her pause, roll
+up her sleeves and furiously attack an old spruce tree.
+
+It is impossible to say who was to blame. But it is clear that the
+instructions (as the Frenchman said of BRAHMS' Variations) had been
+_diablement changes en route_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+INDIA: 1784-1914.
+
+  The job was for us, grin and bear;
+    We'd lit on India's dust an' drought;
+  We knew as we were planted there,
+    But scarcely how it came about;
+  And so, in rough and tumble style,
+    And nothing much to make a shout,
+  We set our backs to graft a while,
+    And meant to stay and stick it out.
+
+  Ten hundred risky, frisky Kings,
+    And on the whole a decent lot;
+  And several hundred million things
+    That trusted us with all they'd got;
+  And so we blundered at it straight,
+    And found the times was pretty hot;
+  And so they smiled and called it Fate,
+    And Fate it was, as like as not.
+
+  Our law was one for great and small--
+    We heard 'em honest, claim for claim;
+  We smooth'd their squabbles for 'em all,
+    And let 'em pray by any name;
+  And so we left enough alone,
+    But learnt 'em plenty all the same;
+  We show'd 'em what they should be shown,
+    And tried to play the decent game.
+
+  For all our work we've not got much?
+    P'r'aps not: but now there's come a scrap
+  That's got us good with lies and such,
+    And gave 'em just the chance to snap;
+  And fools had thought they likely would
+    (That's German-made and rattle-trap);
+  They'd shout--the KAISER said they should--
+    And, happen, wipe us off the map.
+
+  From snow to sand that shout has burst,
+    And German lies are well belied;
+  And flood calls field for who'll be first--
+    They're proud to share the Empire-pride.
+  It's them for Britain at the test;
+    We knew they'd never stand aside;
+  For when we tried and did our best
+    The beggars must have known we tried.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The German Campaign of Lies.
+
+From a book of reference:--
+
+    "'Berlin Work.' See 'Embroidery.'"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+News of a serious character reaches us from _The Toronto Daily Mail_,
+which announces in its index of contents:--
+
+    "Austrian Fleet Bombards Montenegro's Only Teapot."
+
+Another one of true Britannia metal is being sent to our gallant ally.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: "FARVER FINKS HE'S GOT A GERMAN SPY. 'E'S SITTIN' ON 'IS
+'EAD. 'E'LL NEED 'ELP--MUVVER'S OUT!"
+
+Illustration: "THAT'S THE CHAP--'IM WIVOUT A COLLAR!"
+
+Illustration: "NO!--NOT 'IM--THAT'S FARVER!"
+
+Illustration: "OH, LUMME! YOU'VE MIXED 'EM UP NOW. I DUNNO WHICH IS
+WHICH."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: UNREPORTED CASUALTY TO THE FOOTBALL OF THE 85TH INFANTRY
+REGIMENT OF THE ENEMY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HOW TO BRIGHTEN WARFARE.
+
+The contents of a poster of an esteemed contemporary (I confess that I
+got no further than the poster), which announced "Training Eagles to
+Fight Airships," have led me to speculate whether something further
+might not be achieved in similar directions.
+
+Why, for instance, should not rabbits be trained to upset siege guns?
+The innocent and docile character of the creatures would be a valuable
+asset in work of this nature. Even if seen--and among grass or
+undergrowth on a dark night a rabbit of ordinary intelligence might
+reasonably hope to escape detection--their real purpose might be
+cleverly masked until it was too late. Leisurely approaching the object
+of attack, lulling the suspicions of a dull-witted sentinel or patrol by
+stopping now to cull a leaf, now to wash a whisker, the well-trained
+rabbit would have no difficulty in creeping to within striking distance.
+Then suddenly rushing forward and throwing its whole weight against the
+nearest wheel of the cannon it would tilt it from its foundation and
+fling it headlong to irretrievable destruction, very likely pinning
+several members of the gun company among its ruins.
+
+If it is objected that the strength of an average rabbit would be
+unequal to the task, are there not, I would ask, strong rabbits among
+rabbits, just as there are strong men among men? None of the rabbits of
+my acquaintance could, I admit, overturn a mowing-machine; but then
+neither could I myself balance a coach-and-four upon my neck, yet I have
+seen men upon the stage who could and did. The first object of the
+efficient trainer would be, of course, to select suitable rabbits.
+
+Surely something too might be done with white mice? By gnawing through
+the tent ropes of a sleeping enemy--especially on wet and stormy
+nights--they would engender a sense of strain and insecurity among our
+opponents that could not be without an appreciable influence on their
+temper and _moral_ throughout the campaign. The tents of commanding
+officers of notoriously choleric nature should be the objects of
+persistent attention in this way.
+
+The suitability of parrots for use in warfare is obvious. Their especial
+duty would be to give misleading words of command at points of critical
+importance during a battle. A stealthy night attack might be converted
+into a hasty "strategic retirement" by an observant parrot ingratiating
+itself among the enemy's ranks and raising the cry, "Up, Guards, and at
+'em!"
+
+It is perhaps late in the season to utilise the services of trained
+wasps to any extent, but the possibilities of other insect auxiliaries
+should not be overlooked.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Prime Minister of New Zealand as reported in _The Timaru Herald_:--
+
+    "Just one word more. With regard to Canada's offer that is reported
+    in this evening's paper, my opinion of it may be summed up in three
+    words: Dibra, Jukova and Ipek."
+
+This is one of the things we could have summed up more lucidly
+ourselves, though perhaps not so concisely.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Will the Soldiers who saw Lady Thrown off Tramcar on Saturday
+    evening, about 8 o'clock, please communicate."
+
+    _Advt. in "Northampton Daily Chronicle."_
+
+Another lovers' tiff in the gloaming?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE ROAD TO RUSSIA.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Cyclist_ (_taking initiative on being
+caught without a light_). "DOUSE YOUR GLIM, MATE; WE'LL BE HAVING THEM
+ZEPPELINS ALL OVER US."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BURGOMASTER MAX.
+
+  Belgian soldiers, martial heroes, in a world of fire and flame,
+  By their fortitude and daring have achieved immortal fame,
+  But there's one, a mere civilian, who a _vates sacer_ lacks--
+          Burgomaster MAX!
+
+  Therefore let a sorry rhymer offer you his humble meed,
+  And salute your priceless service to your country in her need,
+  All unarmed yet undefeated, never turning in your tracks--
+          Burgomaster MAX!
+
+  _Athanasius contra mundum_--you remind us of the tag,
+  You whose fearless manifestoes never brooked the German gag;
+  Bucking up your fellow-townsmen when their hearts were weak as wax--
+          Burgomaster MAX!
+
+  Now, alas! we read the foemen have decided to deport
+  And intern you for a season in some dismal German fort,
+  For your presence was distasteful to the Hun who sacks and "hacks"--
+          Burgomaster MAX!
+
+  Yet, whatever fate befalls you, as the ages onward roll
+  You will live in deathless lustre on your country's Golden Roll,
+  For you faced the German bullies with the stiffest of stiff backs--
+          Burgomaster MAX!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There are German financiers who now allude to him as "Dishonoured BILL."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A SEA CHANGE.
+
+  Ponto in town is strictly _comme il faut_,
+    A member of the most exclusive set
+  (His pedigree and dwelling all may know
+    Who read page 90 in the "Dogs' Debrett").
+
+  His mien is dignified, his gait is slow;
+    If upstart strangers try to catch his eye
+  He kicks the dust behind with scornful toe,
+    Averts his lifted nose and passes by.
+
+  His friends he greets with careful etiquette,
+    Permits his well-poised tail-tip to vibrate,
+  Then treads with them the solemn minuet
+    That antique custom and good form dictate.
+
+  But Ponto by the sea! ah, who would know
+    This damp wild ragamuffin on the strand
+  Who importunes the passers-by to throw
+    Big stones across the opal-shining sand?
+
+  Ponto dishevelled, ears turned inside out,
+    Has suffered some sea change; his social worth
+  Is all forgot; he leads a Comus rout,
+    Tykes of the shore and curs of lowly birth.
+
+  Yelping with joy he brings his wolfish pack
+    About my legs, as, dripping from the sea,
+  I pick my way thro' shingle and wet wrack
+    Beleaguered by this bandit company.
+
+  But when the day comes round to leave the shore
+    Ponto puts off this maniac _Mr. Hyde_;
+  Becomes a _Dr. Jekyll_ dog once more
+    And homeward goes serene and dignified.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AT THE PLAY.
+
+"MAMEENA."
+
+Those who are not in the mood just now for a whole evening of exotic
+melodrama might look in at the Globe Theatre about 9.15, and derive a
+few moments' distraction from a Zulu wedding dance. I found it a better
+show than anything I have ever seen in the native compounds at Earl's
+Court. The company, of course, was mixed, but the white contingent had
+caught the local colour (coffee) and showed great aptitude in imitating
+the methods of the aborigines. Naturally there were conventions; the
+chiefs talked fluent English, while the Zulu supers employed their own
+vernacular, except in certain formal phrases, as when the "praisers" (my
+programme's name for a sort of universal _claque_) punctuated the
+speeches of their king with cries of "Yes, O Lion!" or "Yes, Great
+Beast!" No doubt our honoured visitors could perceive many technical
+points in which the ruling race exposed itself as having something yet
+to learn, but they tactfully concealed all signs of superior
+civilisation; and the British audience, well pleased with the novelty
+and picturesqueness of the scenes, were content to waive invidious
+distinctions.
+
+The little brochure that was thrown in with the programme informs me
+that the martial spirit of the Zulus (at that time under their own
+_regime_) was "identical in many respects with 'Prussian Militarism.'"
+Certainly there was a savagery about the way in which they progged the
+air with their assegais that made one picture them as _capables de
+tout_. But any comparison, whether in point of costume or royal bearing,
+between _King Mpande_ and the GERMAN KAISER must have been in favour of
+the latter. On the other hand, his son _Umbuyazi_ was a far nobler
+figure than my conception of the CROWN PRINCE.
+
+I may perhaps be excused if I do not dwell on the merits of the chief
+actors or of the plot--not too easy to grasp at the first, thanks to the
+difficulty we found in following the unfamiliar names of the characters.
+Both these interests were dominated by the attraction of the admirable
+setting. Fortunately the scenes were numerous and brief, but we still
+suffered considerable tedium from the affected and drawling delivery of
+the heroine. The frequent assurances which we received as to the
+exceptional quality of _Mameena's_ beauty, and the fact that, to our
+knowledge, she had three husbands in the course of the play, never quite
+convinced us of the overwhelming character of her charms. Whether, with
+a fair chance, she would have worked them successfully on a fourth man,
+_Allan Quatermain_--the one white man who retained his native hue--I
+cannot say, for somehow a stage diversion always intervened just as they
+had begun to embrace. The reason, by the way, for _Quatermain's_
+existence was never made too clear. Sportsman and dealer in general
+stores, his habit of hanging vaguely about Zulu kraals and Zulu impis,
+on nodding terms with just anybody, did not greatly increase my pride of
+race, notwithstanding the statement made to him by _Mameena_: "I shall
+never love another man as I love you, however many I marry."
+
+Mr. OSCAR ASCHE, who dramatised Sir RIDER HAGGARD'S _Child of Storm_,
+did not aim at subtlety. But a rather nice question arose over the rival
+immoralities of _Mameena's_ second and third husbands. _Prince Umbuyazi_
+(No. 3) had expressed regret to his old friend and comrade, _Saduka_
+(No. 2), for appropriating his wife; but the apology was not received in
+the spirit in which it was tendered, and during the fight between
+_Umbuyazi_ and his brother _Cetshwayo_ the wronged husband went over
+with his impis to the camp of the enemy. _Umbuyazi_ made a strong
+protest against this treachery, but he must have seen (for he had much
+intelligence) that his case was a bad one; and this reflection no doubt
+had something to do with the final act by which (in the old Roman way)
+he fell upon his own assegai and dropped backwards--an admirable
+gymnastic--off one of the high rocks above the Tugela.
+
+I have already referred to the difficulties of Zulu nomenclature, and I
+would add that the native custom of addressing a man by his proper name
+in the course of every sentence materially extended the operation of the
+play. It must have made a difference--which I, for one, bitterly
+grudged--of nearly half-an-hour. How much more satisfactory the economy
+of a certain author of whom CHARLIE BROOKFIELD used to say: "He read his
+play to the company, and it took three solid hours, _and even so he
+didn't put in any of the 'h's.'_"
+
+  O. S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: SOME OF THE GREATEST FIGURES OF ALL AGES.
+
+_Recently discovered, by German research, to have been of Teutonic
+birth._
+
+JULIUS KAISER.
+
+GENERAL
+HERCULES.
+
+JOHANNA
+VON ARKSTEIN.
+
+WILHELM
+SCHAKESPEAR.
+
+FRANZ
+DRAKENBERG.
+
+DR. JOHANNSSOHN.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "An official telegram from Nish received in London states that the
+    Servian commanders agree that the enemy all along the front is
+    employing explosive bullets. Every soldier carries 20 per cent. of
+    explosive cartridges."
+
+    _Daily Graphic._
+
+The fact that 80 per cent. of Austrian cartridges refuse to explode may
+account for the Austrian "victories."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Whelan replied: 'Yes, I sold the beef.' The military authorities
+    pressed the case."
+
+    _Liverpool Echo._
+
+A case of pressed beef, we presume.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Doctor (at Ambulance Class)._ "MY DEAR LADY, DO YOU
+REALISE THAT THIS LAD'S ANKLE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE _BROKEN_ BEFORE YOU
+BANDAGED IT?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE WAR IN ACACIA AVENUE.
+
+When we are not running out after "specials" we are absorbed in the
+mimic fight of Acacia Avenue--the desperate conflict between Mrs.
+Studholm-Brown, of The Hollies, and Mrs. Dawburn-Jones, of Dulce Domum.
+They have husbands, these amiable ladies, but the husbands are mainly
+concerned with the commissariat and supply department, and are neither
+allowed nor desired in the actual fighting line.
+
+The very day the war began, a huge flagstaff with a Union Jack of
+proportionate size rose in the grounds of Dulce Domum. It must have been
+ordered in advance. I present this fact to the German Press Bureau as
+showing that, at any rate, Mrs. Dawburn-Jones always intended war. But
+the next day Mrs. Studholm-Brown went six feet better with a flagstaff
+and three square yards better with a Union Jack.
+
+Then we knew that it was war to the death in our Avenue and waited for
+the next move in the campaign.
+
+"The Hollies" broke out into Red Cross notices; "Dulce Domum" announced
+itself to be the office for the organisation of local relief.
+
+One morning we rose with a sort of idea that there was an eruption in
+the air, and found the flags of Servia, France, Russia and Belgium
+waving over "Dulce Domum." That day Mrs. Studholm-Brown met me in the
+Avenue. She condescended to me. "Oh, could you tell me the colours of
+the Montenegrin flag?" I couldn't; but it was the first time the great
+lady had ever spoken to me. "Pink with green stripes," I replied
+tremblingly.
+
+The very next day seven Allied flags (including a pseudo-Montenegrin)
+flew over "The Hollies." Mrs. Studholm-Brown had added Japan before the
+MIKADO'S ultimatum had expired--which will prove to the German Press
+Bureau that there was a secret understanding between our Far-Eastern
+Ally and Mrs. Studholm-Brown.
+
+But flags were not the only things that were flaunted. "Dulce Domum"
+opened fire with an array of flannel shirts hung on clothes-lines across
+the tennis-court. "The Hollies" replied with a deadly line of pyjamas.
+
+Then the proprietress of the latter threw open her grounds--a croquet
+court and a drying ground--as a place of rest for Territorials off duty.
+Mrs. Dawburn-Jones promptly enlisted her husband as a special constable
+and had squads drilled on her tennis lawn.
+
+So the fight went on--with slight successes on both sides, but nothing
+decisive--till one day when Mrs. Dawburn-Jones went to town in a taxi
+and returned with a family of negroes from the Congo. It was a splendid
+sight to see her leading them through the grounds and discoursing to
+them in her best Boulognese. Mrs. Studholm-Brown wriggled with
+mortification.
+
+Then her chance of a counter-attack arrived. She had, or her husband
+had, or her husband's brother-in-law had, a second cousin who was an
+officer, and, what was more, a wounded officer. He was persuaded to
+spend a week-end of his convalescence at "The Hollies." His hostess
+walked him proudly up and down all the paths which were in full view of
+"Dulce Domum." It was magnificent to see her adjust his sling. At that
+moment I dare not have trusted Mrs. Dawburn-Jones with a gun or the
+officer would have been in as great peril as in the trenches. How it
+will end I can scarcely imagine. I like to picture a great day of
+victory. Then, if the CROWN PRINCE be allowed to take up his abode on
+_parole_, in some quiet suburban home, I am sure "The Hollies" will snap
+him up. And if "The Hollies" secures the CROWN PRINCE no power in this
+world can prevent Mrs. Dawburn-Jones from securing the KAISER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE HELPMEET.
+
+"May I come in?" said Cecily, knocking at my study door.
+
+"If you insist," said I.
+
+"I only want to use the telephone," she explained, as if that made it
+any better.
+
+"You couldn't take it away and use it somewhere else?" I asked.
+
+She was unmoved. "It needn't disturb you," she said. "I'll be as quiet
+as a mouse."
+
+"Won't that be rather dull for the people at the other end of the
+line?" I ventured.
+
+"Now, you go on with your writing," she said severely. So I went on.
+
+_Herbert closed the door softly behind him and went out, leaving
+Ermyntrude alone. She had let him go. He had gone. He had left her
+alone. Her--Ermyntrude--alone. It has been truly said that women are
+queer creatures. They do not like being left alone._
+
+_CHAPTER LVII._
+
+_Herbert picked up his hat and stick and passed out of the spacious hall
+into the street, closing the door softly behind him. It was his habit
+when angry to close doors softly behind him. He was frequently angry;
+men often are, and with reason._
+
+"There's something I want to ask you," said Cecily.
+
+"Ask away," I said brusquely.
+
+"Not _you_," said Cecily, frowning at me and then smiling at the
+receiver.
+
+_And so Herbert found himself in the street. Where should he go? What
+should he do ... say ... think ... feel...? He was quite unable to
+decide. Somehow he couldn't bring his mind to bear on the subject. He
+could hardly recall the name of the lady with whom he had been
+conversing, let alone what all the trouble was about. He paused and lit
+a cigarette. Absolutely there was nothing else for it._
+
+"How are you getting on?" I asked Cecily a little peevishly.
+
+"Nicely, thanks," she answered. "And you?"
+
+"Oh, nicely, too," said I, with a sigh.
+
+_As for ~Whatshername~ Ermyntrude, she was in little better case. She felt
+as if nothing was ever going to happen to her again; almost, she
+thought, things had given up happening for good. She felt ... but she
+hardly knew what she felt. ~After all, love wasn't~ ~Maybe love was~ She
+could not bear to think of love. Engaged? That is what she had been but
+wasn't any longer. Who was to blame? Was it Herbert? Was it she? Was it
+~Exchange~ Providence? The more thought she gave to the matter the further
+she seemed to be from a definite conclusion. ~At times it seemed as if~ ~At
+one time it appeared as though~ ~At one time~ ~At times~ ~At 2284 Mayfair~
+~Mayfair 2248~ ~2248 Mayfair~ ~Twice two is four, twice four is eight.~_
+
+"Are you coming to the end of your friends?" I asked Cecily.
+
+"If I'm not wanted I'll go," said she snappily.
+
+"You're always wanted, of course," I apologised.
+
+"Then I'll stay," said she brightly.
+
+_CHAPTER LVIII._
+
+_As Herbert turned his back on Kensington and walked towards ~Gerrard~
+Piccadilly, he would, had he looked behind him, have seen a malevolent,
+sinister man emerge from the shadow and follow him stealthily. ~But
+Herbert did not look behind him.~ ~And why not?~ ~It is impossible to say.~
+~Suffice it that he didn't.~ Nay, that is exactly what Herbert did see
+when he looked behind him. "My God," said he, turning pale...._
+
+"Can we dine with the Monroes on Tuesday?" asked Cecily.
+
+"That depends a good deal on whether they invite us," I answered.
+
+"It's only Jack trying to be funny," Cecily told the receiver.
+
+_"As I was saying," continued Herbert, "it's James MacClure."_
+
+_"No less," said the other, with a fiendish smile._
+
+_It is necessary to go back a little in order ~to property~ properly to
+appreciate the momentous importance of the arrival of this man at this
+juncture. He was destined to play a large part in Herbert's future; the
+manner of their acquaintance was this._
+
+_~Many years ago McClure had~ ~James was the son of rich but~ ~Jas, as his
+college friends used to call~ ~McClure~ ~James~ Producing a revolver from his
+hip pocket, Herbert shot James McClure through the heart._
+
+Cecily flapped about with the Directory.
+
+"Trying to find a number that you haven't used already?" I enquired.
+
+_~CHAPTER LIX.~_
+
+_~Ermyntrude~_
+
+_~CHAPTER LIX.~_
+
+_~ERMYNTRUDE~_
+
+_~CHAPTER LIX.~_
+
+_~MINNIE~_
+
+_CHAPTER LIX._
+
+_On the whole it must be agreed that Herbert was well rid of this
+Ermyntrude person. There was nothing particular against her except that
+she was a woman, but surely to goodness that is enough. When Eve arrived
+the trouble began; when telephones were invented it came to a head.
+Think what literature might have achieved had it not always been
+obsessed by its desire to find some brief definition good enough for
+woman! I think it is our chief difficulty in appreciating the supposed
+greatness of VERGIL that he couldn't do any better than "Varium et
+mutabile semper." If VERGIL had been a butcher or a grocer or any other
+unhappy shopkeeper liable to the daily insult of receiving household
+orders, he must have expressed it more thoroughly. For my own part,
+sitting here in my study and thinking the matter over to myself, I
+cannot do better than adopt the phraseology of the telephone
+instructions: "Intermittent Buzz."_
+
+_And so Herbert didn't marry, but lived happily ever afterwards. After
+all, Ermyntrude was essentially a woman; they all are, confound them,
+but some of us are not so lucky as was Herbert in finding out in time._
+
+And that, of course, was the chapter that Cecily suddenly chose to read
+... nor was it less than an hour before peace was declared again. The
+terms, however, were not unfavourable. I was partially forgiven, and,
+what was better still, Cecily wholly departed. I then wrote a revised
+version of
+
+_CHAPTER LIX._
+
+_Ermyntrude was still where we left her, but was beginning to collect
+her scattered thoughts when Herbert re-entered. He closed the door
+behind him, neither softly nor loudly, but just ordinarily, and without
+more ado took Ermyntrude in his arms._
+
+_"We will never again think of all that came between us," he murmured._
+
+_She smiled up at him._
+
+_"It shall be as nothing," he added._
+
+_"It shall," said she._
+
+"It shall indeed," say I.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MOON-PENNIES.
+
+    (_Children in the Midlands give this name to the disc shaped fruit
+    of Honesty._)
+
+  My garden is a beggar's pitch
+    That Heaven throws its coins upon;
+  And in the Summer I am rich,
+    And in the Winter all is gone;
+  Yet as the long days hurry by
+    I keep my pitch, content and free,
+  Where in a sweet profusion lie
+    Fair Marigolds and Honesty;
+  And oft I turn and count for fun
+    My largess from the night and noon--
+  The golden tokens of the sun,
+    The silver pennies of the moon!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: "I'M SORRY TO 'AVE TO SAY, MUM, 'E'S BIN A VERY BAD DOG
+WHILST YOU WAS HOUT. 'E'S BIN AN' EAT UP 'IS PATRIOTIC RIBBON."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CANNON FODDER.
+
+(_Thus the War Party designates the rank and file of the German army._)
+
+  They are coming like a tempest, in their endless ranks of grey,
+  While the world throws up a cloud of dust along their awful way;
+  They're the glorious cannon fodder of the mighty Fatherland,
+  Who shall make the kingdoms tremble and the nations understand.
+      Tramp! tramp! tramp! the cannon fodder comes.
+      God help the old; God help the young; God help the hearths and homes.
+      They'll do his will that taught them, on the earth and on the waves,
+      Then, like faithful cannon fodder, still salute him from their graves.
+
+  From the barrack and the fortress they are pouring in a flood;
+  They sweep, a herd of winter wolves, upon the scent of blood;
+  For all their deeds of horror they are told that death atones
+  And their master's harvest cannot spring till he has sowed their bones.
+
+  Into beasts of prey he's turned them; when they show their teeth and growl
+  The lash is buried in their cheeks; they're slaughtered if they howl;
+  To their bloody Lord of Battles must they only bend the knee,
+  For hard as steel and fierce as hell should cannon fodder be.
+
+  Scourge and curses are their portion, pain and hunger without end,
+  Till they hail the yell of shrapnel as the welcome of a friend;
+  They rape and burn and laugh to hear the frantic women cry
+  And do the devil's work to-day, but on the morrow die.
+
+  A million souls, a million hearts, a million hopes and fears,
+  A million million memories of partings and of tears
+  March along with cannon fodder to the agony of war.
+  Have they lost their human birthright? Are they fellow-men no more?
+      Tramp! tramp! tramp! the cannon fodder comes.
+      God help the old; God help the young; God help the hearths and homes.
+      They'll do his will that taught them, on the earth and on the waves,
+      Then, like faithful cannon fodder, still salute him from their graves.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The War and Physical Development.
+
+    "Here some words have been exercised by the Censor."
+
+    _Manchester Evening News._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Kiel is very delightful in its own way, but it misses _in toto_ the
+    charm and originality of Cowes."
+
+So said _The Tatler_ in the very early days of the war, and yet the
+Germans still seem to prefer the waters of Kiel to the superior
+attractions of the Solent.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A NUT'S VIEWS ON THE WAR.
+
+INTERESTING CHAT WITH MR. REGINALD FITZJENKINS.
+
+He was manicuring himself when I called, and I was asked whether I would
+see him now, or wait two hours till he had finished. I said I would see
+him now; so I was shown into his dressing-room.
+
+"I am sorry," said Mr. FitzJenkins, "but if you will call at such an
+early hour----" It was twelve o'clock, but I apologised. "And what can I
+do for you?" asked my host.
+
+"My paper," I said, "would like to have your views on the War."
+
+"Well, if you ask me what I think of the War," said Mr. FitzJenkins,
+"it's a noosance--an unmitigated noosance. No one talks anything but War
+nowadays--and the papers contain nothing but War news. Even the Men's
+Dress Columns have disappeared. I can tell you it has caused the
+greatest inconvenience to me personally. You may wonder why I am
+manicuring myself. I'll tell you why. My manicurist--the only man in
+London who knew how to manicure--turned out to be a beastly German or
+Austrian or something, and has gone off to his beastly War. I even
+offered to double the man's fees--at which the fellow, instead of being
+grateful, was grossly impertinent. If he hadn't been such a great
+hulking brute I'd have knocked him down.... So I have to do the business
+myself. Couldn't trust it to anyone else.... And then look here. You see
+this little pot of pink paste, which has to be used to give the nails
+the necessary blush? Do you know that the price of that has doubled
+since the War?"
+
+I expressed my horror by a suitable gesture.
+
+"Of course," said Mr. FitzJenkins, "I don't want to be hard on the
+Government--I know they have a lot to think of--but I do consider they
+ought to have prevented this somehow. They regulate the price of food,
+but forget that there are other necessities.... Again, some of my
+dividends have not been paid. A nice thing if one is to be forced to
+earn one's own living!"
+
+"You haven't volunteered to fight, then?" I said.
+
+"Good lor, no! That might suit some people, but not me. It's not a job
+for anyone of any refinement. Why, I am told that, when they are
+fighting, for days together even the officers don't shave or change
+their linen. I'm not that sort, thank you. There are plenty of rough
+fellows to do it, I suppose. And in any event I could not fight
+alongside of French soldiers. Have you seen the cut of their trousers?"
+
+Mr. FitzJenkins laughed outright.
+
+"And are you doing anything to help in the crisis?" I asked.
+
+"Oh yes, oh yes," said Mr. FitzJenkins. "You mustn't imagine that it is
+only those who fight who are helping. What about the women who are left
+behind? I help amuse 'em--keep 'em bright. I'm 'carrying on.' I'm not of
+your panicky sort. It's just as well that there should be a few men like
+me left in town. We give it a tone."
+
+"I trust, Mr. FitzJenkins," I said, "that you are not opposed to the
+War."
+
+"Oh, dear, no. Please don't imagine that. It had to be fought, I
+suppose. And, although I am not taking an active part in it myself, I
+wish the War well, and hope that the KING and KITCHENER will pull it off
+all right."
+
+"May I publish that? I think it would encourage them."
+
+"Certainly. And you might say this. I am convinced we are going to win.
+No good could ever come to a man who wears an out-of-date moustache like
+the KAISER.... Oh, certainly I am in favour of the War. Why, I have just
+ordered several pairs of khaki spats.... Believe me, I wish our
+soldier-fellows well, and in my opinion they ought to be encouraged. I
+met a lot of 'em trudging along in Pall Mall yesterday, poor devils of
+Territorials, I fancy, and I waved my stick to 'em. Nothing would please
+me more than to see the country to which that impudent manicurist has
+returned receive a thrashing."
+
+Just then the young man who had opened the door to me came in and asked
+his master if he could see him privately for a minute. Mr. FitzJenkins
+begged me to excuse him, and I did so. When he came back his face was
+flushed and almost animated.
+
+"Atrocious! Infamous! I shall write to the papers about it," he said.
+"How dare he leave me helpless like this? Off to enlist, indeed!"
+
+"Who?" I asked.
+
+"My man," said Mr. FitzJenkins.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: ENTERPRISE ON OUR EAST COAST.
+
+THE ANTI-ZEPPELIN BATH-CHAIR.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TO A JADED GERMAN PRESSMAN.
+
+    ["One cannot receive news of victories every day."--_German Official
+    Newspaper._]
+
+  True, as you say, there is no cause for grieving,
+    When in your pages no triumphs appear,
+  But, gentle Sir, when you talk of "receiving,"
+    Are you not wandering out of your sphere?
+  Yours not to wait for a foe's retrogression,
+    Yours not to heed the belligerents' fate;
+  You're higher up in the writer's profession;
+    Perish "receiving," 'tis yours to create.
+
+  What though you dabble in newspaper diction,
+    Common reporters deserve your disdain;
+  You should be ranked with the masters of fiction,
+    Weaving your victories out of your brain.
+  Stories are needed, and you must supply 'em;
+    That should be easy; so gifted a man
+  Surely can compass a triumph _per diem_,
+    Seeing the truth is no part of your plan.
+
+  Even although inspiration is flagging,
+    Let not your output grow markedly less;
+  Fiction gives precedents (plenty) for dragging
+    Out an old yarn in a different dress.
+  But, if your brain is too weary for spinning
+    Words to re-tell our habitual rout,
+  Don't blame the army that hasn't been winning;
+    Frankly confess that you feel written out.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "London Lady (twenties) well-educated, fair linguist, deeply
+    interested in psychology and the things that matter in life, considered
+    clever by inmates, but not brilliant, would greatly appreciate
+    broadminded and friendly companion to share walks."
+
+  _T. P.'s Weekly._
+
+We must remember that the inmates' standard would not be a very high
+one.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _First Native._ "WE'RE DOIN' FINE AT THE WAR, JARGE."
+
+_Second Native._ "YES, JAHN; AND SO BE THEY FRENCHIES."
+
+_First Native._ "AY; AN' SO BE THEY BELGIANS AN' ROOSHIANS."
+
+_Second Native._ "AY; AN' SO BE THEY ALLYS. OI DUNNO WHERE THEY COME
+FROM, JAHN, BUT THEY BE DEVILS FOR FIGHTIN'."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
+
+Why is it that novels with scamp-heroes are so much more interesting
+than the conventional kind? _Bellamy_ (METHUEN) is a case in point, for
+the central character, who gives his name to it, is about as worthless
+an object, rightly-considered, as one need wish to meet. He steals and
+lies and poses; he betrays most of his friends; and throughout a varied
+life he only really cares for one person--himself. Yet Miss ELINOR
+MORDAUNT never seems to have any difficulty in making us share
+_Bellamy's_ delight in his own conscienceless career. Perhaps it is this
+very delight that does the trick. Charlatan as he is, and worse,
+_Bellamy_ is always so attractively amused at the success of his
+impostures that it becomes impossible to avoid an answering grin. It was
+not a little courageous of Miss MORDAUNT to write a story about a hero
+from the Five Towns district; but, though this may look like trespass
+upon the preserves of a brother novelist, _Bellamy_ is Miss MORDAUNT'S
+very own. I have the feeling that she enjoyed writing about him--a
+feeling that always makes for pleasure in reading. Perhaps of all his
+manifold phases I liked best his _role_ of assistant necromancer at a
+kind of psychical beauty parlour. There is some shrewd hitting here,
+which is vastly well done. But none of the adventures of _Bellamy_
+should be skipped. I am sorry to add that the copy supplied me for
+review did not apparently credit me with this view, as it ruthlessly
+omitted some forty of what I am persuaded were most agreeable pages. The
+fact that it so far relented as to go back about ten, and repeat a
+chapter I had already read, did little to console me. I could have
+better spared part of a duller book.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A story by Mr. DION CLAYTON CALTHROP, with the title _Wonderful Woman_
+(HODDER AND STOUGHTON), may almost be regarded as a work of expert
+reference. Because what he does not know about The Sex, and has not
+already written in a galaxy of engaging romances, is hardly worth the
+bother of remembering. So that his views on the matter naturally command
+respect. _Wonderful Woman_ is perhaps less a novel than an
+analysis--painfully close, with a kind of regretful brutality in it--of
+one special type of femininity, and a glance at several others. Perhaps
+its realistic quality may astonish you a little. You may have been
+delighting in Mr. CALTHROP'S fantastic work (as I do myself) and yet
+have cherished the suspicion that his Columbines and Chelsea fairies and
+Moonbeam folk generally were the creations of a sentimentalist who would
+have little taste for handling unsympathetic things. Well, if so,
+_Philippina_ is the answer to that. Here is the most masterly
+portraiture of a woman utterly without imagination or heart or anything
+except a kind of futile and worthless attraction, that I remember to
+have met for some time. As I say, it is all rather astonishing from Mr.
+CALTHROP. The men who love _Flip_, and whose lives are ruined by her,
+are easier to understand. About _Sir Timothy Swift_, for example, there
+is a touch of the Harlequin, or rather Pierrot, that betrays his
+origin. I will not tell you the story, for one reason because its charm
+is too elusive to retrieve. I content myself by saying that it seems to
+me the best work we have yet had from Mr. CALTHROP, combining his
+special and expected graces with an unusual and moving sincerity.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A month or two ago I have no doubt that the England of CHARLES II.'S
+declining years would have seemed to me a monstrously exciting country
+to live in; at the present moment (unfairly enough) I feel more like
+congratulating the hero of Monsignor BENSON'S _Oddsfish!_ (HUTCHINSON)
+on the mildness of his adventures for the furtherance of the Catholic
+faith. It is true that _Mr. Roger Mallock_ beheld some notable
+executions after the TITUS OATES affair, and on the night of the Rye
+House Plot had a large meat chopper thrown at his head by one of the
+conspirators; but, emissary of the Vatican as he was, he was actually
+only once compelled to whip out his sword in self-defence, though on
+that occasion he had the extreme bad luck to lose his _fiancee_ through
+a misdirected dagger-thrust. Even this tragedy, sufficiently
+overwhelming in an ordinary romance, is not, of course, wholly
+disastrous in Monsignor BENSON'S eyes, since it enabled _Mr. Mallock_ to
+resume the religious life and habit for which he had been originally
+intended. For the rest the book is written in a most captivating manner,
+and with a plausibility of incident and dialogue only too rare in novels
+of the Restoration period. Evidently the author has studied his
+authorities (and more particularly Mr. PEPYS) with a praiseworthy
+diligence. But in view of the anti-Protestant bias which he naturally
+exhibits I feel bound to bid him have a care. If he intends to pursue
+his historical researches any further, and discover (let us say) virtue
+in the Spanish Inquisition and villainy in Sir FRANCIS DRAKE, I shall
+load my arquebus to the muzzle.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The hero of _King Jack_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) "made sport," as his
+creator, Mr. KEIGHLEY SNOWDEN, says, "nearly a hundred years ago" in
+Yorkshire, and incidentally he also made records. For instance, he
+cleared four-and-twenty feet at a "run-jump," and with this in my mind I
+find it satisfactory to think that he lived in another century, or I
+might find myself regretting the eclipse of the Olympic Games. As an
+upholder of law and order I ought to be (I am not) ashamed to admire a
+man who, to say the least of it, was a very prickly thorn in the side of
+the police. My excuse is that _Jack Sincler_ and his brother _Lishe_
+were kindly men withal. The game-laws were their trouble, but as far as
+I could make out they did not poach for the sake of pelf but from sheer
+love of sport. Among poachers they ought, anyhow, to be placed in Class
+I., for they loved the open air and the freshness of the morning and all
+the things that make for a clean mind in a clean body. _Jack_, though a
+shade arrogant at times, is a stimulating figure, human both in his
+weakness and his strength; and Mr. SNOWDEN deserves more than a little
+gratitude for the care with which he has reproduced the atmosphere of
+times that were conspicuously lawless and exciting.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When _Dicky Furlong_, the brilliant and aspiring artist of _The
+Achievement_ (CHAPMAN AND HALL) who was in love with _Diana Charteris_,
+sloshed her husband, _Lord Freddy_, over the head with his own decanter
+(_vide_ Chap. XXI.) he rather overdid it. For "the jagged thing fell
+with a sullen thud behind his (_Lord Freddy's_) ear," and that
+discourteous nobleman collapsed to rise no more. When the detective
+arrived the following noon he convinced himself that there was no
+necessity to detain any of the guests, even though no windows had been
+found open or doors unlocked, and though Dicky had a contused lip from
+the conflict overnight and everybody had coupled his name with
+_Diana's_. However, the methodical sleuthhound ran his quarry to earth a
+year or two later, just as he had put the finishing touches to his great
+(seventeen-foot) canvas. And _Dicky_ took a little bottle out of his
+pocket. In fact, our old friend the novelette, with its unexacting
+canons of plausibility; tacked on, as it happens, to twenty chapters of
+meandering incident, a long way after the well-known Five-Towns formula,
+garnished with pleasantly romantic little notices of _Dicky's_ pictures
+and _Dicky's_ love affairs. But you don't begin to see the _Dicky_ of
+the decanter phase (even though a fight about an ill-treated dog is
+lugged in for the purpose), or indeed any other _Dicky_ of real flesh
+and blood, in this haphazard selection of episodes and comments. The
+truth is there is more in that difficult and dangerous formula than Mr.
+TEMPLE THURSTON is aware of. He has wandered into the wrong galley. A
+pity. For _Mrs. Flint_ is a dear, if a stupid dear, and _Dicky_ himself
+has his points.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _The Old Man._ "I SEE BY THE PAPER HERE THAT THE
+ROOSHIANS ARE ATTACKING A TOWN THEY SPELL P-R-Z-E-M-Y-S-L. D'YE THINK,
+NOW, WUD THAT BE A MISTAKE OF THE PRINTER'S OR WUD THE LETTERS OF IT BE
+MIXED UP, LIKE, WI' THE BOMBARDMENT?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR DAILY BREAD.
+
+[_The London correspondent of a German paper announces that London is on
+the verge of starvation, his own diet being "reduced to bread and rancid
+dripping."_]
+
+  "There is a languor in this alien air;
+  We are reduced, in fact, to famine fare;
+  Mine, I may say, is dripping based on bread
+  (Ugh!), and I gather I shall soon be dead.
+  It is the same all over, East or West;
+  Hungry each hollow just below the chest.
+  Daily, I'm told, they rake the very dust,
+  Hoping in vain to come across a crust.
+  And, when our God-born WILHELM brings his Huns
+  Here, he will find a few odd skeletons."
+  Such is the tale a Teuton lately writ.
+  How, then, I ask, does London look so fit?
+  This is the reason, mainly, I surmise--
+  We are fed up, of course, with German Lies.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol.
+147, October 7, 1914, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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