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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28092-8.txt b/28092-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8b6df38 --- /dev/null +++ b/28092-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2119 @@ +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: ISO-8859-1 + +*** 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 Säbelschüttler 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 VOLLMÖLLER, 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 Cañon_. + + * * * + +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 _rôle_ 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 £4 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 wingéd 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 + mètres."--_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 mailéd 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 helméd colonels in our Midland valleys, + And they shall spare the tomb where SHAKSPEARE lies; + He was a German (_Deutschland über 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 ATTILÆ_." + + A glorious scene. The voice of KRUPP is dumb; + Not pining now for Frankfort or for Münich, + 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 changés 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 +_régime_) 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 _rôle_ 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 _fiancée_ 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 *** + +***** This file should be named 28092-8.txt or 28092-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/0/9/28092/ + +Produced by Neville Allen, 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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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: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br />OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>VOL. 147.</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2><span class="sc">October 7, 1914.</span></h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p>General <span class="sc">Villa</span> has now declared war on President <span class="sc">Carranza</span>. Everybody's +doing it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A regrettable mistake is reported from South London. A thoroughly +patriotic man was sat upon by a Cockney crowd for declaring that the +<span class="sc">Kaiser</span> was a Nero.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Servia, <i>The Times</i> 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.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>All German soldiers are close-cropped. To show, apparently, that they +have the courage of the conviction they deserve.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It has been suggested that the explanation of the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> may be that he +is a "throw-back." His parents were gentlefolk, but his ancestor, +<span class="sc">Frederick William I</span>., was a well-known undesirable.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It is now stated that the reason why the German troops destroyed the +historic edifices of Louvain and Rheims was the <span class="sc">Kaiser's</span> order that no +stone was to be left unturned to prove that the Germans are the apostles +of Culture.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It has been decided, after all, that <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span> may be played in +Germany; and the proposal that the name of the bard should be changed to +Wilhelm Säbelschüttler has been dropped in deference to the wishes of +the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>, who thought it might lead to confusion.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It has, we are glad to see, been denied that <span class="sc">Carpentier</span>, 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 <span class="sc">Carpentier</span> was not +yet liable for service.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<center>"GERMAN PIES SHOT."</center> +<p class="author"><i>Times.</i></p> +<p>Sound policy this. The enemy cannot fight without his commissariat.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Dr. <span class="sc">Karl Vollmöller</span>, who is chiefly notable for his spectacle "The +Miracle," has, <i>The Express</i> 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.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Publishers seem to be realising that books, to sell nowadays, must have +warlike titles. Mrs. <span class="sc">Kate Douglas Wiggin's</span> new volume is, we note, +called <i>A Summer in a Cañon</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>By the way, <i>The Price of Love</i> is announced. It is six shillings.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/289.png"> +<img src="images/289.png" width="100%" alt="This ain't my usual way o' gittin' a livin" /></a> +<p> Hawker. "<span class="sc">This ain't my usual way o' gittin' a livin', +lidy; but, owin' to the war, I</span>——"</p> +<p><i>Housekeeper</i>. "<span class="sc">That's all nonsense! Why, to my knowledge you have been +about for the past ten years</span>."</p> +<p>Hawker. "<span class="sc">You'll pardon me, lidy, but I'm referrin' to the Souf Afrikin +War</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>EPITHETS FOR ACTORS.</h2> + +<p>The dramatic critic of <i>The Daily Chronicle</i>, speaking of the first +performance of <i>Mameena</i>, observes, "Mr. Oscar Asche, jutting, +preponderant and softly corrugated, was a splendid Zulu chief."</p> + +<p>Following this distinguished example, we have endeavoured to express the +histrionic inwardness of some of our leading actors and actresses on +similar lines:—</p> + +<p>Sir <span class="sc">George Alexander</span>, dolicocephalic, fimbriated and supra-lapsarian, +interpreted the <i>rôle</i> of the archdeacon with consummate skill.</p> + +<p>Sir <span class="sc">Herbert Beerbohm Tree</span>, goliardic, tarantulated and pontostomatous, +invested the character of the great financier with a fluorescent charm.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Ainley</span>, prognathous, salicylic and partially oxydised, made a superb +lover.</p> + +<p>Miss <span class="sc">Gladys Cooper</span>, lambent, pyramidal and turturine, fully realized the +polyphonic cajoleries of <i>Seraphina</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>A Coincidence.</h4> + +<p><i>Thursday</i>.—The Kaiser distributes 30,000 iron crosses.</p> + +<p><i>Friday</i>.—Great Britain declares pig-iron contraband of war.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p>"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 £4 per ton, and the wheels of the export trade will be +immediately set in motion."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="author"><i>Daily Chronicle</i>.</p> + +<p>How fortunate that the price of lubrication fell just in time.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> + +<h2>ANOTHER "SCRAP OF PAPER."</h2> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>"The Times" of October 1st vouches for the following Army Order +issued by the German <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> 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."</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>, I do not know your whereabouts.</p> +<p class="i2">The gods elude us. When we would detect your</p> +<p class="i0">Earthly address, 'tis veiled in misty doubts</p> +<p class="i8">Of devious conjecture.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">At Nancy, in a moist trench, I am told</p> +<p class="i2">That you performed an unrehearsed lustration;</p> +<p class="i0">That there you linger, having caught a cold,</p> +<p class="i8">Followed by inflammation.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Others assert that your asbestos hut,</p> +<p class="i2">Conveyed (with you inside) to Polish regions,</p> +<p class="i0">Promises to afford a likely butt</p> +<p class="i8">To Russia's wingéd legions.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">But, whether this or that (or both) be true,</p> +<p class="i2">Or merely tales of which we have the air full,</p> +<p class="i0">In any case I say, "O <span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>, do,</p> +<p class="i8">Do, if you can, be careful!"</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">For if, by evil chance, upon your head,</p> +<p class="i2">Your precious head, some impious shell alighted,</p> +<p class="i0">I should regard my dearest hopes as dead,</p> +<p class="i8">My occupation blighted.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">I want to save you for another scene,</p> +<p class="i2">Having perused a certain Manifesto</p> +<p class="i0">That stimulates an itching, very keen,</p> +<p class="i8">In every Briton's best toe—</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">An Order issued to your Army's flower,</p> +<p class="i2">Giving instructions most precise and stringent</p> +<p class="i0">For the immediate wiping out of our</p> +<p class="i8">"Contemptible" contingent.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Well, that's a reason why I'd see you spared;</p> +<p class="i2">So take no risks, but rather heed my warning,</p> +<p class="i0">Because I have a little plan prepared</p> +<p class="i8">For Potsdam, one fine morning.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">I see you, ringed about with conquering foes—</p> +<p class="i2">See you, in penitential robe (with taper),</p> +<p class="i0">Invited to assume a bending pose</p> +<p class="i8">And eat that scrap of paper!</p> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">O. S.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>UNWRITTEN LETTERS TO THE KAISER.</h2> + +<center>No. III.</center> + +<center>(<i>From the <span class="sc">Emperor-king of Austria-Hungary</span></i>.)</center> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I am arranging for a <i>Te Deum</i> 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.</p> + +<p class="regards"> +Your devoted Brother and Friend,</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Francis Joseph</span>.</p> + +<p>P.S.—I have just heard that a large number of Russians are approaching +Vienna. No doubt they are sent to sue for peace.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>How to be Useful in War Time.</h4> + +<blockquote><p>"The usefulness of the map is increased by its giving weights in +mètres."—<i>Morning Post</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/291.png"> +<img src="images/291.png" width="100%" alt="THE INCORRIGIBLES." /></a> +<h4>THE INCORRIGIBLES.</h4> +<p><i>New Arrival at the Front.</i> "WHAT'S THE PROGRAMME?"</p> +<p><i>Old Hand.</i> "WELL, YOU LAY DOWN IN THIS WATER, AND YOU GET PEPPERED ALL +DAY AND NIGHT, AND YOU HAVE THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!"</p> +<i>New Arrival.</i> "SOUNDS LIKE A BIT OF ALL RIGHT. I'M ON IT!" +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/293.png"> +<img src="images/293.png" width="100%" alt="Very proper Cook" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>Very proper Cook</i> (<i>horrified at reports of German +atrocities</i>). "<span class="sc">Really, Mum, it seems as if the Germans are not at all +the thing</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE LAST LINE.</h2> + +<center>II.</center> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"James," I said, as soon as I had found him, "I desire your advice. +Free," I added as an afterthought.</p> + +<p>"Go on," said James, sitting up and putting the tips of his fingers +together.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>James was thoughtful for a little.</p> + +<p>"It depends," he said at last.</p> + +<p>"How depends?" I asked indignantly. "He told me to go and boil my——"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. So that it depends on who told you. If it was the Sergeant of +the Guard whom you accidentally addressed——"</p> + +<p>"Help!" I murmured, struck by a horrible fear.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>I had been thinking furiously while James was speaking.</p> + +<p>"It <i>wasn't</i> 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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>I looked at my watch.</p> + +<p>"How long does it take to convene<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> a court martial?" I asked. "I've +never convened one before."</p> + +<p>"What matter the time!" said James grandly. "The mills may grind slowly, +but they grind exceeding small."</p> + +<p>"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, +<i>he</i> will have the rifle. And if he has the rifle, I don't quite see how +we are going to shoot him."</p> + +<p>"You mean he mightn't give it up?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It would be rank insubordination, I admit, but in the +circumstances one would not be surprised at his attitude."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>We were both silent for a little.</p> + +<p>"Suppose," I said, "the death penalty were not enforced, and he were +merely given three days in cells?"</p> + +<p>"But he has to get back to his work on Monday."</p> + +<p>"True. Really, it's very hard to see how discipline <i>can</i> 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."</p> + +<p>"There's one thing you can do," said James. "You can report him to the +Sergeant of the Guard."</p> + +<p>"And what's the good of that?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>I rose with dignity.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No," said James.</p> + +<p>"In that case I will return. Good evening."</p> + +<p>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 <i>was</i> the Sergeant.</p> + +<p>I saluted. It may be wrong, as James says, but a salute or two thrown in +can't do any harm.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>We went outside together.</p> + +<p>"Awfully sorry," I said; "it was rather dark. I'm an ass."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I want one of you to help me get some straw," I said mildly.</p> + +<p>Three of them jumped up at once. "You stay here," they said, "<i>we</i>'ll +get it."</p> + +<p>So there you are; there's nothing wrong with the discipline. At the same +time if it <i>were</i> necessary to shoot anybody, I am not quite sure how we +should proceed.</p> + +<p class="author">A. A. M.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A POSSIBLE SOURCE.</h2> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> +<p class="regards">I am, Sir, Yours gratefully,</p> +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Over Age</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>The Censor at Work.</h4> + +<p>Beneath a photograph of a naval officer <i>The Daily Mirror</i> says:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"A daring raid has just been made by Commander Samson ... The small +picture shows the commander."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Beneath the same photograph <i>The Daily Mail</i> says:—</p> +<blockquote><p>"A famous British naval airman (nameless by order of the Censor)."</p></blockquote> + +<p>But the order of the Censor came too late. <i>The Mirror</i> had given the +great secret away to the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>, and the whole course of the war was +altered.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/294.png"> +<img src="images/294.png" width="100%" alt="What's the good of coming here" /></a> +<p><i>Recruiting Officer.</i> "<span class="sc">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</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/295.png"> +<img src="images/295.png" width="100%" alt="I 'opes yer mistress'll 'scuse me bein' so late" /></a> +<p>"<span class="sc">I 'opes yer mistress'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.</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE SAVING OF STRATFORD.</h2> + +<p>[<i>It has been decided, we gather, to go on playing <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span> in Berlin, +because <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span> is so closely connected with the German race.</i>]</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">This was so good of you, so like your grace,</p> +<p class="i2">Ye on whose brows the brand of Rheims is graven,</p> +<p class="i0">To spare the poet of our common race</p> +<p class="i2">And find forgiveness for the Bard of Avon;</p> +<p class="i0">And all the little lore he feebly guessed,</p> +<p class="i2">Phantasy, rhetoric, and trope and sermon,</p> +<p class="i0">To clasp politely to your mailéd breast,</p> +<p class="i2">Refine, transmute and render wholly German.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Seeing in <i>Henry V.</i> a Prussian King,</p> +<p class="i2">Tracing in <i>Hamlet</i> a more moody <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>,</p> +<p class="i0">You put new might into the master's wing,</p> +<p class="i2">He seems more wonderful to us, and wiser;</p> +<p class="i0">Not as he dimly sang in ages gone</p> +<p class="i2">He warbles to us now, but wild with culture,</p> +<p class="i0">Exchanging for the mere parochial Swan</p> +<p class="i2">The full-mouthed war notes of the Potsdam Vulture.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">So shall he live, and live eternally</p> +<p class="i2">(In humble homage to the War Lord's mitten)</p> +<p class="i0">"This precious stone set in the silver sea,"</p> +<p class="i2">Heligoland, of course, and not Great Britain:</p> +<p class="i0">A thousand carven saints are lain in dust</p> +<p class="i2">In lands the Prussian Junker sets his boot on,</p> +<p class="i0">But <span class="sc">Wilhelm Shakspeare</span> and his honoured bust</p> +<p class="i2">Shall save themselves by being partly Teuton.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">And when the hooves of those imperial swine</p> +<p class="i2">Leap, as of course they will, the ocean's borders,</p> +<p class="i0">And England's trampled down from Thames to Tyne,</p> +<p class="i2">And Wells is burnt, and Winchester, by orders,</p> +<p class="i0">It may be tears shall start into the eyes</p> +<p class="i2">Of helméd colonels in our Midland valleys,</p> +<p class="i0">And they shall spare the tomb where <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span> lies;</p> +<p class="i2">He was a German (<i>Deutschland über alles</i>).</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Almost I seem to see the Uhlans stand,</p> +<p class="i2">Paying their pious sixpences to enter</p> +<p class="i0">That little homestead of the Fatherland</p> +<p class="i2">That housed the dramatist in Stratford's centre;</p> +<p class="i0">A trifle flushed, maybe, with English beer,</p> +<p class="i2">But mutely reverent and not talking chattily,</p> +<p class="i0">They write beneath their names: "A friend lives here;</p> +<p class="i2">Not to be ransacked. Signed, <i>The Modern <span class="sc">Attilæ</span></i>."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">A glorious scene. The voice of <span class="sc">Krupp</span> is dumb;</p> +<p class="i2">Not pining now for Frankfort or for Münich,</p> +<p class="i0">The sub-lieutenant slides with quivering thumb</p> +<p class="i2">A picture-postcard underneath his tunic.</p> +<p class="i0">Till then, if any dawn of doubt creeps in</p> +<p class="i2">How best to judge the Bard and praise him rightly,</p> +<p class="i0">Let me implore the actors of Berlin</p> +<p class="i2">To play <i>Macbeth</i> to crowded houses nightly.</p> +</div></div> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Evoe.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> + +<h2>THE INTERPRETERS.</h2> + +<p>"May I go into the village to get my hair cut?" asked Sinclair of my +wife. "I'll promise to be back for tea."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"We might have thought of that," said the Reverend Henry. "Still, I +daresay they'll manage all right."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Right-o!" said Sinclair. "We'll have a shot to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>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 +<span class="sc">Roberts</span>) 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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——"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It is impossible to say who was to blame. But it is clear that the +instructions (as the Frenchman said of <span class="sc">Brahms'</span> Variations) had been +<i>diablement changés en route</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>INDIA: 1784-1914.</h2> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i">The job was for us, grin and bear;</p> +<p class="i2">We'd lit on India's dust an' drought;</p> +<p class="i0">We knew as we were planted there,</p> +<p class="i2">But scarcely how it came about;</p> +<p class="i0">And so, in rough and tumble style,</p> +<p class="i2">And nothing much to make a shout,</p> +<p class="i0">We set our backs to graft a while,</p> +<p class="i2">And meant to stay and stick it out.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Ten hundred risky, frisky Kings,</p> +<p class="i2">And on the whole a decent lot;</p> +<p class="i0">And several hundred million things</p> +<p class="i2">That trusted us with all they'd got;</p> +<p class="i0">And so we blundered at it straight,</p> +<p class="i2">And found the times was pretty hot;</p> +<p class="i0">And so they smiled and called it Fate,</p> +<p class="i2">And Fate it was, as like as not.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Our law was one for great and small—</p> +<p class="i2">We heard 'em honest, claim for claim;</p> +<p class="i0">We smooth'd their squabbles for 'em all,</p> +<p class="i2">And let 'em pray by any name;</p> +<p class="i0">And so we left enough alone,</p> +<p class="i2">But learnt 'em plenty all the same;</p> +<p class="i0">We show'd 'em what they should be shown,</p> +<p class="i2">And tried to play the decent game.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">For all our work we've not got much?</p> +<p class="i2">P'r'aps not: but now there's come a scrap</p> +<p class="i0">That's got us good with lies and such,</p> +<p class="i2">And gave 'em just the chance to snap;</p> +<p class="i0">And fools had thought they likely would</p> +<p class="i2">(That's German-made and rattle-trap);</p> +<p class="i0">They'd shout—the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> said they should—</p> +<p class="i2">And, happen, wipe us off the map.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">From snow to sand that shout has burst,</p> +<p class="i2">And German lies are well belied;</p> +<p class="i0">And flood calls field for who'll be first—</p> +<p class="i2">They're proud to share the Empire-pride.</p> +<p class="i0">It's them for Britain at the test;</p> +<p class="i2">We knew they'd never stand aside;</p> +<p class="i0">For when we tried and did our best</p> +<p class="i2">The beggars must have known we tried.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>The German Campaign of Lies.</h4> + +<center>From a book of reference:—<br /><br /> + +"'Berlin Work.' See 'Embroidery.'"</center><br /> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>News of a serious character reaches us from <i>The Toronto Daily Mail</i>, +which announces in its index of contents:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Austrian Fleet Bombards Montenegro's Only Teapot."</p> +<p>Another one of true Britannia metal is being sent to our gallant ally.</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> + +<table summary="cartoon"> + +<tr> +<td><img width="400" border="0" alt="Farver finks" src="images/297a.png" /> +<p><span class="sc">Farver finks he's got a German spy.<br /> 'E's sittin' on 'is +'ead. <br />'E'll need 'elp—muvver's out!</span></p> +</td> + +<td><img width="400" border="0" alt="That's the chap" src="images/297b.png" /><br /><br /><br /> +<p>"<span class="sc">That's the chap—'im wivout a collar!</span>"</p> +</td></tr> + +<tr> +<td><img width="400" border="0" alt="No!—not 'im—that's farver" src="images/297c.png" /> +<p>"<span class="sc">No!—not 'im—that's farver!</span>"</p> +</td> + +<td><img width="400" border="0" alt="you've mixed 'em up now." src="images/297d.png" /> +<p>"<span class="sc">Oh, lumme! you've mixed 'em up now. <br />I dunno which is +which.</span>"</p></td></tr> + +</table> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/298.png"> +<img src="images/298.png" width="100%" alt="Unreported casualty to the football" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><span class="sc">Unreported casualty to the football of the 85th Infantry +Regiment of the enemy.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>HOW TO BRIGHTEN WARFARE.</h2> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>moral</i> throughout the campaign. The tents of commanding +officers of notoriously choleric nature should be the objects of +persistent attention in this way.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The Prime Minister of New Zealand as reported in <i>The Timaru Herald</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"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."</p></blockquote> + +<p>This is one of the things we could have summed up more lucidly +ourselves, though perhaps not so concisely.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Will the Soldiers who saw Lady Thrown off Tramcar on Saturday +evening, about 8 o'clock, please communicate."</p> +<p><i>Advt. in "Northampton Daily Chronicle."</i></p></blockquote> +<p>Another lovers' tiff in the gloaming?</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/299.png"> +<img src="images/299.png" width="100%" alt="THE ROAD TO RUSSIA." /></a> +<h4>THE ROAD TO RUSSIA.</h4> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/301.png"> +<img src="images/301.png" width="100%" alt="Cyclist taking initiative on being +caught without a light" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>Cyclist</i> (<i>taking initiative on being +caught without a light</i>). "<span class="sc">Douse your glim, mate; we'll be having them +Zeppelins all over us.</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>BURGOMASTER MAX.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="sc">Belgian</span> soldiers, martial heroes, in a world of fire and flame,</p> +<p class="i0">By their fortitude and daring have achieved immortal fame,</p> +<p class="i0">But there's one, a mere civilian, who a <i>vates sacer</i> lacks—</p> +<p class="i10">Burgomaster <span class="sc">Max</span>!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Therefore let a sorry rhymer offer you his humble meed,</p> +<p class="i0">And salute your priceless service to your country in her need,</p> +<p class="i0">All unarmed yet undefeated, never turning in your tracks—</p> +<p class="i10">Burgomaster <span class="sc">Max</span>!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><i>Athanasius contra mundum</i>—you remind us of the tag,</p> +<p class="i0">You whose fearless manifestoes never brooked the German gag;</p> +<p class="i0">Bucking up your fellow-townsmen when their hearts were weak as wax—</p> +<p class="i10">Burgomaster <span class="sc">Max</span>!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Now, alas! we read the foemen have decided to deport</p> +<p class="i0">And intern you for a season in some dismal German fort,</p> +<p class="i0">For your presence was distasteful to the Hun who sacks and "hacks"—</p> +<p class="i10">Burgomaster <span class="sc">Max</span>!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Yet, whatever fate befalls you, as the ages onward roll</p> +<p class="i0">You will live in deathless lustre on your country's Golden Roll,</p> +<p class="i0">For you faced the German bullies with the stiffest of stiff backs—</p> +<p class="i10">Burgomaster <span class="sc">Max</span>!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /><br /> + +<center>There are German financiers who now allude to him as "Dishonoured <span class="sc">Bill</span>."</center><br /> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A SEA CHANGE.</h2> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Ponto in town is strictly <i>comme il faut</i>,</p> +<p class="i2">A member of the most exclusive set</p> +<p class="i0">(His pedigree and dwelling all may know</p> +<p class="i2">Who read page 90 in the "Dogs' Debrett").</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">His mien is dignified, his gait is slow;</p> +<p class="i2">If upstart strangers try to catch his eye</p> +<p class="i0">He kicks the dust behind with scornful toe,</p> +<p class="i2">Averts his lifted nose and passes by.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">His friends he greets with careful etiquette,</p> +<p class="i2">Permits his well-poised tail-tip to vibrate,</p> +<p class="i0">Then treads with them the solemn minuet</p> +<p class="i2">That antique custom and good form dictate.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">But Ponto by the sea! ah, who would know</p> +<p class="i2">This damp wild ragamuffin on the strand</p> +<p class="i0">Who importunes the passers-by to throw</p> +<p class="i2">Big stones across the opal-shining sand?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Ponto dishevelled, ears turned inside out,</p> +<p class="i2">Has suffered some sea change; his social worth</p> +<p class="i0">Is all forgot; he leads a Comus rout,</p> +<p class="i2">Tykes of the shore and curs of lowly birth.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Yelping with joy he brings his wolfish pack</p> +<p class="i2">About my legs, as, dripping from the sea,</p> +<p class="i0">I pick my way thro' shingle and wet wrack</p> +<p class="i2">Beleaguered by this bandit company.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">But when the day comes round to leave the shore</p> +<p class="i2">Ponto puts off this maniac <i>Mr. Hyde</i>;</p> +<p class="i0">Becomes a <i>Dr. Jekyll</i> dog once more</p> +<p class="i2">And homeward goes serene and dignified.</p> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p><hr /> + +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> + +<center><span class="sc">"MAMEENA."</span></center> + +<p>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 <i>claque</i>) 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.</p> + +<p>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 +<i>régime</i>) 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 <i>capables de +tout</i>. But any comparison, whether in point of costume or royal bearing, +between <i>King Mpande</i> and the <span class="sc">German Kaiser</span> must have been in favour of +the latter. On the other hand, his son <i>Umbuyazi</i> was a far nobler +figure than my conception of the <span class="sc">Crown Prince</span>.</p> + +<p>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 <i>Mameena's</i> 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, +<i>Allan Quatermain</i>—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 <i>Quatermain's</i> +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 <i>Mameena</i>: "I shall +never love another man as I love you, however many I marry."</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Oscar Asche</span>, who dramatised Sir <span class="sc">Rider Haggard's</span> <i>Child of Storm</i>, +did not aim at subtlety. But a rather nice question arose over the rival +immoralities of <i>Mameena's</i> second and third husbands. <i>Prince Umbuyazi</i> +(No. 3) had expressed regret to his old friend and comrade, <i>Saduka</i> +(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 +<i>Umbuyazi</i> and his brother <i>Cetshwayo</i> the wronged husband went over +with his impis to the camp of the enemy. <i>Umbuyazi</i> 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.</p> + +<p>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 <span class="sc">Charlie Brookfield</span> used to say: "He read his +play to the company, and it took three solid hours, <i>and even so he +didn't put in any of the 'h's.'</i>"</p> + +<p class="author">O. S</p> + +<hr /> +<h2>SOME OF THE GREATEST FIGURES OF ALL AGES.</h2> +<center><i>Recently discovered, by German research, to have been of Teutonic +birth.</i></center> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%"> +<a href="images/302.png"> +<img src="images/302.png" width="100%" alt="SOME OF THE GREATEST FIGURES OF ALL AGES" /></a> +</div> + +<div class="sc"> +<table width="100%" summary="titles"> +<tr><td align="center"> Julius</td> +<td align="center"> General</td><td align="center">Johanna</td><td align="center">Wilhelm</td> +<td align="center">Franz</td><td align="center">Dr.</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"> Kaiser.</td> +<td align="center"> Hercules.</td> +<td align="center"> Von Arkstein.</td><td align="center"> Schakespear.</td><td align="center">Drakenberg.</td><td align="center">Johannssohn.</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"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."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="author"><i>Daily Graphic.</i></p> + +<p>The fact that 80 per cent. of Austrian cartridges refuse to explode may +account for the Austrian "victories."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p>"Whelan replied: 'Yes, I sold the beef.' The military authorities +pressed the case."</p> + +<p class="author"><i>Liverpool Echo.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>A case of pressed beef, we presume.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/303.png"> +<img src="images/303.png" width="100%" alt="Doctor (at Ambulance Class)." /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>Doctor (at Ambulance Class).</i> "<span class="sc">My dear lady, do you +realise that this lad's ankle was supposed to be <i>broken</i> before you +bandaged it?</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE WAR IN ACACIA AVENUE.</h2> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then we knew that it was war to the death in our Avenue and waited for +the next move in the campaign.</p> + +<p>"The Hollies" broke out into Red Cross notices; "Dulce Domum" announced +itself to be the office for the organisation of local relief.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The very next day seven Allied flags (including a pseudo-Montenegrin) +flew over "The Hollies." Mrs. Studholm-Brown had added Japan before the +<span class="sc">Mikado's</span> 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <span class="sc">Crown Prince</span> be allowed to take up his abode on +<i>parole</i>, in some quiet suburban home, I am sure "The Hollies" will snap +him up. And if "The Hollies" secures the <span class="sc">Crown Prince</span> no power in this +world can prevent Mrs. Dawburn-Jones from securing the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> + +<h2>THE HELPMEET.</h2> + +<p>"May I come in?" said Cecily, knocking at my study door.</p> + +<p>"If you insist," said I.</p> + +<p>"I only want to use the telephone," she explained, as if that made it +any better.</p> + +<p>"You couldn't take it away and use it somewhere else?" I asked.</p> + +<p>She was unmoved. "It needn't disturb you," she said. "I'll be as quiet +as a mouse."</p> + +<p>"Won't that be rather dull for the people at the other end of the +line?" I ventured.</p> + +<p>"Now, you go on with your writing," she said severely. So I went on.</p> + +<p><i>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.</i></p> + +<center><i><span class="sc">Chapter LVII.</span></i></center> + +<p><i>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.</i></p> + +<p>"There's something I want to ask you," said Cecily.</p> + +<p>"Ask away," I said brusquely.</p> + +<p>"Not <i>you</i>," said Cecily, frowning at me and then smiling at the +receiver.</p> + +<p><i>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.</i></p> + +<p>"How are you getting on?" I asked Cecily a little peevishly.</p> + +<p>"Nicely, thanks," she answered. "And you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nicely, too," said I, with a sigh.</p> + +<p><i>As for <del>Whatshername</del> 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. <del>After all, love wasn't</del> <del>Maybe love was</del> 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 +<del>Exchange</del> Providence? The more thought she gave to the matter the further +she seemed to be from a definite conclusion. <del>At times it seemed as if</del> <del>At +one time it appeared as though</del> <del>At one time</del> <del>At times</del> <del>At 2284 Mayfair</del> +<del>Mayfair 2248</del> <del>2248 Mayfair</del> <del>Twice two is four, twice four is eight.</del></i></p> + +<p>"Are you coming to the end of your friends?" I asked Cecily.</p> + +<p>"If I'm not wanted I'll go," said she snappily.</p> + +<p>"You're always wanted, of course," I apologised.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll stay," said she brightly.</p> + +<center><i><span class="sc">Chapter LVIII.</span></i></center> + +<p><i>As Herbert turned his back on Kensington and walked towards <del>Gerrard</del> +Piccadilly, he would, had he looked behind him, have seen a malevolent, +sinister man emerge from the shadow and follow him stealthily. <del>But +Herbert did not look behind him.</del> <del>And why not?</del> <del>It is impossible to say.</del> +<del>Suffice it that he didn't.</del> Nay, that is exactly what Herbert did see +when he looked behind him. "My God," said he, turning pale....</i></p> + +<p>"Can we dine with the Monroes on Tuesday?" asked Cecily.</p> + +<p>"That depends a good deal on whether they invite us," I answered.</p> + +<p>"It's only Jack trying to be funny," Cecily told the receiver.</p> + +<p><i>"As I was saying," continued Herbert, "it's James MacClure."</i></p> + +<p><i>"No less," said the other, with a fiendish smile.</i></p> + +<p><i>It is necessary to go back a little in order <del>to property</del> 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.</i></p> + +<p><i><del>Many years ago McClure had</del> <del>James was the son of rich but</del> <del>Jas, as his +college friends used to call</del> <del>McClure</del> <del>James</del> Producing a revolver from his +hip pocket, Herbert shot James McClure through the heart.</i></p> + +<p>Cecily flapped about with the Directory.</p> + +<p>"Trying to find a number that you haven't used already?" I enquired.</p> + +<center><i><del><span class="sc">Chapter LIX.</span></del></i></center> + +<p><i><del>Ermyntrude</del></i></p> + +<center><i><del><span class="sc">Chapter LIX.</span></del></i></center> + +<p><i><del><span class="sc">Ermyntrude</span></del></i></p> + +<center><i><del><span class="sc">Chapter LIX.</span></del></i></center> + +<p><i><del><span class="sc">Minnie</span></del></i></p> + +<center><i><span class="sc">Chapter LIX.</span></i></center> + +<p><i>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 <span class="sc">Vergil</span> that he couldn't do any better than "Varium et +mutabile semper." If <span class="sc">Vergil</span> 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."</i></p> + +<p><i>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.</i></p> + +<p>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</p> + +<center><i><span class="sc">Chapter LIX.</span></i></center> + +<p><i>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.</i></p> + +<p><i>"We will never again think of all that came between us," he murmured.</i></p> + +<p><i>She smiled up at him.</i></p> + +<p><i>"It shall be as nothing," he added.</i></p> + +<p><i>"It shall," said she.</i></p> + +<p>"It shall indeed," say I.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>MOON-PENNIES.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>(<i>Children in the Midlands give this name to the disc shaped fruit +of Honesty.</i>)</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">My garden is a beggar's pitch</p> +<p class="i2">That Heaven throws its coins upon;</p> +<p class="i0">And in the Summer I am rich,</p> +<p class="i2">And in the Winter all is gone;</p> +<p class="i0">Yet as the long days hurry by</p> +<p class="i2">I keep my pitch, content and free,</p> +<p class="i0">Where in a sweet profusion lie</p> +<p class="i2">Fair Marigolds and Honesty;</p> +<p class="i0">And oft I turn and count for fun</p> +<p class="i2">My largess from the night and noon—</p> +<p class="i0">The golden tokens of the sun,</p> +<p class="i2">The silver pennies of the moon!</p> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p><hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/305.png"> +<img src="images/305.png" width="100%" alt="I'm sorry to 'ave to say, Mum," /></a> +<p><span class="sc">"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."</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>CANNON FODDER.</h2> + +<center>(<i>Thus the War Party designates the rank and file of the German army.</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">They are coming like a tempest, in their endless ranks of grey,</p> +<p class="i0">While the world throws up a cloud of dust along their awful way;</p> +<p class="i0">They're the glorious cannon fodder of the mighty Fatherland,</p> +<p class="i0">Who shall make the kingdoms tremble and the nations understand.</p> +<p class="i4">Tramp! tramp! tramp! the cannon fodder comes.</p> +<p class="i4">God help the old; God help the young; God help the hearths and homes.</p> +<p class="i4">They'll do his will that taught them, on the earth and on the waves,</p> +<p class="i4">Then, like faithful cannon fodder, still salute him from their graves.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">From the barrack and the fortress they are pouring in a flood;</p> +<p class="i0">They sweep, a herd of winter wolves, upon the scent of blood;</p> +<p class="i0">For all their deeds of horror they are told that death atones</p> +<p class="i0">And their master's harvest cannot spring till he has sowed their bones.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Into beasts of prey he's turned them; when they show their teeth and growl</p> +<p class="i0">The lash is buried in their cheeks; they're slaughtered if they howl;</p> +<p class="i0">To their bloody Lord of Battles must they only bend the knee,</p> +<p class="i0">For hard as steel and fierce as hell should cannon fodder be.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Scourge and curses are their portion, pain and hunger without end,</p> +<p class="i0">Till they hail the yell of shrapnel as the welcome of a friend;</p> +<p class="i0">They rape and burn and laugh to hear the frantic women cry</p> +<p class="i0">And do the devil's work to-day, but on the morrow die.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">A million souls, a million hearts, a million hopes and fears,</p> +<p class="i0">A million million memories of partings and of tears</p> +<p class="i0">March along with cannon fodder to the agony of war.</p> +<p class="i0">Have they lost their human birthright? Are they fellow-men no more?</p> +<p class="i4">Tramp! tramp! tramp! the cannon fodder comes.</p> +<p class="i4">God help the old; God help the young; God help the hearths and homes.</p> +<p class="i4">They'll do his will that taught them, on the earth and on the waves,</p> +<p class="i4">Then, like faithful cannon fodder, still salute him from their graves.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>The War and Physical Development.</h4> + +<blockquote>"Here some words have been exercised by the Censor."</blockquote> + +<p class="author"><i>Manchester Evening News.</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p>"Kiel is very delightful in its own way, but it misses <i>in toto</i> the +charm and originality of Cowes."</p></blockquote> + +<p>So said <i>The Tatler</i> 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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> + +<h2>A NUT'S VIEWS ON THE WAR.</h2> + +<center><span class="sc">Interesting Chat With Mr. Reginald FitzJenkins.</span></center> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"My paper," I said, "would like to have your views on the War."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>I expressed my horror by a suitable gesture.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"You haven't volunteered to fight, then?" I said.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Mr. FitzJenkins laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"And are you doing anything to help in the crisis?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I trust, Mr. FitzJenkins," I said, "that you are not opposed to the +War."</p> + +<p>"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 <span class="sc">King</span> and <span class="sc">Kitchener</span> will pull it off +all right."</p> + +<p>"May I publish that? I think it would encourage them."</p> + +<p>"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 <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>.... 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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Atrocious! Infamous! I shall write to the papers about it," he said. +"How dare he leave me helpless like this? Off to enlist, indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Who?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"My man," said Mr. FitzJenkins.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/306.png"> +<img src="images/306.png" width="100%" alt="ENTERPRISE ON OUR EAST COAST." /></a> +<h4>ENTERPRISE ON OUR EAST COAST.</h4> +<center><span class="sc">The Anti-Zeppelin bath-chair.</span></center> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>TO A JADED GERMAN PRESSMAN.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>["One cannot receive news of victories every day."—<i>German Official +Newspaper.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">True, as you say, there is no cause for grieving,</p> +<p class="i2">When in your pages no triumphs appear,</p> +<p class="i0">But, gentle Sir, when you talk of "receiving,"</p> +<p class="i2">Are you not wandering out of your sphere?</p> +<p class="i0">Yours not to wait for a foe's retrogression,</p> +<p class="i2">Yours not to heed the belligerents' fate;</p> +<p class="i0">You're higher up in the writer's profession;</p> +<p class="i2">Perish "receiving," 'tis yours to create.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">What though you dabble in newspaper diction,</p> +<p class="i2">Common reporters deserve your disdain;</p> +<p class="i0">You should be ranked with the masters of fiction,</p> +<p class="i2">Weaving your victories out of your brain.</p> +<p class="i0">Stories are needed, and you must supply 'em;</p> +<p class="i2">That should be easy; so gifted a man</p> +<p class="i0">Surely can compass a triumph <i>per diem</i>,</p> +<p class="i2">Seeing the truth is no part of your plan.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Even although inspiration is flagging,</p> +<p class="i2">Let not your output grow markedly less;</p> +<p class="i0">Fiction gives precedents (plenty) for dragging</p> +<p class="i2">Out an old yarn in a different dress.</p> +<p class="i0">But, if your brain is too weary for spinning</p> +<p class="i2">Words to re-tell our habitual rout,</p> +<p class="i0">Don't blame the army that hasn't been winning;</p> +<p class="i2">Frankly confess that you feel written out.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"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."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="author"><i>T. P.'s Weekly.</i></p> + +<p>We must remember that the inmates' standard would not be a very high +one.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/307.png"> +<img src="images/307.png" width="100%" alt="We're doin' fine at the war, Jarge." /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>First Native.</i> "<span class="sc">We're doin' fine at the war, Jarge.</span>"</p> +<p><i>Second Native.</i> "<span class="sc">Yes, Jahn; and so be they Frenchies.</span>"</p> +<p><i>First Native.</i> "<span class="sc">Ay; an' so be they Belgians an' Rooshians.</span>"</p> +<p><i>Second Native.</i> "<span class="sc">Ay; an' so be they Allys. Oi dunno where they come +from, Jahn, but they be devils for fightin'.</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<center>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</center> + +<p>Why is it that novels with scamp-heroes are so much more interesting +than the conventional kind? <i>Bellamy</i> (<span class="sc">Methuen</span>) 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 <span class="sc">Elinor +Mordaunt</span> never seems to have any difficulty in making us share +<i>Bellamy's</i> delight in his own conscienceless career. Perhaps it is this +very delight that does the trick. Charlatan as he is, and worse, +<i>Bellamy</i> 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 <span class="sc">Mordaunt</span> 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, <i>Bellamy</i> is Miss <span class="sc">Mordaunt's</span> +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 <i>rôle</i> 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 <i>Bellamy</i> +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.</p> + +<hr class ="short" /> + +<p>A story by Mr. <span class="sc">Dion Clayton Calthrop</span>, with the title <i>Wonderful Woman</i> +(<span class="sc">Hodder and Stoughton</span>), 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. <i>Wonderful Woman</i> 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. <span class="sc">Calthrop's</span> 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, +<i>Philippina</i> 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. +<span class="sc">Calthrop</span>. The men who love <i>Flip</i>, and whose lives are ruined by her, +are easier to understand. About <i>Sir Timothy Swift</i>, for example, there +is a touch of the Harlequin, or rather Pierrot, that betrays his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +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. <span class="sc">Calthrop</span>, combining his +special and expected graces with an unusual and moving sincerity.</p> + +<hr class ="short" /> + +<p>A month or two ago I have no doubt that the England of <span class="sc">Charles II.'s</span> +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 <span class="sc">Benson's</span> <i>Oddsfish!</i> (<span class="sc">Hutchinson</span>) +on the mildness of his adventures for the furtherance of the Catholic +faith. It is true that <i>Mr. Roger Mallock</i> beheld some notable +executions after the <span class="sc">Titus Oates</span> 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 <i>fiancée</i> through +a misdirected dagger-thrust. Even this tragedy, sufficiently +overwhelming in an ordinary romance, is not, of course, wholly +disastrous in Monsignor <span class="sc">Benson's</span> eyes, since it enabled <i>Mr. Mallock</i> 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. <span class="sc">Pepys</span>) 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 <span class="sc">Francis Drake</span>, I shall +load my arquebus to the muzzle.</p> + +<hr class ="short" /> + +<p>The hero of <i>King Jack</i> (<span class="sc">Hodder and Stoughton</span>) "made sport," as his +creator, Mr. <span class="sc">Keighley Snowden</span>, 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 <i>Jack Sincler</i> and his brother <i>Lishe</i> +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. <i>Jack</i>, though a +shade arrogant at times, is a stimulating figure, human both in his +weakness and his strength; and Mr. <span class="sc">Snowden</span> deserves more than a little +gratitude for the care with which he has reproduced the atmosphere of +times that were conspicuously lawless and exciting.</p> + +<hr class ="short" /> + +<p>When <i>Dicky Furlong</i>, the brilliant and aspiring artist of <i>The +Achievement</i> (<span class="sc">Chapman and Hall</span>) who was in love with <i>Diana Charteris</i>, +sloshed her husband, <i>Lord Freddy</i>, over the head with his own decanter +(<i>vide</i> Chap. XXI.) he rather overdid it. For "the jagged thing fell +with a sullen thud behind his (<i>Lord Freddy's</i>) 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 +<i>Diana's</i>. 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 <i>Dicky</i> 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 <i>Dicky's</i> pictures +and <i>Dicky's</i> love affairs. But you don't begin to see the <i>Dicky</i> of +the decanter phase (even though a fight about an ill-treated dog is +lugged in for the purpose), or indeed any other <i>Dicky</i> 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. +<span class="sc">Temple Thurston</span> is aware of. He has wandered into the wrong galley. A +pity. For <i>Mrs. Flint</i> is a dear, if a stupid dear, and <i>Dicky</i> himself +has his points.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/308.png"> +<img src="images/308.png" width="100%" alt="The Old Man." /></a> +<p><i>The Old Man.</i>"<span class="sc">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?</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR DAILY BREAD.</h2> + +<blockquote>[<i>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."</i>]</blockquote> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"There is a languor in this alien air;</p> +<p class="i0">We are reduced, in fact, to famine fare;</p> +<p class="i0">Mine, I may say, is dripping based on bread</p> +<p class="i0">(Ugh!), and I gather I shall soon be dead.</p> +<p class="i0">It is the same all over, East or West;</p> +<p class="i0">Hungry each hollow just below the chest.</p> +<p class="i0">Daily, I'm told, they rake the very dust,</p> +<p class="i0">Hoping in vain to come across a crust.</p> +<p class="i0">And, when our God-born <span class="sc">Wilhelm</span> brings his Huns</p> +<p class="i0">Here, he will find a few odd skeletons."</p> +<p class="i0">Such is the tale a Teuton lately writ.</p> +<p class="i0">How, then, I ask, does London look so fit?</p> +<p class="i0">This is the reason, mainly, I surmise—</p> +<p class="i0">We are fed up, of course, with German Lies.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +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 *** + +***** This file should be named 28092-h.htm or 28092-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/0/9/28092/ + +Produced by Neville Allen, 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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b/28092-page-images/p0308.png diff --git a/28092.txt b/28092.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e50311a --- /dev/null +++ b/28092.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2119 @@ +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 *** + +***** This file should be named 28092.txt or 28092.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/0/9/28092/ + +Produced by Neville Allen, 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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