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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/28470-8.txt b/28470-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b31c953 --- /dev/null +++ b/28470-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2222 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, +November 4, 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, November 4, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: April 1, 2009 [EBook #28470] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, NOV 4, 1914 *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Neville Allen, +Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + PUNCH, + + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + + VOL. 147. + + NOVEMBER 4, 1914. + + +CHARIVARIA. + +The _Fremdenblatt_ of Hamburg congratulates itself that "the British +campaign of pin-pricks is fast coming to a miserable end." If the +reference is to bayonets, our contemporary is in error. + + * * * + +A Berlin news agency states that General LEMAN, of Liége, is actually a +German. It is characteristic of the Germans to bring an accusation like +that against a brave and innocent man in adversity. + + * * * + +The _Kölnische Volkszeitung_ records the foundation of a "German Truth +Society." We are glad that it is realised over there at last that there +is a difference between Truth and German Truth. + + * * * + +It is semi-officially announced that the KAISER'S headquarters are now +in France. His hindquarters were recently seen in Russia. + + * * * + +A detachment of British cavalry, while playing water polo in the Oise, +suddenly spotted a patrol of German Uhlans, jumped on their horses +naked, and in that state charged the enemy. We understand that a protest +has been lodged at the War Office by the British Propriety League. + + * * * + +A motor wireless section in Scotland is searching for a mascot and +regimental pet, and a Glasgow newspaper invites its readers to supply a +suitable animal. What would be wrong with a wireless terrier? + + * * * + +Shortly before the outbreak of the war, it is said, the KAISER ordered a +Gloucester spotted pig in this country. Later on the shipment of the pig +was countermanded. Presumably sufficient pigs had already been spotted +in the German army. + + * * * + +A pretty tribute to our ability to keep our hair on in a crisis was paid +last week at the Bow County Court by an itinerant vendor of a hair +restorer. He informed the Court that since the war there had been no +demand for his goods. + + * * * + +A correspondent writes to _The Times_ to object to the nickname +"Tommies" applied to our soldiers. "Thomases" would undoubtedly be more +respectful and dignified. + + * * * + +An original production of _Everyman_ is to be given at the Cathedral +Hall, Westminster, on the 12th, 13th and 14th instant, in aid of the +Actors' Benevolent Fund. We trust that Everyman will do his duty and +bring in a large sum for this admirable object. + + * * * + +The French authorities have seized ten race-horses stabled at St. +Symphorien, near Tours, which belonged to M. MUMM, of the famous +champagne firm, who is a German subject. Motto for those Germans who +were captured speechless in the neighbourhood of Rheims:--"Mumm's the +word!" + + * * * + +We note that there is a strong cast in _The Glad Eye_ which has made its +appearance again. + + * * * + +Which reminds us that they are calling a certain cheery correspondent on +our Generalissimo's Staff "The Glad Eye Witness." + + * * * + +The latest news from South Africa would seem to show that Beyers are +sometimes sold. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: "NOT BIG ENOUGH! D'YER KNOW 'OO I AM? D'YER KNOW FOIVE +YEAR AGO I WAS CHAMPION LIGHT-WEIGHT OF WAPPING?" + +"I'VE NO DOUBT YOU'RE A GOOD MAN; BUT, YOU SEE, YOU DON'T COME UP TO THE +REQUIRED MEASUREMENTS, SO I'M AFRAID THAT'S THE END OF IT." + +"OH, ALL RIGHT, THEN. ONLY, MIND YER, IF YER GO AN' LOSE THIS 'ERE +WAR--WELL, DON'T BLAME _ME_--THAT'S ALL!" + + * * * * * + +THE FLASH-LIGHT THAT FAILED. + +(_Lines suggested by a recent incident on the Firth of Forth._) + + There was a young alien in Fife + Who on spying was keen as a knife, + Till a sentry--good egg!-- + Plugged him bang through the leg + And ruined his prospects for life. + + * * * * * + + "Along the coast the French Fleet are now aiding the British + monitors, smashing the heavy buns rolled up to the coast by the + Germans." + +In the heavy bun department we fear no rivals, and the Germans will soon +find that in more than one railway-station refreshment department they +will meet their Waterloo. + + * * * * * + +TO A FALSE PATRIOT. + + He came obedient to the Call; + He might have shirked like half his mates + Who, while their comrades fight and fall, + Still go to swell the football gates. + + And you, a patriot in your prime, + You waved a flag above his head, + And hoped he'd have a high old time, + And slapped him on the back and said: + + "You'll show 'em what we British are! + Give us your hand, old pal, to shake;" + And took him round from bar to bar + And made him drunk--for England's sake. + + That's how you helped him. Yesterday, + Clear-eyed and earnest, keen and hard, + He held himself the soldier's way-- + And now they've got him under guard. + + That doesn't hurt you; you're all right; + Your easy conscience takes no blame; + But he, poor boy, with morning's light, + He eats his heart out, sick with shame. + + What's that to you? You understand + Nothing of all his bitter pain; + You have no regiment to brand; + You have no uniform to stain; + + No vow of service to abuse, + No pledge to KING and country due; + But he had something dear to lose, + And he has lost it--thanks to you. + + * * * * * + +UNWRITTEN LETTERS TO THE KAISER. + +No. VI. + +(_From Professor HERMANN MÜLLER, Ph.D., Private in the ----th Regiment +of Prussian Infantry._) + +_Belgium._ + +YOUR MAJESTY,--I am one of your Majesty's most loyal and most faithfully +devoted subjects, and, if I now write to you, it is not because I doubt +for one moment that you are inspired in all your actions by a clearer +wisdom and a firmer grasp of facts than any that I can pretend to, but +because there are certain questions which obstinately press upon me to +such an extent that I must relieve my mind of them. + +At the beginning I was a firm believer in the necessity of this war, and +in the perfect and not-to-be-shattered justice of our cause. I had read +all that there was to read: TREITSCHKE, NIETZSCHE, BERNHARDI, FROBENIUS +and a hundred others, from whose writings it can be most easily shown +that Germany alone among nations has the power and the will to expand +and to rule; that expansion and rule must be accomplished by war, which, +far from being a misfortune, is a noble object to be aimed at and not +avoided by statesmen; that all other nations are degenerate and must for +their own good be crushed by Germany; and that any nation which resists +Germany is through that very act an enemy of the human race. I also +believed that German culture is something different from and superior to +such culture (if it be worthy of the name) as is possessed by other +countries. All these beliefs I set out in my booklet entitled, "Der +Lorbeerkranz," which I humbly and with the most profound heart's +devotion dedicated to your august and glorious Majesty. Did you, I +wonder, deign to cast your Imperial eyes on this effort of my pen? How +well I remember obtaining my first copy of the book on the happy day +that saw its publication. It seemed printed in letters of gold, and, +filled with high yearnings and expectations, I took it home to my +beloved Anna. We read it aloud together, turn and turn about, with +laughter and applause and tears, for we saw therein the foundation of +fame. + +So, at the war's beginning, I shouted with the rest for my KAISER and my +country, knowing that the war was just and that we should end by +annexing England's colonies, after destroying her armies and her ships, +and those of France and Russia into the bargain. + +Well, that is already, as it seems to me, a thousand years ago, and I +must admit that at that time I did not consider it possible that I +myself with all my weight of learning as well as my regulation knapsack +should be marching about, or lying in a trench on the plains of +Flanders, divided by a few hundred yards from English soldiers, who have +in their hands rifles and bayonets, and know how to use them. In the +intervals of firing, as we lie there, a man has time to think, and it is +wonderful how clear his ideas become in such conditions. Some of us do +not think or think only what they are told. Poor simple fellows, they +still believe they are even now at the gates of Paris, and that +to-morrow is the day appointed for the entrance; whereas I know that, +having been close to Paris in a mad rush, our armies have since +retreated day after day. + +But all this happened before I myself had to join the fight with the +older men. Now I know that the English and the French have much to say +for themselves, and, in any case, that it is plain nonsense--I beg Your +Majesty's pardon for using this word, but it is there and I will not +strike it out--it is plain nonsense to believe that the good God who has +made us all has had any interest in making our Germans out of better +clay than that which He has used for other men. I cannot even make an +exception in the case of your Imperial Majesty's own self. Thus do my +thoughts run in the trenches during this dreadful battle. What things +have I heard, what awful sights have I seen since I received my marching +orders! I think of Anna and of little Karl, and hope only that some day +I shall be far away from these scenes in a place where peace shall reign +and I can see them both again. But when will this be? + + With most humble respect, + + HERMANN MÜLLER. + + * * * * * + +"THE GREATER GAME." + +This Cartoon, which deals with professional football and the War, and +appeared in the issue of _Punch_ for October 21, has now been reprinted +in the form of Posters and Handbills. These will be gladly sent free of +charge, for the purpose of distribution or exhibition, to anyone +interested in recruiting among football players and the enormous crowds +that attend League Matches. Applications, stating the number required, +should be addressed to The Secretary, _Punch_ Offices, 10, Bouverie +Street, E.C., who will gratefully acknowledge any contributions towards +the expense involved. + +"The Greater Game" is also being reproduced in the form of a Lantern +Slide for exhibition at Cinemas, etc. + + * * * * * + + "Plaintiff, Mr. W. E. Brown, trading as Bre-...oEwenforOD.tonthr.s)- + cflandshrdlucmfwyptherton and Watt, auctioneers, of Winton, + claimed a sum of £4 13s. 6d."--_Bournemouth Echo._ + +In our "List of firms which must have a telegraphic address" Mr. BROWN +takes a high place. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: FOREWARNED. + +ZEPPELIN (_as "The Fat Boy"_). "'I WANTS TO MAKE YOUR FLESH CREEP.'" + +JOHN BULL. "RIGHT-O!" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Jim_ (_just leaving for Egypt_). "WELL, GOOD-BYE, +MOTHER; TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. I'LL BRING YOU A PYRAMID WHEN I COME BACK +HOME." + +_Mother._ "THA MUN DO NOWT O' T' SOORT, LAD. THA MUNNA GET THYSEN I' ANY +TROUBLE FOR ME." + + * * * * * + +ANOTHER INNOCENT VICTIM OF THE WAR. + +SIR,--Will you grant me the hospitality of your columns for the exposure +of a grievance? The rest of the Press, which until recent mouths have +welcomed my communications, seem to have become indifferent to matters +affecting the health and comfort of the intellectual classes. + +I am a professional man. For the past five-and-twenty years, with only +one exception (the year following the Diamond Jubilee of the late QUEEN +VICTORIA), I have fallen a victim during the first days of November to +an attack of bronchial catarrh. In this distressing complaint, as you +may be aware, an early symptom is a fit of sneezing, with other manifest +discomfort which I need not here particularise. + +For the past twenty-five years (with the one exception to which I have +alluded) my first sneeze has been the signal for alarm among the +women-folk of my household. My elder sister goes quietly upstairs for +the bottle of ammoniated quinine; my younger sister explores the +recesses of a cupboard for the piece of red flannel to which I have been +accustomed; and Emily, the maid, without being instructed, puts the +kettle on the gas-stove. Any lady visitor there may be in the house is +ready with suggestions of alternative remedies, recalling numerous +interesting and instructive examples. Light and nourishing dishes are +prepared for my dinner; a hot-water bottle is placed in my bed; and in +the bedroom a fire is lit. I retire to rest at 9.30, and, having +disrobed and covered myself with an augmented supply of blankets, I am +brought a glass of hot milk by one of my sisters, who gently places my +dressing-gown round my shoulders while I drink it. Afterwards I lie down +to sleep, with the bell-push within reach. A tap at the door wakes me +next morning. "May I bring in a cup of tea, dear Septimus?" asks my +other sister. I am implored to remain in bed for the day, and swift +arrangements are made with the butcher, when he calls, to telephone a +message to the office. Emily refrains from singing while washing up, and +wears felt slippers during her duties about the house. + +Such, Sir, has been the routine attending this practically annual event +for the past five-and-twenty years. But I regret to inform you that a +secret and sinister change has been at work in our domestic relations. +The first sneeze of this year's attack took place last evening. My once +attentive sisters, immersed in wool and flannel of all shades, took no +notice; Miss Annistay, an old family friend, alone remarked upon my +condition, stating that colds were very prevalent, and adding somewhat +irrelevantly that it must be terrible in the trenches this weather. For +dinner I had nothing more sustaining than our customary fare, and when I +asked for hot milk at bedtime my sisters inquired, "Whatever for, +Septimus?" I sought my chamber, only to find, on enquiry, that my +dressing-gown, my extra blankets and my hot-water bottle had +disappeared--gone, I understand, to a local hospital. And, far from +remaining in bed to-day, I am writing this from my office, an +exceedingly draughty apartment. + + Yours cordially, + SEPTIMUS CODDELL. + +P.S.--Of course I thoroughly approve of the idea that we must all make +sacrifices in time of war; but, as I tell my household, these sacrifices +should be personal and not vicarious. + + * * * * * + +OUR GUY. + +We feel just a little hurt that the police have not prohibited our +village bonfire. Why shouldn't Zeppelins come to Little Pilswick? Why +should an arrogant metropolis monopolise everything? Still we hid our +mortification and the Guy Committee met as usual in the saloon bar of +the "Bull". + +In the first instance Prodgers moved that the celebration be dropped, +and that all material already collected be given to the Belgian +refugees. It was pointed out to him that a gift of two empty tar-barrels +and half-a-dozen furze bushes, though meant in all kindness, might prove +embarrassing to any relief committee. Besides, we are happy in the +entertainment of two Belgian families, and the feeling was that the +sight of an uncultured fire would cheer them. So Prodgers was +temporarily crushed. Then came the all-important question of the guy. + +Mr. Flodden, the landlord, began the discussion. "Last year we'd LLOYD +GEORGE, but we can't have no politics now, though he's--well, I wish I +could tell him what he is. Year before we'd the Squire for stopping up +that footpath, but he's in the Yeomanry now, so he's barred." + +"The KAISER!" cried Jenkins. "Have him with mailed fists holding up a +torn scrap of paper." + +"No, the CROWN PRINCE," suggested Webb. "Everyone would know him if we +put a silver spoon in each hand and hung a silver coffee-pot round his +neck." + +"DE WET," proposed Cobb. + +"Had him twelve year or more ago," said the landlord. "DE WET'S off." + +A fierce controversy now ensued between partisans of the KAISER and the +CROWN PRINCE. Prodgers argued ably that it was much worse to destroy a +cathedral than to steal plate; whilst Unwin, the jobbing builder, +declared that the damaging of a cathedral gave work to a very deserving +class of men, and said he would very much rather see the parish +church-tower knocked down than the Vicar's spoons stolen. At last +feeling ran so high it was decided to put the matter to the vote. Five +voted for the light-headed KAISER, five for his light-fingered heir. All +eyes turned on the landlord to see which way his casting vote would go. + +"Friends all," said. Mr. Flodden, "we've kep' ourselves respectable in +this village. Even our guys have been respectable, though, mind you, +that LLOYD GEORGE--well, if it wasn't wartime, I'd say he come precious +near the line. Now what's the good of us letting ourselves down to burn +these 'Uns? What about old GUY FAWKES? I grant you he wanted to blow up +the 'Ouses of Parliament; but, if there was licensing bills in those +days, I don't blame him. I say stick to old GUY and be respectable." + +It was carried unanimously. + +Somewhere in his rush from theatre to theatre of the war a message will +reach the KAISER. The hatred of a world may flatter him, but the cold, +chilling contempt of Little Pilswick will pierce to his very heart. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: OBVIOUS EMBARRASSMENT OF LITTLE BINKS, WHO HAS INJURED +HIS HAND IN THE PEACEFUL OCCUPATION OF PICTURE-HANGING, AT BEING +MISTAKEN FOR A WOUNDED HERO. + + * * * * * + +THE REPORT FALLACIOUS. + +I have a son, William. But there are compensations; he is at school. + +It was at the crisis of parting at the station that it seemed to me +necessary to give William a word of parental advice. I hate seeing small +boys at such moments stuffing themselves in refreshment-rooms. + +"William," I said, "life is not all cricket and football." + +"No, father" replied William, looking hard at the refreshment-room, +"there's golf." + +"That, William, is scarcely a game. I should describe it in my own case +as an exercise taken under medical advice, to obtain relief from +business strain." + +"Father," burst out William, "there's Cheffins minor in the +refreshment-room." + +"William," I proceeded, "at the end of each term I receive an +unsatisfactory report about you from your house-master. It is only then +that I know you have wasted three months of golden time." ("Golden time" +was a happy inspiration.) + +"Old Starks is a rotter," said William briefly. + +"Now I put you on your honour, William, to send me a truthful report of +your progress at the half-term. Then if you are not doing well I can +write and ask that you should have special attention. On your honour, +mind." + +"Yes, father. Shall we go across to the refreshment-room now?" + +"Ah, yes, certainly," I said, noticing a signal drop. "Oh, no; here's +your train coming in." + +Then having done my duty I forgot all about the promised report. It +arrived unexpectedly this morning. He had framed it precisely on the +model of his house-master's reports:-- + +_Position in Form._ First. + +_Progress._ Very marked; decidedly more attentive and industrious. + +_Latin._ A distinct improvement in versification. Translates easily and +intelligently. + +_Greek._ Displays remarkable promise. + +("Of course it won't be much use to him in my leather business," I said +to my wife; "still it shows grit.") + +_Mathematics._ Again marked progress is to be recorded. + +_Conduct._ Courteous, orderly, obedient. A good influence in the house. + +_General Remarks._ Will achieve a high position in the school, but must +take care that too close absorption in study does not interfere with his +athletic development. + +"Most gratifying," I said to my wife. "I just put the boy on his honour. +I don't believe in lecturing boys. Ah, what's this at the bottom?" + +I read with horror the foot-note, "_Per_ Wireless from Berlin." + +I am a parent, so I instructed my wife to write a letter saying how much +I was pained by William's frivolity. I am a patriot, so, without her +knowledge, I slipped a postal order for ten shillings into the envelope. + + * * * * * + +We hear there is no truth in the report that Mr. JAMES WELCH intends +renaming his successful farce (now moved to the New Theatre) "When +Nights Were Dark." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: + +_Visitor_ (_leaving inn after sleepless night_). "I SUPPOSE YOU DON'T +HAPPEN TO BE A GERMAN?" + +_Landlord._ "DO I LOOK LIKE IT?" + +_Visitor._ "NO; BUT I THOUGHT I'D JUST ASK BECAUSE MY ROOM LAST NIGHT +HAD A CONCRETE BED IN IT." + + * * * * * + +THE GREAT PETARD. + +(_Being some further reliable information about the enormous siege gun +which is to shell us from Calais._) + + + This is the tale of the Master Hun + And how, on thinking it over, + He bade his henchmen build him a gun + With a belly as huge as the Heidelberg Tun + To batter the cliffs of Dover. + + See how the Uhlans' lances toss! + As a mother her child they love it; + Guarding it well from scathe and loss + They have stamped its side with a big Red Cross, + And the white flag waves above it. + + First it was cast in Essen town; + Junkers in gay apparel + Flocked to sample its high renown, + And a dozen or more, they say, sat down + To dinner inside its barrel. + + Fair and free did the Rhine wine flow + Till the face of every glutton + Shone with a patriot's after-glow, + And then they retired a mile or so + And the WAR LORD pressed the button. + + _Hoch!_ The howitzer stood the test, + Belching like fifty craters, + And (this is perhaps the cream of the jest) + There was more than metal inside its chest, + For they hadn't removed the waiters. + + Now it has come on armoured trains + To the further side of the Channel; + Prayers are said in a hundred fanes + For its godlike soul, and whenever it rains + They muffle its throat with flannel. + + Strange indeed is the cry of its shells, + Like a pack of hounds in full wail, + Like the roar of a mountain stream that swells + Or like anything else from a peal of bells + To the bark of a wounded bull-whale. + + But the worst of it is that when--and if-- + It begins its work of slaughter + It will possibly harm the Kentish cliff, + But it's perfectly certain to go and biff + The French one into the water. + + So when you shall hear a noise on high + Like the medium brush of a barber, + And a monstrous bullet falls from the sky + And blows off the head of a Prussian spy + As he dallies in Dover Harbour, + + You shall know that at last the WAR LORD'S host, + By dint of a stout endeavour, + Have chipped off a bit of the Calais coast + And caused the isle that they pant for most + To be further away than ever. + + EVOE. + + * * * * * + +THE PEACE CIGAR. + +"By the way, Lorna was there this morning," said Celia. "Her brother's +in the War Office." + +"And what did KITCHENER tell him when they last had lunch together?" I +asked. + +"Well," smiled Celia, "he does say that----" + +I get all my best news from Celia nowadays. When I meet you in the City +and mention that I know for a fact that the KAISER is in hiding at +Liverpool, you may be sure that Celia saw Vera yesterday morning, and +that Vera's uncle is somebody important on the Liverpool Defence +Committee. + +Twice a week Celia ties up parcels for the Fleet. Ordinary people +provide the blankets, sea-boots, chocolate, periscopes and so forth; +Celia looks after the brown paper and string, which always seems to me +the most tricky part. There are a dozen of them, all working together; +and you can imagine (or, anyhow, _I_ can) Vera or Kitty or Isobel, her +mouth full of knot, gossiping away about her highly-placed relations, +while Beryl or Evelyn or Lorna looks up from the parcel she is kneeling +on and interrupts, "Well, my _brother_ heard----I say, where did you +put my scissors?" + +"Well," smiled Celia, "Lorna's brother in the War Office says the war +will be over by Christmas." + +"Hooray," I said; and I went out and looked at my cigar. + +This cigar arrived at my house in a case of samples last July. The +samples went up from right to left in order of importance, each in his +own little bed--until you got to Torpedo Jimmy at the end, who had a +double bed to himself. Starting with _Cabajo fino_ in the right-hand +corner, the prices ranged from about nine a penny to five pounds apiece, +the latter being the approximate charge for T. James or any of his +brethren. + +Celia was looking over my shoulder when I opened the case, and she +surveyed my brown friends with interest. + +"When are you going to smoke _that_ one?" she asked, touching Torpedo +Jimmy's cummerbund with the tip of her finger. + +"On your birthday," I said. + +"Bother, then I shan't see much of you. Couldn't you smoke it on two +ordinary days instead?" + +"You can only smoke a cigar that size after a very good dinner," I +explained. + +"What was the matter with the tapioca pudding last night?" said Celia +sternly. + +"I mean you must have champagne and bands and lots of lights, and +managers bowing all round you, and pretty people in the distance, +and--all that sort of thing. You can't do that at home. Besides, I shall +want a waiter or two to hold the far end of it while I'm smoking. It'll +be all right going there; we can put it on the top of a cab." + +"Of course it will be lovely going out with you," said Celia, "but Jane +will be very disappointed. She'd have liked to hear it buzzing." + +"I hope it won't buzz," I said. + +"Couldn't you smoke it now, and then we'd go out next week and celebrate +your recovery." She sighed. "My birthday's a long way off," she said +wistfully, thinking of the band and the lights and the pretty people in +the distance--and not necessarily in the distance either. + +"Well, p'raps we'll think of another excuse. Anyhow it will be a very +great day, and if I survive we shall often look back upon it." + +Celia stroked it again. + +"It's just like a torpedo, isn't it?" she said. And so we called it +Torpedo Jimmy. A torpedo is actually a little bit bigger. Not much, +however. + +That was July. When August came we knew that there would be no excuse +before the birthday and that the birthday would be no excuse. The great +dinner was postponed. It didn't matter, because we forgot about the +great dinner. + +But towards the end of September Celia came across the sample case +again. All the beds were empty now but one. Torpedo James still lay in +his four-poster, brown and inscrutable. + +"Better put him away," she said, "and on the day that peace is signed +you can take us both out." + +And so Torpedo Jimmy became a symbol. The more I long for peace, the +more I long for that historic smoke. When Louisa's brother or Nora's +uncle has a long pessimistic talk with KITCHENER, then I look sadly at +my cigar; but when FRENCH and JOFFRE unbend to Vera's stepfather or +Beryl's cousin and give him words of cheer, then I take it out and pinch +it fondly, and already I see the waiter coming round with a torch to +light it. + +I have been looking at it to-day, and I see that it is giving a little +at one end. I fancy that the moth has been getting at it. Well, if it +does not last till peace is signed, it will be a peace that I shall not +believe in. For a stable peace, as all our eminent novelists keep +pointing out in all the papers, many things are necessary, and one of +them is that I should smoke my cigar happily on the first night of it. +Torpedo Jimmy must do himself justice. No premature explosions; no moths +flying out from the middle of it; no unauthorised ventilation. The exact +moment must be chosen by the Allies. My cigar must be ripe ... and yet +not too ripe. + +Celia says she is sure it will be just lovely. So sure is she that she +suggests hanging the cigar in the hall and tapping it to see how the war +is going. "When it taps exactly right, then we shall know the war is +just over." + +But I think we shall know that anyhow. EDWARD GREY will break it to +Beryl's nephew all right; Celia will climb down off her parcel and rush +home to me with the news; I shall ring up the restaurant and order +dinner ... and at eight o'clock, in great spirits, we shall get into our +taxi and drive off together--Celia and I and Torpedo Jimmy. + + A. A. M. + + * * * * * + +SOME FACTS ABOUT THE WAR + +(_An essay in the prevailing mode_). + +The actual cost of hostilities has been estimated by reliable +authorities at the enormous sum of £143,468 0_s._ 0-1/2_d._ _per diem_ +for this country alone. The odd halfpenny presumably represents the cost +of an evening edition bought by the official contradictor in the +exercise of his duties. + + * * * + +Amongst the (more or less) skilled industries that have been gravely +affected by the outbreak of hostilities must now be placed the making of +prophetic fiction. It is calculated that the number of novels dealing +with _The Next Great War_ that have had to be scrapped must run well +into four figures. + + * * * + +On the other hand, the number of novelists who will in the future begin +their Historical Romances, "It was in the late summer of 1914," is +beyond human calculation. + + * * * + +In view of the reported insurance of Westminster Abbey against damage by +air-craft, a correspondent asks what steps are being taken towards the +illumination of the Albert Memorial. + + * * * + +It is at least odd that Olympia should have been selected as the Ideal +Home for our Undesirable Aliens. The last German production in the same +building was _The Miracle_. Many of the interned are said to be +expecting another. + + * * * * * + + "Mrs. Mallaby Deeley is doing good work in securing withers for + horses." + + _Harrow Observer._ + +And now every horse which goes to the Front can be certain of having its +own withers. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _First Lady_ (_horrified at bright scarlet muffler for +Navy, the creation of second lady_). "MY DEAR--THE COLOUR! IT'LL MAKE A +TARGET FOR THE GERMANS!" + +_Second Lady._ "OH! THEN IT'LL HAVE TO DO FOR THE STOKER." + + * * * * * + +THE LADY'S WALK. + + I know a Manor by the Thames; + I've seen it oft through beechen stems + In leafy Summer weather; + We've moored the punt its lawns beside + Where peacocks strut in flaunting pride, + The Muse and I together. + + There I have seen the shadows grow + Gigantic, as the sun sinks low, + Leaving forlorn the dial; + When zephyrs in the borders stir, + Distilling stock and lavender + To fill some fairy's phial. + + There, when the dusk joins hands with night, + (I like to think the story's right-- + I had it from the Rector-- + Still, don't believe unless you choose!) + Doth walk, between the shapen yews, + A little pretty spectre, + + The Lady Rose, a well-born maid + Whose true-love in this garden glade-- + A bold, if faithless, fellow-- + Had loved, but left her for the sake + Of venturing with FRANKIE DRAKE, + And died at Puerto Bello; + + While she--poor foolish loving Rose-- + Of heart-break, so the story goes, + Died very shortly after, + One day--as Art requires--when Spring + Had set the hawthorns blossoming + And waked the lanes to laughter. + + And so adown these alleys dim, + Where oft she'd kept a tryst with him, + She nightly comes a-roaming; + And, sorrowing still, yet finds content, + I fancy, where "Sweet Themmes" is blent + With flower-beds and the gloaming. + + Ah me, the leaf is down to-day; + Does still the little phantom stray, + Poor pretty ghost, a-shiver, + When sad flowers droop their weary heads + Along the chill Autumnal beds + Beside the misty river? + + Or does it, at the year's decline-- + As sensible as Proserpine-- + When Autumn skies do harden, + Go down and coax the seeds to grow + Till daffodillies stand a-row + And April's in the garden? + + I cannot tell; what's more, I doubt + We've other things to think about + This sorrowful November; + I only know for such sad hours + That dainty ghosts and Summer flowers + Are pleasant to remember. + + * * * * * + +The Absolute Limit. + + "The directors of the Bradford Club have reviewed the position in + regard to the free admission of soldiers to the ground, the number + of men thus admitted having been far greater than was anticipated. + It has now been decided that men in uniform or bearing other + credentials of service shall be admitted to section E on payment of + the nominal sum of 3d. This will prevent the jostling of the + ordinary patrons."--_Bradford Daily Telegraph._ + +A cruiser here and there may be sunk, a regiment here and there may be +cut up, but thank God our Bradford football patrons will never again be +jostled by any of these vulgar soldiers in uniform. + + * * * * * + +Notice in a Battersea window:-- + + "BRIDE CAKES + ANY SIZE +TO SUIT ALL POCKETS." + +In these days of narrow skirts most women will find the guinea size +sufficient. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: FACTS FROM THE FRONT. + +TACTICAL USE, BY THE ENEMY, OF THE MORE RESILIENT UNITS OF THE LANDSTURM +FOR NEGOTIATING BELGIAN DYKES. + + * * * * * + +OUR LITERARY WAR LORDS. + + ["The other day the enemy's artillery fire on my battery was so + great that we were forced to take cover. I sat crouched in my + 'funk-hole' for seventeen solid hours. Luckily I had Jacobs's 'Sea + Urchins' with me, which I read to the accompaniment of screaming and + bursting shells." + + _Officer in the Royal Field Artillery._] + +_Mr. Punch_, while remarking that he is not surprised that the shells +screamed in the circumstances, begs to assure his readers that, if the +following information corresponds with the facts, Mr. Jacobs is not the +only author who has been solacing our troops in the trenches. + +Miss Carrie Morelli writes: "There has so far been no public mention of +any books of mine being read in the trenches and affording solace to our +gallant troops. This, however, is because all the reports from the Front +come from men, and men are notoriously jealous of feminine activity in +literature as elsewhere. I have no doubt in my own mind that many a +soldier in action has been cheered by hurried glances at my novels, a +list of which can be forwarded on application." + +An unsigned letter from the Isle of Man states that the writer, who +rightly wishes to remain anonymous, possesses a copy of a novel of +astonishing genius, in which a German bullet is embedded. This book, it +seems, was the inseparable companion of a soldier in the 3rd Manx +Highlanders, who carried it always next his heart, and in its position +in that intimate and honoured spot it saved his life. The writer, who +confesses to being the author of the novel in question, states that he +would divulge both his own name and that of the title of the book but +that his objection to publicity amounts to a mania. + +The publishers of _The Orangery_, by Mrs. Markley, write to inform us of +an astounding incident which throws a new and sensational light on the +campaign in the Western Theatre of War. It appears that at a critical +moment during the great effort of the Germans to break through the left +flank of the Allies, General VON KLUCK absolutely refused to see or +consult with his Staff for the space of three hours. It subsequently +transpired that a copy of _The Orangery_, which had been found in the +knapsack of a British prisoner, had come into the General's possession +and so absolutely enthralled him that he abandoned all thought of +strategy or tactics until he had finished its perusal. Owing to the +extraordinary power of Mrs. Markley's genius the German advance was +paralysed, and the Allies, resuming the offensive, drove the enemy back +in confusion, with results which have vitally affected the progress of +the campaign. + +Mr. ARNOLD BENNETT has just received a remarkable letter from a British +marine who was recently landed on the coast of Flanders. The writer +describes how, as he was reading one of Mr. BENNETT'S recent articles on +the war in a carefully excavated trench, a "Jack Johnson" shell +descended directly over him, but was suddenly diverted by the article, +and soared away at right angles, bursting with a terrific chuckle at a +safe distance. + + * * * * * + +Latest War News. + +Turkey has now joined the "Sossidges"--a trifle earlier in the year than +usual. + + * * * * * + +We understand that Pietermaritzburg will shortly change its name to +Petrobothagrad. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE EXCURSIONIST. + +_Scene_: TICKET OFFICE AT ---- (_censored_). + +TRIPPER WILHELM. "FIRST CLASS TO PARIS." CLERK. "LINE BLOCKED." + +WILHELM. "THEN MAKE IT WARSAW." CLERK. "LINE BLOCKED." + +WILHELM. "WELL, WHAT ABOUT CALAIS?" CLERK. "LINE BLOCKED." + +WILHELM. "HANG IT! I _MUST_ GO _SOMEWHERE_! I PROMISED MY PEOPLE I WOULD." + + * * * * * + +BRITAIN TO BELGIUM. + + Sister, for the tears that thou hast shed, + Sister, for thy dear undying dead, + For the sons thou hast not grudged to give, + Loyally, that Liberty might live; + Sister, for the little child + Dead beside a hearth defiled-- + Do I dream my love alone + Can atone? + + Can I bring again the brave that fell + When thy heaven crumbled into hell? + Can I banish from before thine eyes + Haunting visions under haggard skies? + Blazing home and blackened plain, + Can I make them fair again? + Can I ever heal thy smart, + Broken Heart? + + Sister, we be women, thou and I; + Sorrow's craving who can satisfy? + None may pay thee back so dear a loss, + Only let me help to bear thy cross. + Sick and hungry in their need + Let me succour, let me feed; + Little Sister, freely take + For their sake. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: "'HE'S AS WILLING AS A CHRISTIAN; STRIKE ME BLIND IF HE +ISN'T', SAID SIKES." + +_Oliver Twist_, Chap. xvi. + +(_With apologies to the late Fred Barnard._) + + * * * * * + +AS OTHERS WISH TO SEE US. + +The ingenious German device of writing private letters to English +friends filled with German justifications of the War and news of the +gaiety and normal prosperity of Berlin is now being carried farther, and +extracts from private letters purporting to be addressed by English +people to German friends have begun to be printed in the Berlin papers. +Here follows an illustration of this type of composition:-- + +My dear friend,--I am sure you will like to hear from me, especially as +I am in a position to enlighten you as to the deplorable condition of +things in England under the fear of the Mailed Fist and forebodings of +the worst. For it is only too true that all the best and most +knowledgable people here have thrown up the sponge and are prepared for +the inevitable. + +A private letter is probably the only means of communicating the real +situation to you, for the English papers of course do not tell the +truth. In fact you must believe nothing they say, for there is a great +conspiracy here to maintain the fiction that we are high-spirited, eager +and confident. Everything is done to foster that illusion. + +BERNHARDI'S great book has been translated and is being largely sold, +and it is awful to watch the faces of the people reading it--how they +blanch and quiver. It is curious, you might think, that they read it at +all; but you know the dread fascination of the snake for the +humming-bird. The bird sees its doom, but cannot escape, and in fact +draws nearer. + +Would you believe it of this nation, so famous for its phlegm, that at +the outset of the war there was such a panic among our intellectuals +that they could not write prose at all, but all the papers were full of +rhyme? As you know, there is no sign of hysteria more trustworthy than +this. + +You may have heard that recruiting has been brisk and keen, but do not +believe this. Only by huge bribes have men been induced to join at all. +The finances of the country are being taxed to the utmost to find the +extra "palm-oil" which these mercenaries demand. + +The Birmingham factories are feverishly busy making dum-dum and +explosive bullets. + +You may have gathered from the papers that football goes on as usual. +This is so, outwardly, but as a matter of fact the games are played with +no spirit and are kept going wholly by force applied by the Government, +whose aim is thus to suggest a feeling of security in the country. A few +misguided people, who completely misunderstand the situation, hold that +footballers should go to the Front and fight; but the Government take a +more prudent view and will not allow this, holding that their agility +on the field in League Matches and so forth is of high service as an +anodyne and distraction. I have heard of more than one case of a +well-known herculean player, accustomed not only to big money but +applause and hero-worship, seriously wondering if fighting were not his +real duty and if he ought not to make a bolt for the Front, but being +compelled to acquiesce in the Government's plans and go on drawing his +salary for the public pursuit of an air-bladder. This shows you to what +a pass things have come. + +There are also hundreds of young actors in London alone who are being +forcibly kept in the country to go on entertaining and playing the fool +for the same sedative purpose. These youths are all healthy and fit, but +it is held that their true function is to work in the theatres and halls +to beguile the audiences and divert their thoughts from the terrible +reality of German invasion. With each step that the Germans draw nearer +the mummers redouble their efforts to excite laughter. Thus did NERO +fiddle. + +The terror produced by your nerve-racking Zeppelins is constant. Hardly +a soul is now to be seen in the streets of London. Everyone is below the +earth, in the Tubes and subways, which are packed by white and trembling +crowds. Every cellar is congested, the top floors having been wholly +abandoned. As a sign of the times I may tell you that a Company, called +the Aerated Dread Co., has been formed to provide iron suits for those +who can afford them, and on the Board of Directors are both the PRIME +MINISTER and Sir EDWARD GREY. So awful is the agitation from which +everyone here is suffering under the Zeppelin menace that the noise of a +tyre bursting in the street often prostrates as many as forty +passers-by. + +No more to-day, my friend. I will write again soon and add to the +melancholy picture of a once powerful nation shuddering with craven +fears. + +Give my love to your dear children. + +Your devoted K---- L----. + + * * * * * + + "On the sea dyke the Germans have posted heavy artillery.... They + have also posted gunes in the dunes."--_South Wales Echo._ + +This settles us. We shall now begin our War Poem. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: FROM THE RECRUIT'S POINT OF VIEW. + +_Sergeant._ "FORM FOURS!" "AS YOU WERE! FORM FOURS!!" "_As you were!!_ +FORM FOURS!!!" "***!!! *****!!!!" + + * * * * * + +ARCHIBONG. + + [Encouraged by the example of some eminent followers of TYRTÆUS, + _Mr. Punch_ has great pleasure in printing the following topical + soldiers' song, composed by one of his young men after reading about + a British force that seized Archibong in the Cameroons.] + + O we're marching on to good old Archibong; + And we're going most particularly strong; + For our beef is really "bully," + And they feed us very fully-- + Yes, the feeding's fit for any restaurong, + _Très bong_, + Fit for any fust-class London restaurong. + + What's the matter with the road to Archibong? + We didn't come out here to play ping-pong + Or to get up a gymkhana-- + But we'll all have a banana + When we've driven back the Proosians to Hong Kong, + Ding-dong, + When we've driven back the Proosians to Hong Kong. + + What's the matter with the town of Archibong? + It isn't quite as lively as Boulong; + But the name is very tuneful-- + Yes, I'll have another spoonful, + For I never liked my soda-water strong; + It's wrong + For a man to drink his soda-water strong. + + Then here's a parting cheer to Archibong, + Where the natives play divinely on the gong; + It's not so cool and airy + As the town of Tipperary, + But it's just as good for tittuping along + In a song, + It's just as good for tittuping along. + + * * * * * + +SCALPED. + +From Battalion Orders of a certain regiment:-- + + "The Brigadier-General regrets that the 5th are noticeable + throughout the brigade for the long, slovenly and unkempt condition + of men's hair. The Commanding Officer considers that this reflects + on the credit of the battalion and directs Company Commanders to + take immediate steps to have this slight removed for good and all." + + * * * * * + +WHAT'S IN A HYPHEN? + +From a cinema advertisement:-- + +"THE TWO-STEP CHILDREN (DRAMA)." + +It sounds rather more like Musical Comedy. + + * * * * * + + "Between them the vessels of the Allies succeeded in destroying a + German battery of field artillery, dispersed a German bridging train + collected to force the passage of the Yser, blew up an ammunition + column, killed General von Tripp, expressed pleasure at the Russians + winning in Galicia, and even regarded it as compensation for his + wound."--_Aberdeen Free Press._ + +Is there anything the Fleet _can't_ do? + + * * * * * + +LITTLE AND GOOD. + + Young Thompson was a bit too short, + But hard as nails and level-headed, + And in his soul the proper sort + Of dogged pluck was deeply bedded; + To join the ranks he almost ran, + But saw the weedy supersede him; + Though he was every inch a man, + His country didn't need him. + + He read each passionate appeal + On wall and window, cab and cart; + How impotent they made him feel! + He tried once more, though sick at heart. + In vain! He saw the sergeants smirk; + He argued, but they wouldn't heed him; + So sullenly trudged back to work-- + His country didn't need him. + + But, now the standard height's curtailed, + Again he goes to join the ranks; + Though yesterday he tried and failed + To-day they welcome him with thanks. + Apparently he's just as small, + But, since his size no more impedes him, + In spirit he is six foot tall-- + Because his country needs him. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: T. B. D. + +_Officer's Steward._ "WILL YOU TAKE YOUR BATH, SIR, BEFORE OR AFTER +HACTION?" + + * * * * * + +THE MYSTERY OF PRINCE ----. + +We seek information of the present whereabouts of Prince ---- of ----. + +Some few weeks ago the news came that he was carried wounded into a +Brussels hospital, with a velvet mask over his face, so that none might +recognise him. The PRINCE was visited in hospital by a tall man, also +heavily masked, but not so heavily as to conceal a pair of soaring +moustaches, freshly waxed. None dared speculate as to Who this Visitor +might be. The hush was tremendous. The Visitor silently pinned on the +patient a specimen of the Iron Cross and as silently left. + +It was the 37000th Iron Cross bestowed since the outbreak of war. + +At the autopsy it was proved conclusively that the bullet inside the +PRINCE was of German origin. + +After the post-mortem the PRINCE was luckily captured by the Belgians, +and held at Antwerp as hostage for the good behaviour of the German +troops occupying Brussels. + +When the fall of Antwerp became imminent the PRINCE was secretly removed +to England. A fortnight ago he was seen in a motor-car driving round +Battersea Park, accompanied and guarded by an English officer. + +The PRINCE wore his saxe-blue full-dress tunic, his corn-gold moustache +and his rather stout face, and was looking considerably depressed. + +Since that date no word has come of him. The Censor seems to have +rigidly suppressed all evidence of his movements. + +Is the PRINCE kept prisoner on a trawler sweeping the North Sea for +mines? Has he escaped in the German submarine which ventured up the +Thames as far as the lower end of Fleet Street? Or is he interned in the +searchlight apparatus at Charing Cross to insure it against attack by +Zeppelins? + +We seek exact information. + + * * * * * + + "As regards the quality of this beverage, he said he was at a loss + to know on what grounds they called it coffee."--_Daily Mail._ + +Coffee grounds, no doubt. + + * * * * * + +JOURNALISTIC CANDOUR. + + "There comes a time when no responsible organ of public opinion can + keep silence without sacrificing the tacit obligation under which it + lies to its readers."--_The Globe._ + +We are glad to note that in the same article there is a subsequent and +reassuring reference to our contemporary's "well-deserved reputation for +straightforwardness and accuracy." + + * * * * * + +The author of _Secrets of the German War Office_ writes of the German +FOREIGN MINISTER'S "atrocious taste in waistcoats":-- + + "The one he had on still sticks in my memory. It was a lurid + peach-blossom creation, spotted with greed." + +It is to guard against this that so many of his compatriots tuck their +napkins in at their necks. + + * * * * * + +AN ESCAPED PRISONER. + +It was summertime, years ago, in the early days of the war. + +Having distributed myself quite satisfactorily within a hammock, I had +just decided that nothing short of invasion or the luncheon bell should +disturb me, when my flapper niece shot forth in my direction from the +French windows of the morning-room. + +In one hand she flourished an empty birdcage and in the other what +proved to be a tin of enormous hemp seeds. + +"Wake up!" she cried as she approached rapidly through the near +distance. "The precious Balaam has escaped! The brute must have got out +while I was fetching his clean water, and the windows were _wide_ open!" + +The prospect of a canary hunt across country with a temperature at 80 +degrees in the shade positively made me shiver. + +"Your father is the man to catch it for you, Eileen," I suggested. "He's +most awfully good at catching things. I--er think he's somewhere on the +tennis-court." + +"He's not, because he was splashing about in the bathroom just now when +I wanted to fill Balaam's water-bottle." + +"All right," I said resignedly, "I'll come. Was Balaam the man or the +ass? I forget. And while we're at it why should you call the bird Balaam +at all?" + +Eileen was in no mood for foolish questionings. + +"Get up!" she ordered. "I call him Balaam because he's not a proper +canary--he's a mule." + +"Then I am not at all sure," I began hopefully, "that I can countenance +the keeping of mules in birdcages! Should the Society for the Prevention +of Cruelty to Animals get to hear of it, they would certainly----" + +"There he is!" interrupted Eileen shrilly as something yellowish flew +jerkily across a neighbouring cabbage bed. "That's Balaam! Take the +cage. I'll wait here in case he comes back!" + +By the time I had reached the further end of the cabbage bed I was just +in time to see a tawny bird vanish over a hedge, flop tantalisingly +across the road and disappear among the branches of an apple-tree on the +other side. + +What I now see to have been a mistaken idea of my duty towards Eileen +led me painfully through two hedges to the foot of the tree in whose +branches Balaam the Mule was possibly enjoying the first-fruits of his +liberty. + +In vain I produced vocal effects calculated to charm away the love of +travel from the breast of any canary; then, as Balaam persistently +refused to come to me, I proceeded slowly but surely, and accompanied by +the cage, to make my way to him. + +Whether tree-climbing shares the same age limit as that assigned to +recruits, or whether the cage was too severe a handicap, I don't know, +but halfway up I somehow found myself marooned on an obviously +inadequate branch. + +For several minutes I balanced uncertainly. Then someone began to pass +along the road beyond the hedge. As it seemed probable that their owner +might prove of use to me, I hailed the footsteps with a shout. + +The footsteps stopped and I shouted again. + +This time there was a faint scream in answer and a mauve-and-white +bonnet bobbed agitatedly up the road. + +After a few more minutes of delicate and masterly balancing I was +relieved to hear the approach of quite a number of people from the other +side of the orchard. + +Evidently the mauve-and-white bonnet had thoroughly realized my perilous +position, for my rescuers seemed to include almost the entire village. +Even the Vicar was there, armed with an assegai--no doubt a missionary +trophy. It was thoughtful of them to have turned out in such numbers to +rescue a mere visitor, but still one ploughman with a ladder would have +been ample. + +Soon words floated up to me from the mouth of the leading rescuer. "I'll +learn him!" he was saying with fervour. "I'll learn him to come +German-spying round my orchard!" + +Balaam or no Balaam, I drew the line at being assegaied to death as a +Teuton spy, so I dropped the cage with a bang and, clinging to the end +of my branch, I at last succeeded in gaining the ground in moderate +safety. + +When I had finished explaining about Balaam, they were convinced, though +evidently disappointed. + +"You see," explained the Vicar, prodding the apple-tree regretfully with +his assegai, "poor Miss Tittlepatter said that she had been attacked by +German spies from this very orchard." + +At the third prod of the Vicar's assegai, a brown-and-yellow bird flew +self-consciously from the top of the apple-tree and perched in full view +on a five-barred gate. + +"There he is!" I hissed, moving stealthily forward with the remains of +the birdcage. "There's Balaam the canary!" + +"Kenary!" contemptuously remarked the rescuer who had been so anxious to +undertake the education of Teutonic spies. "That ain't no kenary; that's +a bloomin' yellow'ammer!" + + * * * + +When, a dishevelled wreck, I reached my own gateway, I was met in the +drive by Eileen. + +"It's all right after all," she remarked cheerfully. "The stupid bird +was on the curtain pole all the time. So lucky, because, if he _had_ got +out, it would have meant an awful bother. And, I say, is it true that +they've caught a German spy down in the village?" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Salesman._ "NO, SIR, NEITHER OF THESE MASKS WAS MADE IN +GERMANY." + + * * * * * + +In aid of the Arts Fund for the relief of the many members of the +artistic professions who are in distress owing to the War, a _Matinée_ +under the patronage of QUEEN ALEXANDRA will be given at the Royal Opera +House, Covent Garden, on Thursday, Nov. 5, at 3 o'clock. Mr. THOMAS +BEECHAM will produce Bach's _Phoebus and Pan_, and Mr. GRANVILLE +BARKER will produce _Philip the King_, a new play by Mr. JOHN MASEFIELD. +_Mr. Punch_ very heartily commends the cause to his readers. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: + +_Huntsman._ "BLANKETY-BLANK THAT BLOOMIN' KAISER! I WISH MY 'OUNDS 'AD +'IM!" + +_Farmer._ "WHAT'S 'E BIN DOIN' TO YOU NOW, JACK?" + +_Huntsman._ "DOIN'? JUST LOOK AT THE 'OSSES 'E'S LEFT US TO RIDE!" + + * * * * * + +NOTES BY A WAR-DOG. + +Now I don't want to snarl at the Cause--whatever it may be--but it isn't +all beef-bones and country walks by any means. I first became aware of +it about the same time the Dachshund at the corner house began to +declare he was an Aberdeen Terrier. From that time on I scented +something wrong, though could never quite dig it out. For one thing, the +parrot began to practise a new phrase about "Down with the KAI...!" and +also "_Veeve_" the something or other. Then Mabel--who does absurd +things but has to be tolerated because she waits upon me--started tying +coloured ribbons in my hair, and later sticking little flags in my +collar; but I put a stop to that. A week ago things came to a head, and +don't look like improving. + +For the last five years my daily life has been brightened in manner +following. We live next door to a railway station and a pastry-cook's. +Every morning Mabel gives me a round hard thing she calls a penny, and +very slippery to hold in one's mouth. I carry the penny to the +pastry-cook's. The girl takes it and gives me a currant biscuit in +exchange. Sometimes there are people in the shop, and then I gaze upon +them meltingly. If they are the right sort, they melt--according to +their means; usually it's pastry. The rest of the day I spend loafing +about the station _and_ the pastry-cook's. Now all that is changed. + +Last Thursday Mabel took me to a Committee, a place full of typewriters +and ladies; and I was registered--so they said; Mabel being given a +sheet of paper all over scribble, and a wooden box with "War Relief +Fund" on it. "On Monday, dear," said Mabel, "you begin." + +I have begun. Would you believe it? I had to wear that beastly box tied +to my collar! Retrievers, I know, are used to that sort of thing; but +I'm a Collie. All that day I hung about on my old beat, and every now +and then somebody gushed and called me silly names, and dropped a penny +into my box. Conceive the hideous mockery of my position! By four +o'clock there was I sitting outside that confectioner's, wearing enough +pennies to buy the shop out, and yet not a Bath bun to the good! + +But that wasn't the worst. About five an urchin came along, looked at +mo, grinned, and tried to put something in my box. Clumsy little beast, +he trod on my foot. I sprang forward with a growl, and his offering, +whatever it was, rolled on the pavement. Round turned an old lady, and, +"Oh you wicked boy," she cried, "trying to put buttons in the hospital +box! No wonder the dog growled, sensible creature." She began fumbling +with her purse, and I was certain I saw a macaroon in her eye. "There," +she said, "there's half-a-crown for you, Doggie, dear," and, before I +could stop her, put it in the box. I could have bitten her. + +Yesterday an old gentleman stopped to stare at me, and, absent-mindedly +putting his hand in his pocket, brought out something rather like a +penny, but smaller and bright yellow, and dropped it into the box. The +very next moment he gave a violent start, looked wildly about him, +turned the colour of cold veal, and muttering, "Lord bless my soul ... +what have I done?... thought it was only" ... made a clumsy grab at my +collar. Of course I knew what he was after; he wanted my pennies; so I +just ambled off, and very soon outdistanced him. An Airedale, I suppose, +would have held him till the police arrived, but I'm a Collie. + +That very same afternoon, wandering about the station, I chanced to +saunter into the ticket-office. The clerk's a man with a very +well-regulated mind. He gives me chocolate. Just then, however, he was +out, but his three-year-old boy-puppy was there sitting on a table all +covered with bits of cardboard and little piles of pennies, ordinary +brown ones, big white ones and a few little yellow ones. Well, in less +time than it takes to cock your ears, that baby was shovelling pennies +through the slit in my box and chuckling with joy. I stood it as long as +I could, and then, in the nick of time, snatched a big white penny out +of his paw and bolted off to the confectioner's. Imagine my astonishment +when the girl actually refused to serve me! "Oh, Scottie," she cried, +"there must be some mistake; I _know_ your mistress wouldn't give you a +two-shilling piece." + + * * * + +I thought Mabel was going to be ill when she felt the weight of my box. +She dragged me off that very afternoon to the Committee, and when they +discovered I'd collected seven pounds ten in three days the idiotic +things they said about me beat anything in my experience since the time +I killed the mouse in the conservatory. But I will say Mabel did the +right thing by me at the pastry-cook's. + +She's going to take me to a Church Bazaar to-morrow. But I doubt if a +bazaar can beat that ticket-office. + + * * * * * + +HERBERT. + +"I haven't introduced Herbert to you yet, have I?" + +Stella-my-niece spoke with her eyes on the matinée hat before her, and +concluded, _à propos_ of the hat, though at first I feared of +Herbert--"I do hope and pray that it will come off. Hip! Hip! She's +pulling out pins." + +"I had no idea there was--a Herbert." + +"Oh, Nunckle! and you're responsible for the fact that he's mine at +all!" + +"I responsible?" + +"Well, but for you I never might have seen him even; and I'm sure there +isn't another like Herbert in the whole round world. Everyone wants +him." + +Presently I enquired when she proposed to introduce this paragon to the +person responsible for him. + +"I've got him here to-day." + +I looked at her in pained silence, for Stella-my-niece, calmly fishing +for "hard ones" in a chocolate box, was, as it were, sheltered under the +lee of a long-haired gentleman who occupied rather more than double +half-a-crown's worth of red velvet seat. + +"There?" I whispered, pointing to the long-haired gentleman who +neighboured her, and wondering what her mother would have to say about +it all. + +Stella-my-niece smiled. + +"Do you imagine that I should bring Herbert into the pit?" + +"Point him out to me." + +"I can't. Now they're going to begin!" She snuggled down into her place +and invited me to do likewise in my own as the curtain rose and revealed +the legs of one of our leading actor-managers, and the audience clapped, +hoping for more. "Now we're going to enjoy ourselves! Don't forget to +hold my hand if anything pops." + +Stella-my-niece has made it a stern rule that we are not to talk during +the Acts, contriving to telegraph her appreciation of most things by +fervent clutches at my arm; but to-day the effects of this salutary +regulation were spoilt for me by Herbert. My attention wandered. + +"Is he an actor?" I asked sternly, as the lights leaped up again. + +"Which do you mean? I think they were all perfect darlings in that +scene." + +"Why, Herbert, of course." + +"HERBERT--Sir HERBERT? He isn't in this, is he? I didn't see anyone +looking as bored as he does. Hunt him up in the programme--it's down +there under your boots." + +"I didn't mean TREE. I meant Herbert--your Herbert." + +"My Herbert?" Stella-my-niece opened her mouth showing astonishment and +very pretty teeth. + +"Yes, your Herbert. He's an actor fellow, isn't he?" + +"No, he's an umbrella--my new umbrella. I bought him with the sovereign +you sent me for my birthday, and he is such a darling! I felt he ought +to have a name of his own, so I called him Herbert. He looks like that." + +"A girl's name--Maud, for instance, only one doesn't use them in the +garden much----" + +"A girl's name, like Pauline, may suit your fountain pen, and Dad may +call the motor 'Mary Jane' when he's pleased with how he's mended her; +but I decided I would have a man's. It sounds better to say, 'Herbert is +seeing me home, thank you.' The sad thing is that I'm sure I shan't keep +him long; he's so pretty. When he's waiting for me in umbrella-stands I +feel nervous, and in trains. He's so unique--so utterly unlike anyone +else's umbrella. I know you'll love him." + +I did as soon as ever I saw him coming out of the cloak-room hanging on +her arm. There was a gentle coyness in the turn of Herbert's handle, a +nutty daintiness about his little gold tie which made me look +involuntarily for his socks. + +"Now, you wait and see if someone doesn't try to run off with him before +we get home," said Stella-my-niece. "I'll hold him on a long lead so +that people will think he's out by himself, and we'll await +developments." + +We settled ourselves by tact and firmness in a crowded _après matinée_ +'bus, and Stella-my-niece, having set down all her belongings the better +to persuade the programme to ride inside her pocket, took Herbert by his +long tassels, leaving him leaning against the seat between herself and +her neighbour, a lady with many trimmings and a book. + +"I hope she'll go before we do," said Stella-my-niece in my ear. "I sort +of feel that she'll try to take Herbert." + +She did; as she read, her hand reached out and took a grip upon +Herbert's immaculate head! Stella-my-niece stifled a squeak of pure +excitement. + +"Oxford Street," announced the conductor dispassionately, and the +trimmed lady shut her book and rose to get out. Stella-my-niece, holding +Herbert by his tassels, smiled indulgently. + +"You have my umbrella, I'm afraid," she said sweetly. "It is such a very +uncommon one that I simply couldn't be mistaken." + +The trimmed lady looked round; so did everyone in the 'bus. Then she +pointed to a slim object propped against the seat between +Stella-my-niece's blue skirt and my own striped garments. + +"That's yours by the gentleman; they're just the same pattern." + +So they were! + + * * * + +As Stella-my-niece said afterwards at tea, the worst of it was that it +proved that Herbert wasn't quite unique; at the best he was a twin. I +think that privately we thought him something worse than a triplet, but +we neither knew quite how to say it. Anyhow, all the Herberts are +fascinating. + + * * * * * + +THE UNIVERSAL WAR. + + "Into this gap the Germans placed a number of gnus--six or + eight."--_People._ + +The "Gorilla Warfare" (mentioned last week) having failed, the enemy +tries a new dodge. But the Allies remain unalarmed. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: LATEST DEVICE OF THE ENEMY. + +LEARNING TO SING "IT'S A LONG, LONG WAY TO TIPPERARY" FOR THE PURPOSE OF +DECEIVING THE ALLIES. + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +If, as is just conceivable, the Teuton braggart fails to convert the +universe into a German empire, his downfall will be partly due to his +lack of humour. Among the things that go to make this saving grace are +an agile imagination and a nice sense of proportion, and it is when a +man starts lying about himself that he shows most clearly whether or not +he has it. Some weeks ago an "Honorary Committee of thirty-four +distinguished" (or, if you will, notorious) "Germans and a Board of +Editors," eleven strong, gathered together to concoct an epoch-making +fib, which, upon completion, was labelled "The Truth about Germany: +Facts about the War", and was circulated, secretly but thoroughly, +throughout the United States. The Forty-five Liars content themselves +with a methodical misstatement of every fact, disregarding all the +evidence, and, indeed, their own diplomatists' admissions, to the +contrary. There is no ingenious perversion of the truth, no subtle +invention of argument and no appeal whatever to the intelligence of the +reader; it is from beginning to end heavy and quite incredible bosh. +Though it was never intended to be read in this country, Mr. DOUGLAS +SLADEN has been lucky or clever enough to secure a copy of it, which he +reproduces cheaply under the title _Germany's Great Lie_ (HUTCHINSON). I +congratulate him upon having obtained such excellent copy, but I think +he has somewhat spoilt the effect of it by the manner of his annotations +interposed in italics. His facts and quotations are apt and useful, but +his indignant denials and sarcastic epithets run to excess; every time +one reads the emphatic assertion that black is white one does not want +to have also to read that this is an amazing lie. I recommend the public +to consume every word of the text, but to omit the larger part of the +notes. + + * * * + +In the nature of things it is possible that the 1914 crop of gift-books +for boys may not be a bumper one as far as quantity is concerned, but +Mr. HENRY NEWBOLT has already removed any danger of a famine. Indeed, he +has done more than that, for, if quality can (as it should) be +considered a satisfactory substitute for bulk, there is no reason why +1914 should not be remembered as a year in which the palates of +discerning boys were most delightfully tickled. I find a difficulty in +preventing my congratulations upon _The Book of the Blue Sea_ (LONGMANS) +from being fulsome. To begin with, the title itself is simply +irresistible. Then, before you even get to the preface, there are some +verses, "The Song of the Larboard Berth," which cry "halt" so +arrestingly that after I had got by them and was fairly revelling in the +entrancing pages that follow I kept on going back to have another look +at + + "When moonlight flecks the cruiser's decks + And engines rumble slow ..." + +To a nicety Mr. NEWBOLT knows how to reproduce the spirit of the sea and +of adventure thereon, and whether he is writing of EDWARD PELLEW, JOHN +FRANKLIN, DAVID FARRAGUT, or of Trafalgar, it is only possible to escape +from his grip when he endeavours to be a little edifying. Boys may +conceivably resent this tendency to point out what they can see +extraordinarily well for themselves, but all the same they will admit +their heavy debt to him. _The Book of the Blue Sea_ (I must write that +again), excellently illustrated by Mr. NORMAN WILKINSON, had better be +confiscated forthwith by parents who do not wish their sons to become +sailors. And in the end I am left wondering whether the Admiralty, +overburdened by clamorous applicants, would not be wise to intern Mr. +NEWBOLT in one of those camps where no ink or paper is provided, +because, if he repeats this performance, we shall want a dozen new naval +colleges and hundreds and hundreds more ships. + + * * * + +_Shifting Sands_ (LANE) reads like a book with a purpose from which the +purpose has been by some oversight omitted. When a young person fails to +"find herself" (as the phrase used to go) there should surely be +provided some foil to her instability, either implicit in the behaviour +of other characters or expressed in the meditations of the author. Even +if the author only means to tell us that human life is all like this, +she ought at least to let us know that she means it. _Gabrielle Brenda_ +is presented to us by ALICE BIRKHEAD as a girl brought up in the remoter +parts of Cornwall by a father who was a semi-retired doctor and +something of a dreamer. She develops dramatic talent, and having become +engaged to her instructor gives him up to her younger sister for no +better reason apparently than that she has always been accustomed to +give that sister everything she wants. Afterwards _Gabrielle_ becomes +the secretary of a domineering little manufacturer in the Black Country +with expensive sons and daughters. She resists his proposals of marriage +and also the temptation to purloin his eldest daughter's _fiancé_, and +then reverts to her original vocation, without finding on the stage +either satisfaction or any remarkable success. For I see no indication +that the offer of a fairly lucrative engagement in America, with which +the book ends, is regarded by the author as the golden moment of her +heroine's career. Altogether I am at a loss whether to learn from +_Shifting Sands_ the disadvantages of a haphazard education, the unfair +position of woman in the labour-market, or merely the irony of fate. And +this is a pity because, though the manner of the story is very episodic, +there are scenes and conversations of considerable vivacity and truth. + + * * * + +BARONESS ORCZY is to be congratulated on a distinctly ingenious idea. +Searching about her, no doubt, for a successor to the famous +_Pimpernel_, her attention was caught by a certain picture in the +WALLACE Collection, a picture everyone knows and admires for its +rollicking and adventurous high spirits. "Capital!" said she (as I +imagine it); "why not trace back the line of _Blakeney_, and make the +subject of this picture the ancestor from whom he inherited his +endearing qualities?" _The Laughing Cavalier_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) is +the result. Having thus divined the origin of the hero, I feel that any +further indication of his character would be almost superfluous. You +will certainly not find this new _Blakeney_ unworthy of his house. It is +perhaps something of a surprise to find him a mercenary in +seventeenth-century Holland; but the old touch is there. Thus, having +been hired by a gang of conspirators to abduct the sister of one of +them, who has overheard their plans for the slaying of the Stadtholder, +and keep her prisoner till the deed be done, what more _Blakeneyish_ +than that he should recognise in his captive the particular object of +his affections? or that, having abducted the girl according to +instructions received, he should presently be offered untold gold by her +distracted parent for her discovery and return. A faintly embarrassing +situation this, even for an ancestor of the elusive _Pimpernel_. How he +manages to turn it all to favour and romance you must allow Baroness +ORCZY to tell you herself. Incidentally, the appearance of the book at +this particular moment, and in spite (so the publishers inform me on a +slip) of the author's first resolve to postpone it, proves her to +possess something of the sporting spirit of her creation. Hero's luck to +them both! + + * * * + +A novelist creating a novelist-hero is on dangerous ground. If he be a +little less than perfectly sincere he runs risk of being pretentious, +fatuous even. But sincerity is just Mr. CHARLES MARRIOTT'S conspicuous +quality, and here in _The Unpetitioned Heavens_ (HUTCHINSON) it commands +a dexterous and fastidious workmanship. You'll find, if you read a scene +over again, that there's more, not less, in it than you thought. Mr. +MARRIOTT makes his characters alive by realisation of their subtleties +rather than of their obviousnesses, and that's a feat to which I doff my +beaver. The main theme, sensitively felt and developed, is a delicate +one--the love of a middle-aged woman for a man who is rapt in worship at +a distance of a younger woman, the other's friend. The manoeuvring of +the elder, which might easily have been vulgarised on the one hand or +devitalised on the other, just remains refreshingly and believably +human. Mr. MARRIOTT'S story is not a yarn, but a brocade of intricate +design and exquisite colouring. Let justice be done and _The +Unpetitioned Heavens_ fall to a wide circle of perceptive readers. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Amateur Constable_ (_Policeman's son_). "I ARREST YER ON +SUSPICION O' STEALIN' A RESERVOIR. ANY 'OLLERIN' 'LL BE TOOK DAHN AGIN +YER." + + * * * * * + +THE PATRIOT. + + "At Monday's meeting, Mr. H. H. Gibbs, J. P., the Chairman, + expressed the opinion that the town should not be so conspicuous at + night, as in the event of a Zeppelin raid Bognor might be mistaken + for Portsmouth."--_Southern Weekly News._ + +It would be small consolation to England, if Bognor Cinema Palace fell, +that Portsmouth Dockyard had been saved. + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +147, November 4, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, NOV 4, 1914 *** + +***** This file should be named 28470-8.txt or 28470-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/4/7/28470/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Neville Allen, +Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://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, November 4, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: April 1, 2009 [EBook #28470] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, NOV 4, 1914 *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Neville Allen, +Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>VOL. 147.</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>NOVEMBER 4, 1914.</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p>The <i>Fremdenblatt</i> of Hamburg congratulates itself that "the British +campaign of pin-pricks is fast coming to a miserable end." If the +reference is to bayonets, our contemporary is in error.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A Berlin news agency states that General <span class="sc">Leman</span>, of Liége, is actually a +German. It is characteristic of the Germans to bring an accusation like +that against a brave and innocent man in adversity.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The <i>Kölnische Volkszeitung</i> records the foundation of a "German Truth +Society." We are glad that it is realised over there at last that there +is a difference between Truth and German Truth.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It is semi-officially announced that the <span class="sc">Kaiser's</span> headquarters are now +in France. His hindquarters were recently seen in Russia.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A detachment of British cavalry, while playing water polo in the Oise, +suddenly spotted a patrol of German Uhlans, jumped on their horses +naked, and in that state charged the enemy. We understand that a protest +has been lodged at the War Office by the British Propriety League.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A motor wireless section in Scotland is searching for a mascot and +regimental pet, and a Glasgow newspaper invites its readers to supply a +suitable animal. What would be wrong with a wireless terrier?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Shortly before the outbreak of the war, it is said, the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> ordered a +Gloucester spotted pig in this country. Later on the shipment of the pig +was countermanded. Presumably sufficient pigs had already been spotted +in the German army.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A pretty tribute to our ability to keep our hair on in a crisis was paid +last week at the Bow County Court by an itinerant vendor of a hair +restorer. He informed the Court that since the war there had been no +demand for his goods.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A correspondent writes to <i>The Times</i> to object to the nickname +"Tommies" applied to our soldiers. "Thomases" would undoubtedly be more +respectful and dignified.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>An original production of <i>Everyman</i> is to be given at the Cathedral +Hall, Westminster, on the 12th, 13th and 14th instant, in aid of the +Actors' Benevolent Fund. We trust that Everyman will do his duty and +bring in a large sum for this admirable object.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The French authorities have seized ten race-horses stabled at St. +Symphorien, near Tours, which belonged to M. <span class="sc">Mumm</span>, of the famous +champagne firm, who is a German subject. Motto for those Germans who +were captured speechless in the neighbourhood of Rheims:—"Mumm's the +word!"</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>We note that there is a strong cast in <i>The Glad Eye</i> which has made its +appearance again.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Which reminds us that they are calling a certain cheery correspondent on +our Generalissimo's Staff "The Glad Eye Witness."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The latest news from South Africa would seem to show that Beyers are +sometimes sold.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/369.png"> +<img src="images/369.png" width="100%" alt="Not big enough! D' yer know 'oo I am?" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">"Not big enough! D'yer know 'oo I am? D'yer know foive +year ago I was champion light-weight of Wapping?"</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">"I've no doubt you're a good man; but, you see, you don't come up to the +required measurements, so I'm afraid that's the end of it."</span></p> +<p><span class="sc">"Oh, all right, then. Only, mind yer, if yer go an' lose this 'ere +war—well, don't blame <i>me</i>—that's all!"</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE FLASH-LIGHT THAT FAILED.</h2> + +<center>(<i>Lines suggested by a recent incident on the Firth of Forth.</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">There was a young alien in Fife</p> +<p class="i0">Who on spying was keen as a knife,</p> +<p class="i2">Till a sentry—good egg!—</p> +<p class="i2">Plugged him bang through the leg</p> +<p class="i0">And ruined his prospects for life.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Along the coast the French Fleet are now aiding the British +monitors, smashing the heavy buns rolled up to the coast by the +Germans."</p></blockquote> + +<p>In the heavy bun department we fear no rivals, and the Germans will soon +find that in more than one railway-station refreshment department they +will meet their Waterloo.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> + +<h2>TO A FALSE PATRIOT.</h2> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">He came obedient to the Call;</p> +<p class="i2">He might have shirked like half his mates</p> +<p class="i0">Who, while their comrades fight and fall,</p> +<p class="i2">Still go to swell the football gates.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">And you, a patriot in your prime,</p> +<p class="i2">You waved a flag above his head,</p> +<p class="i0">And hoped he'd have a high old time,</p> +<p class="i2">And slapped him on the back and said:</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"You'll show 'em what we British are!</p> +<p class="i2">Give us your hand, old pal, to shake;"</p> +<p class="i0">And took him round from bar to bar</p> +<p class="i2">And made him drunk—for England's sake.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">That's how you helped him. Yesterday,</p> +<p class="i2">Clear-eyed and earnest, keen and hard,</p> +<p class="i0">He held himself the soldier's way—</p> +<p class="i2">And now they've got him under guard.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">That doesn't hurt you; you're all right;</p> +<p class="i2">Your easy conscience takes no blame;</p> +<p class="i0">But he, poor boy, with morning's light,</p> +<p class="i2">He eats his heart out, sick with shame.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">What's that to you? You understand</p> +<p class="i2">Nothing of all his bitter pain;</p> +<p class="i0">You have no regiment to brand;</p> +<p class="i2">You have no uniform to stain;</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">No vow of service to abuse,</p> +<p class="i2">No pledge to <span class="sc">King</span> and country due;</p> +<p class="i0">But he had something dear to lose,</p> +<p class="i2">And he has lost it—thanks to you.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>UNWRITTEN LETTERS TO THE KAISER.</h2> + +<center>No. VI.</center> + +<center>(<i>From Professor <span class="sc">Hermann Müller</span>, Ph.D., Private in the ——th Regiment +of Prussian Infantry.</i>)</center> + +<p class="author"><i>Belgium.</i></p> + +<p>Your Majesty,—I am one of your Majesty's most loyal and most faithfully +devoted subjects, and, if I now write to you, it is not because I doubt +for one moment that you are inspired in all your actions by a clearer +wisdom and a firmer grasp of facts than any that I can pretend to, but +because there are certain questions which obstinately press upon me to +such an extent that I must relieve my mind of them.</p> + +<p>At the beginning I was a firm believer in the necessity of this war, and +in the perfect and not-to-be-shattered justice of our cause. I had read +all that there was to read: <span class="sc">Treitschke, Nietzsche, Bernhardi, Frobenius</span> +and a hundred others, from whose writings it can be most easily shown +that Germany alone among nations has the power and the will to expand +and to rule; that expansion and rule must be accomplished by war, which, +far from being a misfortune, is a noble object to be aimed at and not +avoided by statesmen; that all other nations are degenerate and must for +their own good be crushed by Germany; and that any nation which resists +Germany is through that very act an enemy of the human race. I also +believed that German culture is something different from and superior to +such culture (if it be worthy of the name) as is possessed by other +countries. All these beliefs I set out in my booklet entitled, "Der +Lorbeerkranz," which I humbly and with the most profound heart's +devotion dedicated to your august and glorious Majesty. Did you, I +wonder, deign to cast your Imperial eyes on this effort of my pen? How +well I remember obtaining my first copy of the book on the happy day +that saw its publication. It seemed printed in letters of gold, and, +filled with high yearnings and expectations, I took it home to my +beloved Anna. We read it aloud together, turn and turn about, with +laughter and applause and tears, for we saw therein the foundation of +fame.</p> + +<p>So, at the war's beginning, I shouted with the rest for my <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> and my +country, knowing that the war was just and that we should end by +annexing England's colonies, after destroying her armies and her ships, +and those of France and Russia into the bargain.</p> + +<p>Well, that is already, as it seems to me, a thousand years ago, and I +must admit that at that time I did not consider it possible that I +myself with all my weight of learning as well as my regulation knapsack +should be marching about, or lying in a trench on the plains of +Flanders, divided by a few hundred yards from English soldiers, who have +in their hands rifles and bayonets, and know how to use them. In the +intervals of firing, as we lie there, a man has time to think, and it is +wonderful how clear his ideas become in such conditions. Some of us do +not think or think only what they are told. Poor simple fellows, they +still believe they are even now at the gates of Paris, and that +to-morrow is the day appointed for the entrance; whereas I know that, +having been close to Paris in a mad rush, our armies have since +retreated day after day.</p> + +<p>But all this happened before I myself had to join the fight with the +older men. Now I know that the English and the French have much to say +for themselves, and, in any case, that it is plain nonsense—I beg Your +Majesty's pardon for using this word, but it is there and I will not +strike it out—it is plain nonsense to believe that the good God who has +made us all has had any interest in making our Germans out of better +clay than that which He has used for other men. I cannot even make an +exception in the case of your Imperial Majesty's own self. Thus do my +thoughts run in the trenches during this dreadful battle. What things +have I heard, what awful sights have I seen since I received my marching +orders! I think of Anna and of little Karl, and hope only that some day +I shall be far away from these scenes in a place where peace shall reign +and I can see them both again. But when will this be?</p> + +<p class="regards">With most humble respect,</p> +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Hermann Müller</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>"THE GREATER GAME."</h2> + +<p>This Cartoon, which deals with professional football and the War, and +appeared in the issue of <i>Punch</i> for October 21, has now been reprinted +in the form of Posters and Handbills. These will be gladly sent free of +charge, for the purpose of distribution or exhibition, to anyone +interested in recruiting among football players and the enormous crowds +that attend League Matches. Applications, stating the number required, +should be addressed to The Secretary, <i>Punch</i> Offices, 10, Bouverie +Street, E.C., who will gratefully acknowledge any contributions towards +the expense involved.</p> + +<p>"The Greater Game" is also being reproduced in the form of a Lantern +Slide for exhibition at Cinemas, etc.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Plaintiff, Mr. W. E. Brown, trading as Bre-...oEwenforOD.tonthr.s)cflandshrdlucmfwyptherton and Watt, +auctioneers, of Winton, claimed a sum of £4 13s. 6d."—<i>Bournemouth +Echo.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>In our "List of firms which must have a telegraphic address" Mr. <span class="sc">Brown</span> +takes a high place.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/371.png"> +<img src="images/371.png" width="100%" alt="FOREWARNED." /></a> +<h4>FOREWARNED.</h4> +<p><span class="sc">Zeppelin</span> (<i>as "The Fat Boy"</i>). "'I WANTS TO MAKE YOUR FLESH CREEP.'"</p> +<p><span class="sc">John Bull.</span> "RIGHT-O!"</p> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/373.png"> +<img src="images/373.png" width="100%" alt="just leaving for Egypt" /></a> +<p><i>Jim</i> (<i>just leaving for Egypt</i>). <span class="sc">"Well, good-bye, +mother; take care of yourself. I'll bring you a pyramid when I come back +home."</span></p> +<p><i>Mother.</i> <span class="sc">"Tha mun do nowt o' t' soort, lad. Tha munna get thysen i' any +trouble for me."</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ANOTHER INNOCENT VICTIM OF THE WAR.</h2> + +<p>Sir,—Will you grant me the hospitality of your columns for the exposure +of a grievance? The rest of the Press, which until recent mouths have +welcomed my communications, seem to have become indifferent to matters +affecting the health and comfort of the intellectual classes.</p> + +<p>I am a professional man. For the past five-and-twenty years, with only +one exception (the year following the Diamond Jubilee of the late <span class="sc">Queen +Victoria</span>), I have fallen a victim during the first days of November to +an attack of bronchial catarrh. In this distressing complaint, as you +may be aware, an early symptom is a fit of sneezing, with other manifest +discomfort which I need not here particularise.</p> + +<p>For the past twenty-five years (with the one exception to which I have +alluded) my first sneeze has been the signal for alarm among the +women-folk of my household. My elder sister goes quietly upstairs for +the bottle of ammoniated quinine; my younger sister explores the +recesses of a cupboard for the piece of red flannel to which I have been +accustomed; and Emily, the maid, without being instructed, puts the +kettle on the gas-stove. Any lady visitor there may be in the house is +ready with suggestions of alternative remedies, recalling numerous +interesting and instructive examples. Light and nourishing dishes are +prepared for my dinner; a hot-water bottle is placed in my bed; and in +the bedroom a fire is lit. I retire to rest at 9.30, and, having +disrobed and covered myself with an augmented supply of blankets, I am +brought a glass of hot milk by one of my sisters, who gently places my +dressing-gown round my shoulders while I drink it. Afterwards I lie down +to sleep, with the bell-push within reach. A tap at the door wakes me +next morning. "May I bring in a cup of tea, dear Septimus?" asks my +other sister. I am implored to remain in bed for the day, and swift +arrangements are made with the butcher, when he calls, to telephone a +message to the office. Emily refrains from singing while washing up, and +wears felt slippers during her duties about the house.</p> + +<p>Such, Sir, has been the routine attending this practically annual event +for the past five-and-twenty years. But I regret to inform you that a +secret and sinister change has been at work in our domestic relations. +The first sneeze of this year's attack took place last evening. My once +attentive sisters, immersed in wool and flannel of all shades, took no +notice; Miss Annistay, an old family friend, alone remarked upon my +condition, stating that colds were very prevalent, and adding somewhat +irrelevantly that it must be terrible in the trenches this weather. For +dinner I had nothing more sustaining than our customary fare, and when I +asked for hot milk at bedtime my sisters inquired, "Whatever for, +Septimus?" I sought my chamber, only to find, on enquiry, that my +dressing-gown, my extra blankets and my hot-water bottle had +disappeared—gone, I understand, to a local hospital. And, far from +remaining in bed to-day, I am writing this from my office, an +exceedingly draughty apartment.</p> + +<p class="regards">Yours cordially,</p> +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Septimus Coddell.</span></p> + +<p>P.S.—Of course I thoroughly approve of the idea that we must all make +sacrifices in time of war; but, as I tell my household, these sacrifices +should be personal and not vicarious.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span></p><hr /> + +<h2>OUR GUY.</h2> + +<p>We feel just a little hurt that the police have not prohibited our +village bonfire. Why shouldn't Zeppelins come to Little Pilswick? Why +should an arrogant metropolis monopolise everything? Still we hid our +mortification and the Guy Committee met as usual in the saloon bar of +the "Bull".</p> + +<p>In the first instance Prodgers moved that the celebration be dropped, +and that all material already collected be given to the Belgian +refugees. It was pointed out to him that a gift of two empty tar-barrels +and half-a-dozen furze bushes, though meant in all kindness, might prove +embarrassing to any relief committee. Besides, we are happy in the +entertainment of two Belgian families, and the feeling was that the +sight of an uncultured fire would cheer them. So Prodgers was +temporarily crushed. Then came the all-important question of the guy.</p> + +<p>Mr. Flodden, the landlord, began the discussion. "Last year we'd <span class="sc">Lloyd +George</span>, but we can't have no politics now, though he's—well, I wish I +could tell him what he is. Year before we'd the Squire for stopping up +that footpath, but he's in the Yeomanry now, so he's barred."</p> + +<p>"The <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>!" cried Jenkins. "Have him with mailed fists holding up a +torn scrap of paper."</p> + +<p>"No, the <span class="sc">Crown Prince</span>," suggested Webb. "Everyone would know him if we +put a silver spoon in each hand and hung a silver coffee-pot round his +neck."</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">De Wet</span>," proposed Cobb.</p> + +<p>"Had him twelve year or more ago," said the landlord. "<span class="sc">De Wet's</span> off."</p> + +<p>A fierce controversy now ensued between partisans of the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> and the +<span class="sc">Crown Prince</span>. Prodgers argued ably that it was much worse to destroy a +cathedral than to steal plate; whilst Unwin, the jobbing builder, +declared that the damaging of a cathedral gave work to a very deserving +class of men, and said he would very much rather see the parish +church-tower knocked down than the Vicar's spoons stolen. At last +feeling ran so high it was decided to put the matter to the vote. Five +voted for the light-headed <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>, five for his light-fingered heir. All +eyes turned on the landlord to see which way his casting vote would go.</p> + +<p>"Friends all," said. Mr. Flodden, "we've kep' ourselves respectable in +this village. Even our guys have been respectable, though, mind you, +that <span class="sc">Lloyd George</span>—well, if it wasn't wartime, I'd say he come precious +near the line. Now what's the good of us letting ourselves down to burn +these 'Uns? What about old <span class="sc">Guy Fawkes</span>? I grant you he wanted to blow up +the 'Ouses of Parliament; but, if there was licensing bills in those +days, I don't blame him. I say stick to old <span class="sc">Guy</span> and be respectable."</p> + +<p>It was carried unanimously.</p> + +<p>Somewhere in his rush from theatre to theatre of the war a message will +reach the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>. The hatred of a world may flatter him, but the cold, +chilling contempt of Little Pilswick will pierce to his very heart.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/374.png"> +<img src="images/374.png" width="100%" alt="Obvious embarrassment of Little Binks" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">Obvious embarrassment of Little Binks, who has injured +his hand in the peaceful occupation of picture-hanging, at being +mistaken for a wounded hero.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE REPORT FALLACIOUS.</h2> + +<p>I have a son, William. But there are compensations; he is at school.</p> + +<p>It was at the crisis of parting at the station that it seemed to me +necessary to give William a word of parental advice. I hate seeing small +boys at such moments stuffing themselves in refreshment-rooms.</p> + +<p>"William," I said, "life is not all cricket and football."</p> + +<p>"No, father" replied William, looking hard at the refreshment-room, +"there's golf."</p> + +<p>"That, William, is scarcely a game. I should describe it in my own case +as an exercise taken under medical advice, to obtain relief from +business strain."</p> + +<p>"Father," burst out William, "there's Cheffins minor in the +refreshment-room."</p> + +<p>"William," I proceeded, "at the end of each term I receive an +unsatisfactory report about you from your house-master. It is only then +that I know you have wasted three months of golden time." ("Golden time" +was a happy inspiration.)</p> + +<p>"Old Starks is a rotter," said William briefly.</p> + +<p>"Now I put you on your honour, William, to send me a truthful report of +your progress at the half-term. Then if you are not doing well I can +write and ask that you should have special attention. On your honour, +mind."</p> + +<p>"Yes, father. Shall we go across to the refreshment-room now?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, certainly," I said, noticing a signal drop. "Oh, no; here's +your train coming in."</p> + +<p>Then having done my duty I forgot all about the promised report. It +arrived unexpectedly this morning. He had framed it precisely on the +model of his house-master's reports:—</p> + +<p><i>Position in Form.</i> First.</p> + +<p><i>Progress.</i> Very marked; decidedly more attentive and industrious.</p> + +<p><i>Latin.</i> A distinct improvement in versification. Translates easily and +intelligently.</p> + +<p><i>Greek.</i> Displays remarkable promise.</p> + +<p>("Of course it won't be much use to him in my leather business," I said +to my wife; "still it shows grit.")</p> + +<p><i>Mathematics.</i> Again marked progress is to be recorded.</p> + +<p><i>Conduct.</i> Courteous, orderly, obedient. A good influence in the house.</p> + +<p><i>General Remarks.</i> Will achieve a high position in the school, but must +take care that too close absorption in study does not interfere with his +athletic development.</p> + +<p>"Most gratifying," I said to my wife. "I just put the boy on his honour. +I don't believe in lecturing boys. Ah, what's this at the bottom?"</p> + +<p>I read with horror the foot-note, "<i>Per</i> Wireless from Berlin."</p> + +<p>I am a parent, so I instructed my wife to write a letter saying how much +I was pained by William's frivolity. I am a patriot, so, without her +knowledge, I slipped a postal order for ten shillings into the envelope.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>We hear there is no truth in the report that Mr. <span class="sc">James Welch</span> intends +renaming his successful farce (now moved to the New Theatre) "When +Nights Were Dark."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span></p><hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/375.png"> +<img src="images/375.png" width="100%" alt="Visitor leaving inn after sleepless night." /></a> +<p><i>Visitor</i> (<i>leaving inn after sleepless night</i>). "<span class="sc">I suppose you don't +happen to be a German?</span>"</p> +<p><i>Landlord.</i> "<span class="sc">Do I look like it?</span>"</p> +<p><i>Visitor.</i> "<span class="sc">No; but I thought I'd just ask because my room last night +had a concrete bed in it.</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE GREAT PETARD.</h2> + +<center>(<i>Being some further reliable information about the enormous siege gun +which is to shell us from Calais.</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">This is the tale of the Master Hun</p> +<p class="i2">And how, on thinking it over,</p> +<p class="i0">He bade his henchmen build him a gun</p> +<p class="i0">With a belly as huge as the Heidelberg Tun</p> +<p class="i2">To batter the cliffs of Dover.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">See how the Uhlans' lances toss!</p> +<p class="i2">As a mother her child they love it;</p> +<p class="i0">Guarding it well from scathe and loss</p> +<p class="i0">They have stamped its side with a big Red Cross,</p> +<p class="i2">And the white flag waves above it.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">First it was cast in Essen town;</p> +<p class="i2">Junkers in gay apparel</p> +<p class="i0">Flocked to sample its high renown,</p> +<p class="i0">And a dozen or more, they say, sat down</p> +<p class="i2">To dinner inside its barrel.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Fair and free did the Rhine wine flow</p> +<p class="i2">Till the face of every glutton</p> +<p class="i0">Shone with a patriot's after-glow,</p> +<p class="i0">And then they retired a mile or so</p> +<p class="i2">And the <span class="sc">War Lord</span> pressed the button.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><i>Hoch!</i> The howitzer stood the test,</p> +<p class="i2">Belching like fifty craters,</p> +<p class="i0">And (this is perhaps the cream of the jest)</p> +<p class="i0">There was more than metal inside its chest,</p> +<p class="i2">For they hadn't removed the waiters.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Now it has come on armoured trains</p> +<p class="i2">To the further side of the Channel;</p> +<p class="i0">Prayers are said in a hundred fanes</p> +<p class="i0">For its godlike soul, and whenever it rains</p> +<p class="i2">They muffle its throat with flannel.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Strange indeed is the cry of its shells,</p> +<p class="i2">Like a pack of hounds in full wail,</p> +<p class="i0">Like the roar of a mountain stream that swells</p> +<p class="i0">Or like anything else from a peal of bells</p> +<p class="i2">To the bark of a wounded bull-whale.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">But the worst of it is that when—and if—</p> +<p class="i2">It begins its work of slaughter</p> +<p class="i0">It will possibly harm the Kentish cliff,</p> +<p class="i0">But it's perfectly certain to go and biff</p> +<p class="i2">The French one into the water.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">So when you shall hear a noise on high</p> +<p class="i2">Like the medium brush of a barber,</p> +<p class="i0">And a monstrous bullet falls from the sky</p> +<p class="i0">And blows off the head of a Prussian spy</p> +<p class="i2">As he dallies in Dover Harbour,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">You shall know that at last the <span class="sc">War Lord's</span> host,</p> +<p class="i2">By dint of a stout endeavour,</p> +<p class="i0">Have chipped off a bit of the Calais coast</p> +<p class="i0">And caused the isle that they pant for most</p> +<p class="i2">To be further away than ever.</p> +</div></div> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Evoe.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> + +<h2>THE PEACE CIGAR.</h2> + +<p>"By the way, Lorna was there this morning," said Celia. "Her brother's +in the War Office."</p> + +<p>"And what did <span class="sc">Kitchener</span> tell him when they last had lunch together?" I +asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," smiled Celia, "he does say that——"</p> + +<p>I get all my best news from Celia nowadays. When I meet you in the City +and mention that I know for a fact that the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> is in hiding at +Liverpool, you may be sure that Celia saw Vera yesterday morning, and +that Vera's uncle is somebody important on the Liverpool Defence +Committee.</p> + +<p>Twice a week Celia ties up parcels for the Fleet. Ordinary people +provide the blankets, sea-boots, chocolate, periscopes and so forth; +Celia looks after the brown paper and string, which always seems to me +the most tricky part. There are a dozen of them, all working together; +and you can imagine (or, anyhow, <i>I</i> can) Vera or Kitty or Isobel, her +mouth full of knot, gossiping away about her highly-placed relations, +while Beryl or Evelyn or Lorna looks up from the parcel she is kneeling +on and interrupts, "Well, my <i>brother</i> heard——I say, where did you +put my scissors?"</p> + +<p>"Well," smiled Celia, "Lorna's brother in the War Office says the war +will be over by Christmas."</p> + +<p>"Hooray," I said; and I went out and looked at my cigar.</p> + +<p>This cigar arrived at my house in a case of samples last July. The +samples went up from right to left in order of importance, each in his +own little bed—until you got to Torpedo Jimmy at the end, who had a +double bed to himself. Starting with <i>Cabajo fino</i> in the right-hand +corner, the prices ranged from about nine a penny to five pounds apiece, +the latter being the approximate charge for T. James or any of his +brethren.</p> + +<p>Celia was looking over my shoulder when I opened the case, and she +surveyed my brown friends with interest.</p> + +<p>"When are you going to smoke <i>that</i> one?" she asked, touching Torpedo +Jimmy's cummerbund with the tip of her finger.</p> + +<p>"On your birthday," I said.</p> + +<p>"Bother, then I shan't see much of you. Couldn't you smoke it on two +ordinary days instead?"</p> + +<p>"You can only smoke a cigar that size after a very good dinner," I +explained.</p> + +<p>"What was the matter with the tapioca pudding last night?" said Celia +sternly.</p> + +<p>"I mean you must have champagne and bands and lots of lights, and +managers bowing all round you, and pretty people in the distance, +and—all that sort of thing. You can't do that at home. Besides, I shall +want a waiter or two to hold the far end of it while I'm smoking. It'll +be all right going there; we can put it on the top of a cab."</p> + +<p>"Of course it will be lovely going out with you," said Celia, "but Jane +will be very disappointed. She'd have liked to hear it buzzing."</p> + +<p>"I hope it won't buzz," I said.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you smoke it now, and then we'd go out next week and celebrate +your recovery." She sighed. "My birthday's a long way off," she said +wistfully, thinking of the band and the lights and the pretty people in +the distance—and not necessarily in the distance either.</p> + +<p>"Well, p'raps we'll think of another excuse. Anyhow it will be a very +great day, and if I survive we shall often look back upon it."</p> + +<p>Celia stroked it again.</p> + +<p>"It's just like a torpedo, isn't it?" she said. And so we called it +Torpedo Jimmy. A torpedo is actually a little bit bigger. Not much, +however.</p> + +<p>That was July. When August came we knew that there would be no excuse +before the birthday and that the birthday would be no excuse. The great +dinner was postponed. It didn't matter, because we forgot about the +great dinner.</p> + +<p>But towards the end of September Celia came across the sample case +again. All the beds were empty now but one. Torpedo James still lay in +his four-poster, brown and inscrutable.</p> + +<p>"Better put him away," she said, "and on the day that peace is signed +you can take us both out."</p> + +<p>And so Torpedo Jimmy became a symbol. The more I long for peace, the +more I long for that historic smoke. When Louisa's brother or Nora's +uncle has a long pessimistic talk with <span class="sc">Kitchener</span>, then I look sadly at +my cigar; but when <span class="sc">French</span> and <span class="sc">Joffre</span> unbend to Vera's stepfather or +Beryl's cousin and give him words of cheer, then I take it out and pinch +it fondly, and already I see the waiter coming round with a torch to +light it.</p> + +<p>I have been looking at it to-day, and I see that it is giving a little +at one end. I fancy that the moth has been getting at it. Well, if it +does not last till peace is signed, it will be a peace that I shall not +believe in. For a stable peace, as all our eminent novelists keep +pointing out in all the papers, many things are necessary, and one of +them is that I should smoke my cigar happily on the first night of it. +Torpedo Jimmy must do himself justice. No premature explosions; no moths +flying out from the middle of it; no unauthorised ventilation. The exact +moment must be chosen by the Allies. My cigar must be ripe ... and yet +not too ripe.</p> + +<p>Celia says she is sure it will be just lovely. So sure is she that she +suggests hanging the cigar in the hall and tapping it to see how the war +is going. "When it taps exactly right, then we shall know the war is +just over."</p> + +<p>But I think we shall know that anyhow. <span class="sc">Edward Grey</span> will break it to +Beryl's nephew all right; Celia will climb down off her parcel and rush +home to me with the news; I shall ring up the restaurant and order +dinner ... and at eight o'clock, in great spirits, we shall get into our +taxi and drive off together—Celia and I and Torpedo Jimmy.</p> + +<p class="author">A. A. M.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>SOME FACTS ABOUT THE WAR</h2> + +<center>(<i>An essay in the prevailing mode</i>).</center> + +<p>The actual cost of hostilities has been estimated by reliable +authorities at the enormous sum of £143,468 0<i>s.</i> 0-½<i>d.</i> <i>per diem</i> +for this country alone. The odd halfpenny presumably represents the cost +of an evening edition bought by the official contradictor in the +exercise of his duties.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Amongst the (more or less) skilled industries that have been gravely +affected by the outbreak of hostilities must now be placed the making of +prophetic fiction. It is calculated that the number of novels dealing +with <i>The Next Great War</i> that have had to be scrapped must run well +into four figures.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>On the other hand, the number of novelists who will in the future begin +their Historical Romances, "It was in the late summer of 1914," is +beyond human calculation.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>In view of the reported insurance of Westminster Abbey against damage by +air-craft, a correspondent asks what steps are being taken towards the +illumination of the Albert Memorial.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It is at least odd that Olympia should have been selected as the Ideal +Home for our Undesirable Aliens. The last German production in the same +building was <i>The Miracle</i>. Many of the interned are said to be +expecting another.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Mrs. Mallaby Deeley is doing good work in securing withers for +horses."</p> + +<p class="author"><i>Harrow Observer.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>And now every horse which goes to the Front can be certain of having its +own withers.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/377.png"> +<img src="images/377.png" width="100%" alt="It'll make a target for the Germans!"" /></a> +<p><i>First Lady</i> (<i>horrified at bright scarlet muffler for +Navy, the creation of second lady</i>). <span class="sc">"My dear—the colour! It'll make a +target for the Germans!"</span></p> +<p><i>Second Lady.</i> <span class="sc">"Oh! then it'll have to do for the stoker."</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE LADY'S WALK.</h2> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">I know a Manor by the Thames;</p> +<p class="i0">I've seen it oft through beechen stems</p> +<p class="i2">In leafy Summer weather;</p> +<p class="i0">We've moored the punt its lawns beside</p> +<p class="i0">Where peacocks strut in flaunting pride,</p> +<p class="i2">The Muse and I together.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">There I have seen the shadows grow</p> +<p class="i0">Gigantic, as the sun sinks low,</p> +<p class="i2">Leaving forlorn the dial;</p> +<p class="i0">When zephyrs in the borders stir,</p> +<p class="i0">Distilling stock and lavender</p> +<p class="i2">To fill some fairy's phial.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">There, when the dusk joins hands with night,</p> +<p class="i0">(I like to think the story's right—</p> +<p class="i2">I had it from the Rector—</p> +<p class="i0">Still, don't believe unless you choose!)</p> +<p class="i0">Doth walk, between the shapen yews,</p> +<p class="i2">A little pretty spectre,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">The Lady Rose, a well-born maid</p> +<p class="i0">Whose true-love in this garden glade—</p> +<p class="i2">A bold, if faithless, fellow—</p> +<p class="i0">Had loved, but left her for the sake</p> +<p class="i0">Of venturing with <span class="sc">Frankie Drake</span>,</p> +<p class="i2">And died at Puerto Bello;</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">While she—poor foolish loving Rose—</p> +<p class="i0">Of heart-break, so the story goes,</p> +<p class="i2">Died very shortly after,</p> +<p class="i0">One day—as Art requires—when Spring</p> +<p class="i0">Had set the hawthorns blossoming</p> +<p class="i2">And waked the lanes to laughter.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">And so adown these alleys dim,</p> +<p class="i0">Where oft she'd kept a tryst with him,</p> +<p class="i2">She nightly comes a-roaming;</p> +<p class="i0">And, sorrowing still, yet finds content,</p> +<p class="i0">I fancy, where "Sweet Themmes" is blent</p> +<p class="i2">With flower-beds and the gloaming.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Ah me, the leaf is down to-day;</p> +<p class="i0">Does still the little phantom stray,</p> +<p class="i2">Poor pretty ghost, a-shiver,</p> +<p class="i0">When sad flowers droop their weary heads</p> +<p class="i0">Along the chill Autumnal beds</p> +<p class="i2">Beside the misty river?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Or does it, at the year's decline—</p> +<p class="i0">As sensible as Proserpine—</p> +<p class="i2">When Autumn skies do harden,</p> +<p class="i0">Go down and coax the seeds to grow</p> +<p class="i0">Till daffodillies stand a-row</p> +<p class="i2">And April's in the garden?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">I cannot tell; what's more, I doubt</p> +<p class="i0">We've other things to think about</p> +<p class="i2">This sorrowful November;</p> +<p class="i0">I only know for such sad hours</p> +<p class="i0">That dainty ghosts and Summer flowers</p> +<p class="i2">Are pleasant to remember.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>The Absolute Limit.</h4> + +<blockquote><p>"The directors of the Bradford Club have reviewed the position in +regard to the free admission of soldiers to the ground, the number +of men thus admitted having been far greater than was anticipated. +It has now been decided that men in uniform or bearing other +credentials of service shall be admitted to section E on payment of +the nominal sum of 3d. This will prevent the jostling of the +ordinary patrons."—<i>Bradford Daily Telegraph.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>A cruiser here and there may be sunk, a regiment here and there may be +cut up, but thank God our Bradford football patrons will never again be +jostled by any of these vulgar soldiers in uniform.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Notice in a Battersea window:—</h4> + +<center><span class="sc">"Bride Cakes<br /> +any size<br /> +to suit all pockets."</span><br /><br /> +In these days of narrow skirts most women will find the guinea size +sufficient.</center> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/378.png"> +<img src="images/378.png" width="100%" alt="FACTS FROM THE FRONT" /></a> +<h4>FACTS FROM THE FRONT.</h4> +<p><span class="sc">Tactical use, by the enemy, of the more resilient units of the Landsturm +for negotiating Belgian dykes.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR LITERARY WAR LORDS.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>["The other day the enemy's artillery fire on my battery was so +great that we were forced to take cover. I sat crouched in my +'funk-hole' for seventeen solid hours. Luckily I had Jacobs's 'Sea +Urchins' with me, which I read to the accompaniment of screaming and +bursting shells."]</p></blockquote> + +<p class="author"><i>Officer in the Royal Field Artillery.</i></p> + +<p><i>Mr. Punch</i>, while remarking that he is not surprised that the shells +screamed in the circumstances, begs to assure his readers that, if the +following information corresponds with the facts, Mr. Jacobs is not the +only author who has been solacing our troops in the trenches.</p> + +<p>Miss Carrie Morelli writes: "There has so far been no public mention of +any books of mine being read in the trenches and affording solace to our +gallant troops. This, however, is because all the reports from the Front +come from men, and men are notoriously jealous of feminine activity in +literature as elsewhere. I have no doubt in my own mind that many a +soldier in action has been cheered by hurried glances at my novels, a +list of which can be forwarded on application."</p> + +<p>An unsigned letter from the Isle of Man states that the writer, who +rightly wishes to remain anonymous, possesses a copy of a novel of +astonishing genius, in which a German bullet is embedded. This book, it +seems, was the inseparable companion of a soldier in the 3rd Manx +Highlanders, who carried it always next his heart, and in its position +in that intimate and honoured spot it saved his life. The writer, who +confesses to being the author of the novel in question, states that he +would divulge both his own name and that of the title of the book but +that his objection to publicity amounts to a mania.</p> + +<p>The publishers of <i>The Orangery</i>, by Mrs. Markley, write to inform us of +an astounding incident which throws a new and sensational light on the +campaign in the Western Theatre of War. It appears that at a critical +moment during the great effort of the Germans to break through the left +flank of the Allies, General <span class="sc">von Kluck</span> absolutely refused to see or +consult with his Staff for the space of three hours. It subsequently +transpired that a copy of <i>The Orangery</i>, which had been found in the +knapsack of a British prisoner, had come into the General's possession +and so absolutely enthralled him that he abandoned all thought of +strategy or tactics until he had finished its perusal. Owing to the +extraordinary power of Mrs. Markley's genius the German advance was +paralysed, and the Allies, resuming the offensive, drove the enemy back +in confusion, with results which have vitally affected the progress of +the campaign.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Arnold Bennett</span> has just received a remarkable letter from a British +marine who was recently landed on the coast of Flanders. The writer +describes how, as he was reading one of Mr. <span class="sc">Bennett's</span> recent articles on +the war in a carefully excavated trench, a "Jack Johnson" shell +descended directly over him, but was suddenly diverted by the article, +and soared away at right angles, bursting with a terrific chuckle at a +safe distance.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Latest War News.</h4> + +<p>Turkey has now joined the "Sossidges"—a trifle earlier in the year than +usual.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>We understand that Pietermaritzburg will shortly change its name to +Petrobothagrad.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/379.png"> +<img src="images/379.png" width="100%" alt="THE EXCURSIONIST." /></a> +<h4>THE EXCURSIONIST.</h4> +<center><i>Scene</i>: <span class="sc">Ticket Office at</span> —— (<i>censored</i>).</center><br /> +<table summary="THE EXCURSIONIST"> +<tr><td><span class="sc">Tripper Wilhelm</span>. "FIRST CLASS TO PARIS."</td><td><span class="sc">Clerk</span>. "LINE BLOCKED."</td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>. "THEN MAKE IT WARSAW."</td><td><span class="sc">Clerk</span>. "LINE BLOCKED."</td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>. "WELL, WHAT ABOUT CALAIS?" </td><td><span class="sc">Clerk</span>. "LINE BLOCKED."</td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>. "HANG IT! I <i>MUST</i> GO <i>SOMEWHERE</i>!<br /> I PROMISED MY PEOPLE I WOULD."</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> + +<h2>BRITAIN TO BELGIUM.</h2> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Sister, for the tears that thou hast shed,</p> +<p class="i0">Sister, for thy dear undying dead,</p> +<p class="i0">For the sons thou hast not grudged to give,</p> +<p class="i0">Loyally, that Liberty might live;</p> +<p class="i0">Sister, for the little child</p> +<p class="i0">Dead beside a hearth defiled—</p> +<p class="i0">Do I dream my love alone</p> +<p class="i8">Can atone?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Can I bring again the brave that fell</p> +<p class="i0">When thy heaven crumbled into hell?</p> +<p class="i0">Can I banish from before thine eyes</p> +<p class="i0">Haunting visions under haggard skies?</p> +<p class="i0">Blazing home and blackened plain,</p> +<p class="i0">Can I make them fair again?</p> +<p class="i0">Can I ever heal thy smart,</p> +<p class="i8">Broken Heart?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Sister, we be women, thou and I;</p> +<p class="i0">Sorrow's craving who can satisfy?</p> +<p class="i0">None may pay thee back so dear a loss,</p> +<p class="i0">Only let me help to bear thy cross.</p> +<p class="i0">Sick and hungry in their need</p> +<p class="i0">Let me succour, let me feed;</p> +<p class="i0">Little Sister, freely take</p> +<p class="i8">For their sake.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/381.png"> +<img src="images/381.png" width="100%" alt="He's as willing as a Christian" /></a><br /><br /> +<p>"'<span class="sc">He's as willing as a Christian; strike me blind if he +isn't,' said Sikes</span>."</p><br /> +<p><i>Oliver Twist</i>, Chap. xvi.</p><br /> +<p>(<i>With apologies to the late Fred Barnard.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>AS OTHERS WISH TO SEE US.</h2> + +<p>The ingenious German device of writing private letters to English +friends filled with German justifications of the War and news of the +gaiety and normal prosperity of Berlin is now being carried farther, and +extracts from private letters purporting to be addressed by English +people to German friends have begun to be printed in the Berlin papers. +Here follows an illustration of this type of composition:—</p> + +<p>My Dear Friend,—I am sure you will like to hear from me, especially as +I am in a position to enlighten you as to the deplorable condition of +things in England under the fear of the Mailed Fist and forebodings of +the worst. For it is only too true that all the best and most +knowledgable people here have thrown up the sponge and are prepared for +the inevitable.</p> + +<p>A private letter is probably the only means of communicating the real +situation to you, for the English papers of course do not tell the +truth. In fact you must believe nothing they say, for there is a great +conspiracy here to maintain the fiction that we are high-spirited, eager +and confident. Everything is done to foster that illusion.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Bernhardi's</span> great book has been translated and is being largely sold, +and it is awful to watch the faces of the people reading it—how they +blanch and quiver. It is curious, you might think, that they read it at +all; but you know the dread fascination of the snake for the +humming-bird. The bird sees its doom, but cannot escape, and in fact +draws nearer.</p> + +<p>Would you believe it of this nation, so famous for its phlegm, that at +the outset of the war there was such a panic among our intellectuals +that they could not write prose at all, but all the papers were full of +rhyme? As you know, there is no sign of hysteria more trustworthy than +this.</p> + +<p>You may have heard that recruiting has been brisk and keen, but do not +believe this. Only by huge bribes have men been induced to join at all. +The finances of the country are being taxed to the utmost to find the +extra "palm-oil" which these mercenaries demand.</p> + +<p>The Birmingham factories are feverishly busy making dum-dum and +explosive bullets.</p> + +<p>You may have gathered from the papers that football goes on as usual. +This is so, outwardly, but as a matter of fact the games are played with +no spirit and are kept going wholly by force applied by the Government, +whose aim is thus to suggest a feeling of security in the country. A few +misguided people, who completely misunderstand the situation, hold that +footballers should go to the Front and fight; but the Government take a +more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> prudent view and will not allow this, holding that their agility +on the field in League Matches and so forth is of high service as an +anodyne and distraction. I have heard of more than one case of a +well-known herculean player, accustomed not only to big money but +applause and hero-worship, seriously wondering if fighting were not his +real duty and if he ought not to make a bolt for the Front, but being +compelled to acquiesce in the Government's plans and go on drawing his +salary for the public pursuit of an air-bladder. This shows you to what +a pass things have come.</p> + +<p>There are also hundreds of young actors in London alone who are being +forcibly kept in the country to go on entertaining and playing the fool +for the same sedative purpose. These youths are all healthy and fit, but +it is held that their true function is to work in the theatres and halls +to beguile the audiences and divert their thoughts from the terrible +reality of German invasion. With each step that the Germans draw nearer +the mummers redouble their efforts to excite laughter. Thus did <span class="sc">Nero</span> +fiddle.</p> + +<p>The terror produced by your nerve-racking Zeppelins is constant. Hardly +a soul is now to be seen in the streets of London. Everyone is below the +earth, in the Tubes and subways, which are packed by white and trembling +crowds. Every cellar is congested, the top floors having been wholly +abandoned. As a sign of the times I may tell you that a Company, called +the Aerated Dread Co., has been formed to provide iron suits for those +who can afford them, and on the Board of Directors are both the <span class="sc">Prime +Minister</span> and Sir <span class="sc">Edward Grey</span>. So awful is the agitation from which +everyone here is suffering under the Zeppelin menace that the noise of a +tyre bursting in the street often prostrates as many as forty +passers-by.</p> + +<p>No more to-day, my friend. I will write again soon and add to the +melancholy picture of a once powerful nation shuddering with craven +fears.</p> + +<p class="regards">Give my love to your dear children.</p> + +<p class="author">Your devoted K—— L——.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"On the sea dyke the Germans have posted heavy artillery.... They +have also posted gunes in the dunes."—<i>South Wales Echo.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>This settles us. We shall now begin our War Poem.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/382.png"> +<img src="images/382.png" width="100%" alt="FROM THE RECRUIT'S POINT OF VIEW." /></a> +<h4>FROM THE RECRUIT'S POINT OF VIEW.</h4> +<table summary="FROM THE RECRUIT'S POINT OF VIEW"> +<tr><td><i>Sergeant</i>. "<span class="sc">Form Fours</span>!"</td><td> "<span class="sc">As you were! Form Fours</span>!!"</td><td> "<i>As you were!!</i> <span class="sc">Form Fours</span>!!!"</td><td> "***!!! *****!!!!"</td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ARCHIBONG.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>[Encouraged by the example of some eminent followers of <span class="sc">Tyrtæus</span>, +<i>Mr. Punch</i> has great pleasure in printing the following topical +soldiers' song, composed by one of his young men after reading about +a British force that seized Archibong in the Cameroons.]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">O we're marching on to good old Archibong;</p> +<p class="i0">And we're going most particularly strong;</p> +<p class="i6">For our beef is really "bully,"</p> +<p class="i6">And they feed us very fully—</p> +<p class="i0">Yes, the feeding's fit for any restaurong,</p> +<p class="i10"><i>Très bong</i>,</p> +<p class="i0">Fit for any fust-class London restaurong.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">What's the matter with the road to Archibong?</p> +<p class="i0">We didn't come out here to play ping-pong</p> +<p class="i6">Or to get up a gymkhana—</p> +<p class="i6">But we'll all have a banana</p> +<p class="i0">When we've driven back the Proosians to Hong Kong,</p> +<p class="i10">Ding-dong,</p> +<p class="i0">When we've driven back the Proosians to Hong Kong.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">What's the matter with the town of Archibong?</p> +<p class="i0">It isn't quite as lively as Boulong;</p> +<p class="i6">But the name is very tuneful—</p> +<p class="i6">Yes, I'll have another spoonful,</p> +<p class="i0">For I never liked my soda-water strong;</p> +<p class="i10">It's wrong</p> +<p class="i0">For a man to drink his soda-water strong.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Then here's a parting cheer to Archibong,</p> +<p class="i0">Where the natives play divinely on the gong;</p> +<p class="i6">It's not so cool and airy</p> +<p class="i6">As the town of Tipperary,</p> +<p class="i0">But it's just as good for tittuping along</p> +<p class="i10">In a song,</p> +<p class="i0">It's just as good for tittuping along.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Scalped.</h4> + +<p>From Battalion Orders of a certain regiment:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"The Brigadier-General regrets that the 5th are noticeable +throughout the brigade for the long, slovenly and unkempt condition +of men's hair. The Commanding Officer considers that this reflects +on the credit of the battalion and directs Company Commanders to +take immediate steps to have this slight removed for good and all."</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<h4>What's in a Hyphen?</h4> + +<p>From a cinema advertisement:—</p> +<center>"THE TWO-STEP CHILDREN (<span class="sc">Drama</span>)."</center> +<p>It sounds rather more like Musical Comedy.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p>"Between them the vessels of the Allies succeeded in destroying a +German battery of field artillery, dispersed a German bridging train +collected to force the passage of the Yser, blew up an ammunition +column, killed General von Tripp, expressed pleasure at the Russians +winning in Galicia, and even regarded it as compensation for his +wound."—<i>Aberdeen Free Press.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Is there anything the Fleet <i>can't</i> do?</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> + +<h2>LITTLE AND GOOD.</h2> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Young Thompson was a bit too short,</p> +<p class="i2">But hard as nails and level-headed,</p> +<p class="i0">And in his soul the proper sort</p> +<p class="i2">Of dogged pluck was deeply bedded;</p> +<p class="i0">To join the ranks he almost ran,</p> +<p class="i2">But saw the weedy supersede him;</p> +<p class="i0">Though he was every inch a man,</p> +<p class="i2">His country didn't need him.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">He read each passionate appeal</p> +<p class="i2">On wall and window, cab and cart;</p> +<p class="i0">How impotent they made him feel!</p> +<p class="i2">He tried once more, though sick at heart.</p> +<p class="i0">In vain! He saw the sergeants smirk;</p> +<p class="i2">He argued, but they wouldn't heed him;</p> +<p class="i0">So sullenly trudged back to work—</p> +<p class="i2">His country didn't need him.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">But, now the standard height's curtailed,</p> +<p class="i2">Again he goes to join the ranks;</p> +<p class="i0">Though yesterday he tried and failed</p> +<p class="i2">To-day they welcome him with thanks.</p> +<p class="i0">Apparently he's just as small,</p> +<p class="i2">But, since his size no more impedes him,</p> +<p class="i0">In spirit he is six foot tall—</p> +<p class="i2">Because his country needs him.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/383.png"> +<img src="images/383.png" width="100%" alt="T. B. D." /></a><br /><br /> +<h4> T. B. D.</h4> +<p><i>Officer's Steward.</i> "<span class="sc">Will you take your bath, Sir, before or after +haction</span>?"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE MYSTERY OF PRINCE ——.</h2> + +<center>We seek information of the present whereabouts of Prince —— of ——.</center> + +<p>Some few weeks ago the news came that he was carried wounded into a +Brussels hospital, with a velvet mask over his face, so that none might +recognise him. The <span class="sc">Prince</span> was visited in hospital by a tall man, also +heavily masked, but not so heavily as to conceal a pair of soaring +moustaches, freshly waxed. None dared speculate as to Who this Visitor +might be. The hush was tremendous. The Visitor silently pinned on the +patient a specimen of the Iron Cross and as silently left.</p> + +<p>It was the 37000th Iron Cross bestowed since the outbreak of war.</p> + +<p>At the autopsy it was proved conclusively that the bullet inside the +<span class="sc">Prince</span> was of German origin.</p> + +<p>After the post-mortem the <span class="sc">Prince</span> was luckily captured by the Belgians, +and held at Antwerp as hostage for the good behaviour of the German +troops occupying Brussels.</p> + +<p>When the fall of Antwerp became imminent the <span class="sc">Prince</span> was secretly removed +to England. A fortnight ago he was seen in a motor-car driving round +Battersea Park, accompanied and guarded by an English officer.</p> + +<p>The <span class="sc">Prince</span> wore his saxe-blue full-dress tunic, his corn-gold moustache +and his rather stout face, and was looking considerably depressed.</p> + +<p>Since that date no word has come of him. The Censor seems to have +rigidly suppressed all evidence of his movements.</p> + +<p>Is the <span class="sc">Prince</span> kept prisoner on a trawler sweeping the North Sea for +mines? Has he escaped in the German submarine which ventured up the +Thames as far as the lower end of Fleet Street? Or is he interned in the +searchlight apparatus at Charing Cross to insure it against attack by +Zeppelins?</p> + +<p>We seek exact information.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"As regards the quality of this beverage, he said he was at a loss +to know on what grounds they called it coffee."—<i>Daily Mail.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Coffee grounds, no doubt.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h4>Journalistic Candour.</h4> + +<blockquote><p>"There comes a time when no responsible organ of public opinion can +keep silence without sacrificing the tacit obligation under which it +lies to its readers."—<i>The Globe.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>We are glad to note that in the same article there is a subsequent and +reassuring reference to our contemporary's "well-deserved reputation for +straightforwardness and accuracy."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The author of <i>Secrets of the German War Office</i> writes of the German +<span class="sc">Foreign Minister's</span> "atrocious taste in waistcoats":—</p> +<blockquote><p>"The one he had on still sticks in my memory. It was a lurid +peach-blossom creation, spotted with greed."</p></blockquote> +<p>It is to guard against this that so many of his compatriots tuck their +napkins in at their necks.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> + +<h2>AN ESCAPED PRISONER.</h2> + +<p>It was summertime, years ago, in the early days of the war.</p> + +<p>Having distributed myself quite satisfactorily within a hammock, I had +just decided that nothing short of invasion or the luncheon bell should +disturb me, when my flapper niece shot forth in my direction from the +French windows of the morning-room.</p> + +<p>In one hand she flourished an empty birdcage and in the other what +proved to be a tin of enormous hemp seeds.</p> + +<p>"Wake up!" she cried as she approached rapidly through the near +distance. "The precious Balaam has escaped! The brute must have got out +while I was fetching his clean water, and the windows were <i>wide</i> open!"</p> + +<p>The prospect of a canary hunt across country with a temperature at 80 +degrees in the shade positively made me shiver.</p> + +<p>"Your father is the man to catch it for you, Eileen," I suggested. "He's +most awfully good at catching things. I—er think he's somewhere on the +tennis-court."</p> + +<p>"He's not, because he was splashing about in the bathroom just now when +I wanted to fill Balaam's water-bottle."</p> + +<p>"All right," I said resignedly, "I'll come. Was Balaam the man or the +ass? I forget. And while we're at it why should you call the bird Balaam +at all?"</p> + +<p>Eileen was in no mood for foolish questionings.</p> + +<p>"Get up!" she ordered. "I call him Balaam because he's not a proper +canary—he's a mule."</p> + +<p>"Then I am not at all sure," I began hopefully, "that I can countenance +the keeping of mules in birdcages! Should the Society for the Prevention +of Cruelty to Animals get to hear of it, they would certainly——"</p> + +<p>"There he is!" interrupted Eileen shrilly as something yellowish flew +jerkily across a neighbouring cabbage bed. "That's Balaam! Take the +cage. I'll wait here in case he comes back!"</p> + +<p>By the time I had reached the further end of the cabbage bed I was just +in time to see a tawny bird vanish over a hedge, flop tantalisingly +across the road and disappear among the branches of an apple-tree on the +other side.</p> + +<p>What I now see to have been a mistaken idea of my duty towards Eileen +led me painfully through two hedges to the foot of the tree in whose +branches Balaam the Mule was possibly enjoying the first-fruits of his +liberty.</p> + +<p>In vain I produced vocal effects calculated to charm away the love of +travel from the breast of any canary; then, as Balaam persistently +refused to come to me, I proceeded slowly but surely, and accompanied by +the cage, to make my way to him.</p> + +<p>Whether tree-climbing shares the same age limit as that assigned to +recruits, or whether the cage was too severe a handicap, I don't know, +but halfway up I somehow found myself marooned on an obviously +inadequate branch.</p> + +<p>For several minutes I balanced uncertainly. Then someone began to pass +along the road beyond the hedge. As it seemed probable that their owner +might prove of use to me, I hailed the footsteps with a shout.</p> + +<p>The footsteps stopped and I shouted again.</p> + +<p>This time there was a faint scream in answer and a mauve-and-white +bonnet bobbed agitatedly up the road.</p> + +<p>After a few more minutes of delicate and masterly balancing I was +relieved to hear the approach of quite a number of people from the other +side of the orchard.</p> + +<p>Evidently the mauve-and-white bonnet had thoroughly realized my perilous +position, for my rescuers seemed to include almost the entire village. +Even the Vicar was there, armed with an assegai—no doubt a missionary +trophy. It was thoughtful of them to have turned out in such numbers to +rescue a mere visitor, but still one ploughman with a ladder would have +been ample.</p> + +<p>Soon words floated up to me from the mouth of the leading rescuer. "I'll +learn him!" he was saying with fervour. "I'll learn him to come +German-spying round my orchard!"</p> + +<p>Balaam or no Balaam, I drew the line at being assegaied to death as a +Teuton spy, so I dropped the cage with a bang and, clinging to the end +of my branch, I at last succeeded in gaining the ground in moderate +safety.</p> + +<p>When I had finished explaining about Balaam, they were convinced, though +evidently disappointed.</p> + +<p>"You see," explained the Vicar, prodding the apple-tree regretfully with +his assegai, "poor Miss Tittlepatter said that she had been attacked by +German spies from this very orchard."</p> + +<p>At the third prod of the Vicar's assegai, a brown-and-yellow bird flew +self-consciously from the top of the apple-tree and perched in full view +on a five-barred gate.</p> + +<p>"There he is!" I hissed, moving stealthily forward with the remains of +the birdcage. "There's Balaam the canary!"</p> + +<p>"Kenary!" contemptuously remarked the rescuer who had been so anxious to +undertake the education of Teutonic spies. "That ain't no kenary; that's +a bloomin' yellow'ammer!"</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>When, a dishevelled wreck, I reached my own gateway, I was met in the +drive by Eileen.</p> + +<p>"It's all right after all," she remarked cheerfully. "The stupid bird +was on the curtain pole all the time. So lucky, because, if he <i>had</i> got +out, it would have meant an awful bother. And, I say, is it true that +they've caught a German spy down in the village?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/384.png"> +<img src="images/384.png" width="100%" alt="No, Sir, neither of these masks was made in Germany." title="" /></a> +<p><i>Salesman.</i> "<span class="sc">No, Sir, neither of these masks was made in +Germany.</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p>In aid of the Arts Fund for the relief of the many members of the +artistic professions who are in distress owing to the War, a <i>Matinée</i> +under the patronage of <span class="sc">Queen Alexandra</span> will be given at the Royal Opera +House, Covent Garden, on Thursday, Nov. 5, at 3 o'clock. Mr. <span class="sc">Thomas +Beecham</span> will produce Bach's <i>Phœbus and Pan</i>, and Mr. <span class="sc">Granville +Barker</span> will produce <i>Philip the King</i>, a new play by Mr. <span class="sc">John Masefield</span>. +<i>Mr. Punch</i> very heartily commends the cause to his readers.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span></p><hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/385.png"> +<img src="images/385.png" width="100%" alt="Blankety-blank that bloomin' Kaiser!" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>Huntsman.</i> "<span class="sc">Blankety-blank that bloomin' Kaiser! I wish my 'ounds 'ad +'im!</span>"</p> +<p><i>Farmer.</i> "<span class="sc">What's 'e bin doin' to you now, Jack?</span>"</p> +<p><i>Huntsman.</i> "<span class="sc">Doin'? Just look at the 'osses 'e's left us to ride!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>NOTES BY A WAR-DOG.</h2> + +<p>Now I don't want to snarl at the Cause—whatever it may be—but it isn't +all beef-bones and country walks by any means. I first became aware of +it about the same time the Dachshund at the corner house began to +declare he was an Aberdeen Terrier. From that time on I scented +something wrong, though could never quite dig it out. For one thing, the +parrot began to practise a new phrase about "Down with the <span class="sc">Kai</span>...!" and +also "<i>Veeve</i>" the something or other. Then Mabel—who does absurd +things but has to be tolerated because she waits upon me—started tying +coloured ribbons in my hair, and later sticking little flags in my +collar; but I put a stop to that. A week ago things came to a head, and +don't look like improving.</p> + +<p>For the last five years my daily life has been brightened in manner +following. We live next door to a railway station and a pastry-cook's. +Every morning Mabel gives me a round hard thing she calls a penny, and +very slippery to hold in one's mouth. I carry the penny to the +pastry-cook's. The girl takes it and gives me a currant biscuit in +exchange. Sometimes there are people in the shop, and then I gaze upon +them meltingly. If they are the right sort, they melt—according to +their means; usually it's pastry. The rest of the day I spend loafing +about the station <i>and</i> the pastry-cook's. Now all that is changed.</p> + +<p>Last Thursday Mabel took me to a Committee, a place full of typewriters +and ladies; and I was registered—so they said; Mabel being given a +sheet of paper all over scribble, and a wooden box with "War Relief +Fund" on it. "On Monday, dear," said Mabel, "you begin."</p> + +<p>I have begun. Would you believe it? I had to wear that beastly box tied +to my collar! Retrievers, I know, are used to that sort of thing; but +I'm a Collie. All that day I hung about on my old beat, and every now +and then somebody gushed and called me silly names, and dropped a penny +into my box. Conceive the hideous mockery of my position! By four +o'clock there was I sitting outside that confectioner's, wearing enough +pennies to buy the shop out, and yet not a Bath bun to the good!</p> + +<p>But that wasn't the worst. About five an urchin came along, looked at +me, grinned, and tried to put something in my box. Clumsy little beast, +he trod on my foot. I sprang forward with a growl, and his offering, +whatever it was, rolled on the pavement. Round turned an old lady, and, +"Oh you wicked boy," she cried, "trying to put buttons in the hospital +box! No wonder the dog growled, sensible creature." She began fumbling +with her purse, and I was certain I saw a macaroon in her eye. "There," +she said, "there's half-a-crown for you, Doggie, dear," and, before I +could stop her, put it in the box. I could have bitten her.</p> + +<p>Yesterday an old gentleman stopped to stare at me, and, absent-mindedly +putting his hand in his pocket, brought out something rather like a +penny, but smaller and bright yellow, and dropped it into the box. The +very next moment he gave a violent start, looked wildly about him, +turned the colour of cold veal, and muttering, "Lord bless my soul ...<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> +what have I done?... thought it was only" ... made a clumsy grab at my +collar. Of course I knew what he was after; he wanted my pennies; so I +just ambled off, and very soon outdistanced him. An Airedale, I suppose, +would have held him till the police arrived, but I'm a Collie.</p> + +<p>That very same afternoon, wandering about the station, I chanced to +saunter into the ticket-office. The clerk's a man with a very +well-regulated mind. He gives me chocolate. Just then, however, he was +out, but his three-year-old boy-puppy was there sitting on a table all +covered with bits of cardboard and little piles of pennies, ordinary +brown ones, big white ones and a few little yellow ones. Well, in less +time than it takes to cock your ears, that baby was shovelling pennies +through the slit in my box and chuckling with joy. I stood it as long as +I could, and then, in the nick of time, snatched a big white penny out +of his paw and bolted off to the confectioner's. Imagine my astonishment +when the girl actually refused to serve me! "Oh, Scottie," she cried, +"there must be some mistake; I <i>know</i> your mistress wouldn't give you a +two-shilling piece."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>I thought Mabel was going to be ill when she felt the weight of my box. +She dragged me off that very afternoon to the Committee, and when they +discovered I'd collected seven pounds ten in three days the idiotic +things they said about me beat anything in my experience since the time +I killed the mouse in the conservatory. But I will say Mabel did the +right thing by me at the pastry-cook's.</p> + +<p>She's going to take me to a Church Bazaar to-morrow. But I doubt if a +bazaar can beat that ticket-office.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>HERBERT.</h2> + +<p>"I haven't introduced Herbert to you yet, have I?"</p> + +<p>Stella-my-niece spoke with her eyes on the matinée hat before her, and +concluded, <i>à propos</i> of the hat, though at first I feared of +Herbert—"I do hope and pray that it will come off. Hip! Hip! She's +pulling out pins."</p> + +<p>"I had no idea there was—a Herbert."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Nunckle! and you're responsible for the fact that he's mine at +all!"</p> + +<p>"I responsible?"</p> + +<p>"Well, but for you I never might have seen him even; and I'm sure there +isn't another like Herbert in the whole round world. Everyone wants +him."</p> + +<p>Presently I enquired when she proposed to introduce this paragon to the +person responsible for him.</p> + +<p>"I've got him here to-day."</p> + +<p>I looked at her in pained silence, for Stella-my-niece, calmly fishing +for "hard ones" in a chocolate box, was, as it were, sheltered under the +lee of a long-haired gentleman who occupied rather more than double +half-a-crown's worth of red velvet seat.</p> + +<p>"There?" I whispered, pointing to the long-haired gentleman who +neighboured her, and wondering what her mother would have to say about +it all.</p> + +<p>Stella-my-niece smiled.</p> + +<p>"Do you imagine that I should bring Herbert into the pit?"</p> + +<p>"Point him out to me."</p> + +<p>"I can't. Now they're going to begin!" She snuggled down into her place +and invited me to do likewise in my own as the curtain rose and revealed +the legs of one of our leading actor-managers, and the audience clapped, +hoping for more. "Now we're going to enjoy ourselves! Don't forget to +hold my hand if anything pops."</p> + +<p>Stella-my-niece has made it a stern rule that we are not to talk during +the Acts, contriving to telegraph her appreciation of most things by +fervent clutches at my arm; but to-day the effects of this salutary +regulation were spoilt for me by Herbert. My attention wandered.</p> + +<p>"Is he an actor?" I asked sternly, as the lights leaped up again.</p> + +<p>"Which do you mean? I think they were all perfect darlings in that +scene."</p> + +<p>"Why, Herbert, of course."</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Herbert</span>—Sir <span class="sc">Herbert</span>? He isn't in this, is he? I didn't see anyone +looking as bored as he does. Hunt him up in the programme—it's down +there under your boots."</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean <span class="sc">Tree</span>. I meant Herbert—your Herbert."</p> + +<p>"My Herbert?" Stella-my-niece opened her mouth showing astonishment and +very pretty teeth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, your Herbert. He's an actor fellow, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"No, he's an umbrella—my new umbrella. I bought him with the sovereign +you sent me for my birthday, and he is such a darling! I felt he ought +to have a name of his own, so I called him Herbert. He looks like that."</p> + +<p>"A girl's name—Maud, for instance, only one doesn't use them in the +garden much——"</p> + +<p>"A girl's name, like Pauline, may suit your fountain pen, and Dad may +call the motor 'Mary Jane' when he's pleased with how he's mended her; +but I decided I would have a man's. It sounds better to say, 'Herbert is +seeing me home, thank you.' The sad thing is that I'm sure I shan't keep +him long; he's so pretty. When he's waiting for me in umbrella-stands I +feel nervous, and in trains. He's so unique—so utterly unlike anyone +else's umbrella. I know you'll love him."</p> + +<p>I did as soon as ever I saw him coming out of the cloak-room hanging on +her arm. There was a gentle coyness in the turn of Herbert's handle, a +nutty daintiness about his little gold tie which made me look +involuntarily for his socks.</p> + +<p>"Now, you wait and see if someone doesn't try to run off with him before +we get home," said Stella-my-niece. "I'll hold him on a long lead so +that people will think he's out by himself, and we'll await +developments."</p> + +<p>We settled ourselves by tact and firmness in a crowded <i>après matinée</i> +'bus, and Stella-my-niece, having set down all her belongings the better +to persuade the programme to ride inside her pocket, took Herbert by his +long tassels, leaving him leaning against the seat between herself and +her neighbour, a lady with many trimmings and a book.</p> + +<p>"I hope she'll go before we do," said Stella-my-niece in my ear. "I sort +of feel that she'll try to take Herbert."</p> + +<p>She did; as she read, her hand reached out and took a grip upon +Herbert's immaculate head! Stella-my-niece stifled a squeak of pure +excitement.</p> + +<p>"Oxford Street," announced the conductor dispassionately, and the +trimmed lady shut her book and rose to get out. Stella-my-niece, holding +Herbert by his tassels, smiled indulgently.</p> + +<p>"You have my umbrella, I'm afraid," she said sweetly. "It is such a very +uncommon one that I simply couldn't be mistaken."</p> + +<p>The trimmed lady looked round; so did everyone in the 'bus. Then she +pointed to a slim object propped against the seat between +Stella-my-niece's blue skirt and my own striped garments.</p> + +<p>"That's yours by the gentleman; they're just the same pattern."</p> + +<p>So they were!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>As Stella-my-niece said afterwards at tea, the worst of it was that it +proved that Herbert wasn't quite unique; at the best he was a twin. I +think that privately we thought him something worse than a triplet, but +we neither knew quite how to say it. Anyhow, all the Herberts are +fascinating.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>The Universal War.</h4> + +<blockquote><p>"Into this gap the Germans placed a number of gnus—six or +eight."—<i>People.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>The "Gorilla Warfare" (mentioned last week) having failed, the enemy +tries a new dodge. But the Allies remain unalarmed.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/387.png"> +<img src="images/387.png" width="100%" alt="LATEST DEVICE OF THE ENEMY" /></a> +<h4>LATEST DEVICE OF THE ENEMY.</h4> +<p><span class="sc">Learning to sing "It's a long, long way to Tipperary" for the purpose of +deceiving the Allies.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<center>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</center> + +<p>If, as is just conceivable, the Teuton braggart fails to convert the +universe into a German empire, his downfall will be partly due to his +lack of humour. Among the things that go to make this saving grace are +an agile imagination and a nice sense of proportion, and it is when a +man starts lying about himself that he shows most clearly whether or not +he has it. Some weeks ago an "Honorary Committee of thirty-four +distinguished" (or, if you will, notorious) "Germans and a Board of +Editors," eleven strong, gathered together to concoct an epoch-making +fib, which, upon completion, was labelled "The Truth about Germany: +Facts about the War," and was circulated, secretly but thoroughly, +throughout the United States. The Forty-five Liars content themselves +with a methodical misstatement of every fact, disregarding all the +evidence, and, indeed, their own diplomatists' admissions, to the +contrary. There is no ingenious perversion of the truth, no subtle +invention of argument and no appeal whatever to the intelligence of the +reader; it is from beginning to end heavy and quite incredible bosh. +Though it was never intended to be read in this country, Mr. <span class="sc">Douglas +Sladen</span> has been lucky or clever enough to secure a copy of it, which he +reproduces cheaply under the title <i>Germany's Great Lie</i> (<span class="sc">Hutchinson</span>). I +congratulate him upon having obtained such excellent copy, but I think +he has somewhat spoilt the effect of it by the manner of his annotations +interposed in italics. His facts and quotations are apt and useful, but +his indignant denials and sarcastic epithets run to excess; every time +one reads the emphatic assertion that black is white one does not want +to have also to read that this is an amazing lie. I recommend the public +to consume every word of the text, but to omit the larger part of the +notes.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>In the nature of things it is possible that the 1914 crop of gift-books +for boys may not be a bumper one as far as quantity is concerned, but +Mr. <span class="sc">Henry Newbolt</span> has already removed any danger of a famine. Indeed, he +has done more than that, for, if quality can (as it should) be +considered a satisfactory substitute for bulk, there is no reason why +1914 should not be remembered as a year in which the palates of +discerning boys were most delightfully tickled. I find a difficulty in +preventing my congratulations upon <i>The Book of the Blue Sea</i> (<span class="sc">Longmans</span>) +from being fulsome. To begin with, the title itself is simply +irresistible. Then, before you even get to the preface, there are some +verses, "The Song of the Larboard Berth," which cry "halt" so +arrestingly that after I had got by them and was fairly revelling in the +entrancing pages that follow I kept on going back to have another look +at</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"When moonlight flecks the cruiser's decks</p> +<p class="i2">And engines rumble slow ..."</p> +</div></div> + +<p>To a nicety Mr. <span class="sc">Newbolt</span> knows how to reproduce the spirit of the sea and +of adventure thereon, and whether he is writing of <span class="sc">Edward Pellew, John +Franklin, David Farragut</span>, or of Trafalgar, it is only possible to escape +from his grip when he endeavours to be a little edifying. Boys may +conceivably resent this tendency to point out what they can see +extraordinarily well for themselves, but all the same they will admit +their heavy debt to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> <i>The Book of the Blue Sea</i> (I must write that +again), excellently illustrated by Mr. <span class="sc">Norman Wilkinson</span>, had better be +confiscated forthwith by parents who do not wish their sons to become +sailors. And in the end I am left wondering whether the Admiralty, +overburdened by clamorous applicants, would not be wise to intern Mr. +<span class="sc">Newbolt</span> in one of those camps where no ink or paper is provided, +because, if he repeats this performance, we shall want a dozen new naval +colleges and hundreds and hundreds more ships.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>Shifting Sands</i> (<span class="sc">Lane</span>) reads like a book with a purpose from which the +purpose has been by some oversight omitted. When a young person fails to +"find herself" (as the phrase used to go) there should surely be +provided some foil to her instability, either implicit in the behaviour +of other characters or expressed in the meditations of the author. Even +if the author only means to tell us that human life is all like this, +she ought at least to let us know that she means it. <i>Gabrielle Brenda</i> +is presented to us by <span class="sc">Alice Birkhead</span> as a girl brought up in the remoter +parts of Cornwall by a father who was a semi-retired doctor and +something of a dreamer. She develops dramatic talent, and having become +engaged to her instructor gives him up to her younger sister for no +better reason apparently than that she has always been accustomed to +give that sister everything she wants. Afterwards <i>Gabrielle</i> becomes +the secretary of a domineering little manufacturer in the Black Country +with expensive sons and daughters. She resists his proposals of marriage +and also the temptation to purloin his eldest daughter's <i>fiancé</i>, and +then reverts to her original vocation, without finding on the stage +either satisfaction or any remarkable success. For I see no indication +that the offer of a fairly lucrative engagement in America, with which +the book ends, is regarded by the author as the golden moment of her +heroine's career. Altogether I am at a loss whether to learn from +<i>Shifting Sands</i> the disadvantages of a haphazard education, the unfair +position of woman in the labour-market, or merely the irony of fate. And +this is a pity because, though the manner of the story is very episodic, +there are scenes and conversations of considerable vivacity and truth.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Baroness Orczy</span> is to be congratulated on a distinctly ingenious idea. +Searching about her, no doubt, for a successor to the famous +<i>Pimpernel</i>, her attention was caught by a certain picture in the +<span class="sc">Wallace</span> Collection, a picture everyone knows and admires for its +rollicking and adventurous high spirits. "Capital!" said she (as I +imagine it); "why not trace back the line of <i>Blakeney</i>, and make the +subject of this picture the ancestor from whom he inherited his +endearing qualities?" <i>The Laughing Cavalier</i> (<span class="sc">Hodder and Stoughton</span>) is +the result. Having thus divined the origin of the hero, I feel that any +further indication of his character would be almost superfluous. You +will certainly not find this new <i>Blakeney</i> unworthy of his house. It is +perhaps something of a surprise to find him a mercenary in +seventeenth-century Holland; but the old touch is there. Thus, having +been hired by a gang of conspirators to abduct the sister of one of +them, who has overheard their plans for the slaying of the Stadtholder, +and keep her prisoner till the deed be done, what more <i>Blakeneyish</i> +than that he should recognise in his captive the particular object of +his affections? or that, having abducted the girl according to +instructions received, he should presently be offered untold gold by her +distracted parent for her discovery and return. A faintly embarrassing +situation this, even for an ancestor of the elusive <i>Pimpernel</i>. How he +manages to turn it all to favour and romance you must allow Baroness +<span class="sc">Orczy</span> to tell you herself. Incidentally, the appearance of the book at +this particular moment, and in spite (so the publishers inform me on a +slip) of the author's first resolve to postpone it, proves her to +possess something of the sporting spirit of her creation. Hero's luck to +them both!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A novelist creating a novelist-hero is on dangerous ground. If he be a +little less than perfectly sincere he runs risk of being pretentious, +fatuous even. But sincerity is just Mr. <span class="sc">Charles Marriott's</span> conspicuous +quality, and here in <i>The Unpetitioned Heavens</i> (<span class="sc">Hutchinson</span>) it commands +a dexterous and fastidious workmanship. You'll find, if you read a scene +over again, that there's more, not less, in it than you thought. Mr. +<span class="sc">Marriott</span> makes his characters alive by realisation of their subtleties +rather than of their obviousnesses, and that's a feat to which I doff my +beaver. The main theme, sensitively felt and developed, is a delicate +one—the love of a middle-aged woman for a man who is rapt in worship at +a distance of a younger woman, the other's friend. The manœuvring of +the elder, which might easily have been vulgarised on the one hand or +devitalised on the other, just remains refreshingly and believably +human. Mr. <span class="sc">Marriott's</span> story is not a yarn, but a brocade of intricate +design and exquisite colouring. Let justice be done and <i>The +Unpetitioned Heavens</i> fall to a wide circle of perceptive readers.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/388.png"> +<img src="images/388.png" width="100%" alt="Amateur Constable, policeman's son" /></a> +<p><i>Amateur Constable</i> (<i>Policeman's son</i>). "<span class="sc">I arrest yer on +suspicion o' stealin' a reservoir. Any 'ollerin' 'll be took dahn agin +yer.</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>The Patriot.</h4> + +<blockquote><p>"At Monday's meeting, Mr. H. H. Gibbs, J. P., the Chairman, +expressed the opinion that the town should not be so conspicuous at +night, as in the event of a Zeppelin raid Bognor might be mistaken +for Portsmouth."—<i>Southern Weekly News.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>It would be small consolation to England, if Bognor Cinema Palace fell, +that Portsmouth Dockyard had been saved.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +147, November 4, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, NOV 4, 1914 *** + +***** This file should be named 28470-h.htm or 28470-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/4/7/28470/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Neville Allen, +Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://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, November 4, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: April 1, 2009 [EBook #28470] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, NOV 4, 1914 *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Neville Allen, +Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + PUNCH, + + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + + VOL. 147. + + NOVEMBER 4, 1914. + + +CHARIVARIA. + +The _Fremdenblatt_ of Hamburg congratulates itself that "the British +campaign of pin-pricks is fast coming to a miserable end." If the +reference is to bayonets, our contemporary is in error. + + * * * + +A Berlin news agency states that General LEMAN, of Liege, is actually a +German. It is characteristic of the Germans to bring an accusation like +that against a brave and innocent man in adversity. + + * * * + +The _Koelnische Volkszeitung_ records the foundation of a "German Truth +Society." We are glad that it is realised over there at last that there +is a difference between Truth and German Truth. + + * * * + +It is semi-officially announced that the KAISER'S headquarters are now +in France. His hindquarters were recently seen in Russia. + + * * * + +A detachment of British cavalry, while playing water polo in the Oise, +suddenly spotted a patrol of German Uhlans, jumped on their horses +naked, and in that state charged the enemy. We understand that a protest +has been lodged at the War Office by the British Propriety League. + + * * * + +A motor wireless section in Scotland is searching for a mascot and +regimental pet, and a Glasgow newspaper invites its readers to supply a +suitable animal. What would be wrong with a wireless terrier? + + * * * + +Shortly before the outbreak of the war, it is said, the KAISER ordered a +Gloucester spotted pig in this country. Later on the shipment of the pig +was countermanded. Presumably sufficient pigs had already been spotted +in the German army. + + * * * + +A pretty tribute to our ability to keep our hair on in a crisis was paid +last week at the Bow County Court by an itinerant vendor of a hair +restorer. He informed the Court that since the war there had been no +demand for his goods. + + * * * + +A correspondent writes to _The Times_ to object to the nickname +"Tommies" applied to our soldiers. "Thomases" would undoubtedly be more +respectful and dignified. + + * * * + +An original production of _Everyman_ is to be given at the Cathedral +Hall, Westminster, on the 12th, 13th and 14th instant, in aid of the +Actors' Benevolent Fund. We trust that Everyman will do his duty and +bring in a large sum for this admirable object. + + * * * + +The French authorities have seized ten race-horses stabled at St. +Symphorien, near Tours, which belonged to M. MUMM, of the famous +champagne firm, who is a German subject. Motto for those Germans who +were captured speechless in the neighbourhood of Rheims:--"Mumm's the +word!" + + * * * + +We note that there is a strong cast in _The Glad Eye_ which has made its +appearance again. + + * * * + +Which reminds us that they are calling a certain cheery correspondent on +our Generalissimo's Staff "The Glad Eye Witness." + + * * * + +The latest news from South Africa would seem to show that Beyers are +sometimes sold. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: "NOT BIG ENOUGH! D'YER KNOW 'OO I AM? D'YER KNOW FOIVE +YEAR AGO I WAS CHAMPION LIGHT-WEIGHT OF WAPPING?" + +"I'VE NO DOUBT YOU'RE A GOOD MAN; BUT, YOU SEE, YOU DON'T COME UP TO THE +REQUIRED MEASUREMENTS, SO I'M AFRAID THAT'S THE END OF IT." + +"OH, ALL RIGHT, THEN. ONLY, MIND YER, IF YER GO AN' LOSE THIS 'ERE +WAR--WELL, DON'T BLAME _ME_--THAT'S ALL!" + + * * * * * + +THE FLASH-LIGHT THAT FAILED. + +(_Lines suggested by a recent incident on the Firth of Forth._) + + There was a young alien in Fife + Who on spying was keen as a knife, + Till a sentry--good egg!-- + Plugged him bang through the leg + And ruined his prospects for life. + + * * * * * + + "Along the coast the French Fleet are now aiding the British + monitors, smashing the heavy buns rolled up to the coast by the + Germans." + +In the heavy bun department we fear no rivals, and the Germans will soon +find that in more than one railway-station refreshment department they +will meet their Waterloo. + + * * * * * + +TO A FALSE PATRIOT. + + He came obedient to the Call; + He might have shirked like half his mates + Who, while their comrades fight and fall, + Still go to swell the football gates. + + And you, a patriot in your prime, + You waved a flag above his head, + And hoped he'd have a high old time, + And slapped him on the back and said: + + "You'll show 'em what we British are! + Give us your hand, old pal, to shake;" + And took him round from bar to bar + And made him drunk--for England's sake. + + That's how you helped him. Yesterday, + Clear-eyed and earnest, keen and hard, + He held himself the soldier's way-- + And now they've got him under guard. + + That doesn't hurt you; you're all right; + Your easy conscience takes no blame; + But he, poor boy, with morning's light, + He eats his heart out, sick with shame. + + What's that to you? You understand + Nothing of all his bitter pain; + You have no regiment to brand; + You have no uniform to stain; + + No vow of service to abuse, + No pledge to KING and country due; + But he had something dear to lose, + And he has lost it--thanks to you. + + * * * * * + +UNWRITTEN LETTERS TO THE KAISER. + +No. VI. + +(_From Professor HERMANN MUeLLER, Ph.D., Private in the ----th Regiment +of Prussian Infantry._) + +_Belgium._ + +YOUR MAJESTY,--I am one of your Majesty's most loyal and most faithfully +devoted subjects, and, if I now write to you, it is not because I doubt +for one moment that you are inspired in all your actions by a clearer +wisdom and a firmer grasp of facts than any that I can pretend to, but +because there are certain questions which obstinately press upon me to +such an extent that I must relieve my mind of them. + +At the beginning I was a firm believer in the necessity of this war, and +in the perfect and not-to-be-shattered justice of our cause. I had read +all that there was to read: TREITSCHKE, NIETZSCHE, BERNHARDI, FROBENIUS +and a hundred others, from whose writings it can be most easily shown +that Germany alone among nations has the power and the will to expand +and to rule; that expansion and rule must be accomplished by war, which, +far from being a misfortune, is a noble object to be aimed at and not +avoided by statesmen; that all other nations are degenerate and must for +their own good be crushed by Germany; and that any nation which resists +Germany is through that very act an enemy of the human race. I also +believed that German culture is something different from and superior to +such culture (if it be worthy of the name) as is possessed by other +countries. All these beliefs I set out in my booklet entitled, "Der +Lorbeerkranz," which I humbly and with the most profound heart's +devotion dedicated to your august and glorious Majesty. Did you, I +wonder, deign to cast your Imperial eyes on this effort of my pen? How +well I remember obtaining my first copy of the book on the happy day +that saw its publication. It seemed printed in letters of gold, and, +filled with high yearnings and expectations, I took it home to my +beloved Anna. We read it aloud together, turn and turn about, with +laughter and applause and tears, for we saw therein the foundation of +fame. + +So, at the war's beginning, I shouted with the rest for my KAISER and my +country, knowing that the war was just and that we should end by +annexing England's colonies, after destroying her armies and her ships, +and those of France and Russia into the bargain. + +Well, that is already, as it seems to me, a thousand years ago, and I +must admit that at that time I did not consider it possible that I +myself with all my weight of learning as well as my regulation knapsack +should be marching about, or lying in a trench on the plains of +Flanders, divided by a few hundred yards from English soldiers, who have +in their hands rifles and bayonets, and know how to use them. In the +intervals of firing, as we lie there, a man has time to think, and it is +wonderful how clear his ideas become in such conditions. Some of us do +not think or think only what they are told. Poor simple fellows, they +still believe they are even now at the gates of Paris, and that +to-morrow is the day appointed for the entrance; whereas I know that, +having been close to Paris in a mad rush, our armies have since +retreated day after day. + +But all this happened before I myself had to join the fight with the +older men. Now I know that the English and the French have much to say +for themselves, and, in any case, that it is plain nonsense--I beg Your +Majesty's pardon for using this word, but it is there and I will not +strike it out--it is plain nonsense to believe that the good God who has +made us all has had any interest in making our Germans out of better +clay than that which He has used for other men. I cannot even make an +exception in the case of your Imperial Majesty's own self. Thus do my +thoughts run in the trenches during this dreadful battle. What things +have I heard, what awful sights have I seen since I received my marching +orders! I think of Anna and of little Karl, and hope only that some day +I shall be far away from these scenes in a place where peace shall reign +and I can see them both again. But when will this be? + + With most humble respect, + + HERMANN MUeLLER. + + * * * * * + +"THE GREATER GAME." + +This Cartoon, which deals with professional football and the War, and +appeared in the issue of _Punch_ for October 21, has now been reprinted +in the form of Posters and Handbills. These will be gladly sent free of +charge, for the purpose of distribution or exhibition, to anyone +interested in recruiting among football players and the enormous crowds +that attend League Matches. Applications, stating the number required, +should be addressed to The Secretary, _Punch_ Offices, 10, Bouverie +Street, E.C., who will gratefully acknowledge any contributions towards +the expense involved. + +"The Greater Game" is also being reproduced in the form of a Lantern +Slide for exhibition at Cinemas, etc. + + * * * * * + + "Plaintiff, Mr. W. E. Brown, trading as Bre-...oEwenforOD.tonthr.s)- + cflandshrdlucmfwyptherton and Watt, auctioneers, of Winton, + claimed a sum of L4 13s. 6d."--_Bournemouth Echo._ + +In our "List of firms which must have a telegraphic address" Mr. BROWN +takes a high place. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: FOREWARNED. + +ZEPPELIN (_as "The Fat Boy"_). "'I WANTS TO MAKE YOUR FLESH CREEP.'" + +JOHN BULL. "RIGHT-O!" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Jim_ (_just leaving for Egypt_). "WELL, GOOD-BYE, +MOTHER; TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. I'LL BRING YOU A PYRAMID WHEN I COME BACK +HOME." + +_Mother._ "THA MUN DO NOWT O' T' SOORT, LAD. THA MUNNA GET THYSEN I' ANY +TROUBLE FOR ME." + + * * * * * + +ANOTHER INNOCENT VICTIM OF THE WAR. + +SIR,--Will you grant me the hospitality of your columns for the exposure +of a grievance? The rest of the Press, which until recent mouths have +welcomed my communications, seem to have become indifferent to matters +affecting the health and comfort of the intellectual classes. + +I am a professional man. For the past five-and-twenty years, with only +one exception (the year following the Diamond Jubilee of the late QUEEN +VICTORIA), I have fallen a victim during the first days of November to +an attack of bronchial catarrh. In this distressing complaint, as you +may be aware, an early symptom is a fit of sneezing, with other manifest +discomfort which I need not here particularise. + +For the past twenty-five years (with the one exception to which I have +alluded) my first sneeze has been the signal for alarm among the +women-folk of my household. My elder sister goes quietly upstairs for +the bottle of ammoniated quinine; my younger sister explores the +recesses of a cupboard for the piece of red flannel to which I have been +accustomed; and Emily, the maid, without being instructed, puts the +kettle on the gas-stove. Any lady visitor there may be in the house is +ready with suggestions of alternative remedies, recalling numerous +interesting and instructive examples. Light and nourishing dishes are +prepared for my dinner; a hot-water bottle is placed in my bed; and in +the bedroom a fire is lit. I retire to rest at 9.30, and, having +disrobed and covered myself with an augmented supply of blankets, I am +brought a glass of hot milk by one of my sisters, who gently places my +dressing-gown round my shoulders while I drink it. Afterwards I lie down +to sleep, with the bell-push within reach. A tap at the door wakes me +next morning. "May I bring in a cup of tea, dear Septimus?" asks my +other sister. I am implored to remain in bed for the day, and swift +arrangements are made with the butcher, when he calls, to telephone a +message to the office. Emily refrains from singing while washing up, and +wears felt slippers during her duties about the house. + +Such, Sir, has been the routine attending this practically annual event +for the past five-and-twenty years. But I regret to inform you that a +secret and sinister change has been at work in our domestic relations. +The first sneeze of this year's attack took place last evening. My once +attentive sisters, immersed in wool and flannel of all shades, took no +notice; Miss Annistay, an old family friend, alone remarked upon my +condition, stating that colds were very prevalent, and adding somewhat +irrelevantly that it must be terrible in the trenches this weather. For +dinner I had nothing more sustaining than our customary fare, and when I +asked for hot milk at bedtime my sisters inquired, "Whatever for, +Septimus?" I sought my chamber, only to find, on enquiry, that my +dressing-gown, my extra blankets and my hot-water bottle had +disappeared--gone, I understand, to a local hospital. And, far from +remaining in bed to-day, I am writing this from my office, an +exceedingly draughty apartment. + + Yours cordially, + SEPTIMUS CODDELL. + +P.S.--Of course I thoroughly approve of the idea that we must all make +sacrifices in time of war; but, as I tell my household, these sacrifices +should be personal and not vicarious. + + * * * * * + +OUR GUY. + +We feel just a little hurt that the police have not prohibited our +village bonfire. Why shouldn't Zeppelins come to Little Pilswick? Why +should an arrogant metropolis monopolise everything? Still we hid our +mortification and the Guy Committee met as usual in the saloon bar of +the "Bull". + +In the first instance Prodgers moved that the celebration be dropped, +and that all material already collected be given to the Belgian +refugees. It was pointed out to him that a gift of two empty tar-barrels +and half-a-dozen furze bushes, though meant in all kindness, might prove +embarrassing to any relief committee. Besides, we are happy in the +entertainment of two Belgian families, and the feeling was that the +sight of an uncultured fire would cheer them. So Prodgers was +temporarily crushed. Then came the all-important question of the guy. + +Mr. Flodden, the landlord, began the discussion. "Last year we'd LLOYD +GEORGE, but we can't have no politics now, though he's--well, I wish I +could tell him what he is. Year before we'd the Squire for stopping up +that footpath, but he's in the Yeomanry now, so he's barred." + +"The KAISER!" cried Jenkins. "Have him with mailed fists holding up a +torn scrap of paper." + +"No, the CROWN PRINCE," suggested Webb. "Everyone would know him if we +put a silver spoon in each hand and hung a silver coffee-pot round his +neck." + +"DE WET," proposed Cobb. + +"Had him twelve year or more ago," said the landlord. "DE WET'S off." + +A fierce controversy now ensued between partisans of the KAISER and the +CROWN PRINCE. Prodgers argued ably that it was much worse to destroy a +cathedral than to steal plate; whilst Unwin, the jobbing builder, +declared that the damaging of a cathedral gave work to a very deserving +class of men, and said he would very much rather see the parish +church-tower knocked down than the Vicar's spoons stolen. At last +feeling ran so high it was decided to put the matter to the vote. Five +voted for the light-headed KAISER, five for his light-fingered heir. All +eyes turned on the landlord to see which way his casting vote would go. + +"Friends all," said. Mr. Flodden, "we've kep' ourselves respectable in +this village. Even our guys have been respectable, though, mind you, +that LLOYD GEORGE--well, if it wasn't wartime, I'd say he come precious +near the line. Now what's the good of us letting ourselves down to burn +these 'Uns? What about old GUY FAWKES? I grant you he wanted to blow up +the 'Ouses of Parliament; but, if there was licensing bills in those +days, I don't blame him. I say stick to old GUY and be respectable." + +It was carried unanimously. + +Somewhere in his rush from theatre to theatre of the war a message will +reach the KAISER. The hatred of a world may flatter him, but the cold, +chilling contempt of Little Pilswick will pierce to his very heart. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: OBVIOUS EMBARRASSMENT OF LITTLE BINKS, WHO HAS INJURED +HIS HAND IN THE PEACEFUL OCCUPATION OF PICTURE-HANGING, AT BEING +MISTAKEN FOR A WOUNDED HERO. + + * * * * * + +THE REPORT FALLACIOUS. + +I have a son, William. But there are compensations; he is at school. + +It was at the crisis of parting at the station that it seemed to me +necessary to give William a word of parental advice. I hate seeing small +boys at such moments stuffing themselves in refreshment-rooms. + +"William," I said, "life is not all cricket and football." + +"No, father" replied William, looking hard at the refreshment-room, +"there's golf." + +"That, William, is scarcely a game. I should describe it in my own case +as an exercise taken under medical advice, to obtain relief from +business strain." + +"Father," burst out William, "there's Cheffins minor in the +refreshment-room." + +"William," I proceeded, "at the end of each term I receive an +unsatisfactory report about you from your house-master. It is only then +that I know you have wasted three months of golden time." ("Golden time" +was a happy inspiration.) + +"Old Starks is a rotter," said William briefly. + +"Now I put you on your honour, William, to send me a truthful report of +your progress at the half-term. Then if you are not doing well I can +write and ask that you should have special attention. On your honour, +mind." + +"Yes, father. Shall we go across to the refreshment-room now?" + +"Ah, yes, certainly," I said, noticing a signal drop. "Oh, no; here's +your train coming in." + +Then having done my duty I forgot all about the promised report. It +arrived unexpectedly this morning. He had framed it precisely on the +model of his house-master's reports:-- + +_Position in Form._ First. + +_Progress._ Very marked; decidedly more attentive and industrious. + +_Latin._ A distinct improvement in versification. Translates easily and +intelligently. + +_Greek._ Displays remarkable promise. + +("Of course it won't be much use to him in my leather business," I said +to my wife; "still it shows grit.") + +_Mathematics._ Again marked progress is to be recorded. + +_Conduct._ Courteous, orderly, obedient. A good influence in the house. + +_General Remarks._ Will achieve a high position in the school, but must +take care that too close absorption in study does not interfere with his +athletic development. + +"Most gratifying," I said to my wife. "I just put the boy on his honour. +I don't believe in lecturing boys. Ah, what's this at the bottom?" + +I read with horror the foot-note, "_Per_ Wireless from Berlin." + +I am a parent, so I instructed my wife to write a letter saying how much +I was pained by William's frivolity. I am a patriot, so, without her +knowledge, I slipped a postal order for ten shillings into the envelope. + + * * * * * + +We hear there is no truth in the report that Mr. JAMES WELCH intends +renaming his successful farce (now moved to the New Theatre) "When +Nights Were Dark." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: + +_Visitor_ (_leaving inn after sleepless night_). "I SUPPOSE YOU DON'T +HAPPEN TO BE A GERMAN?" + +_Landlord._ "DO I LOOK LIKE IT?" + +_Visitor._ "NO; BUT I THOUGHT I'D JUST ASK BECAUSE MY ROOM LAST NIGHT +HAD A CONCRETE BED IN IT." + + * * * * * + +THE GREAT PETARD. + +(_Being some further reliable information about the enormous siege gun +which is to shell us from Calais._) + + + This is the tale of the Master Hun + And how, on thinking it over, + He bade his henchmen build him a gun + With a belly as huge as the Heidelberg Tun + To batter the cliffs of Dover. + + See how the Uhlans' lances toss! + As a mother her child they love it; + Guarding it well from scathe and loss + They have stamped its side with a big Red Cross, + And the white flag waves above it. + + First it was cast in Essen town; + Junkers in gay apparel + Flocked to sample its high renown, + And a dozen or more, they say, sat down + To dinner inside its barrel. + + Fair and free did the Rhine wine flow + Till the face of every glutton + Shone with a patriot's after-glow, + And then they retired a mile or so + And the WAR LORD pressed the button. + + _Hoch!_ The howitzer stood the test, + Belching like fifty craters, + And (this is perhaps the cream of the jest) + There was more than metal inside its chest, + For they hadn't removed the waiters. + + Now it has come on armoured trains + To the further side of the Channel; + Prayers are said in a hundred fanes + For its godlike soul, and whenever it rains + They muffle its throat with flannel. + + Strange indeed is the cry of its shells, + Like a pack of hounds in full wail, + Like the roar of a mountain stream that swells + Or like anything else from a peal of bells + To the bark of a wounded bull-whale. + + But the worst of it is that when--and if-- + It begins its work of slaughter + It will possibly harm the Kentish cliff, + But it's perfectly certain to go and biff + The French one into the water. + + So when you shall hear a noise on high + Like the medium brush of a barber, + And a monstrous bullet falls from the sky + And blows off the head of a Prussian spy + As he dallies in Dover Harbour, + + You shall know that at last the WAR LORD'S host, + By dint of a stout endeavour, + Have chipped off a bit of the Calais coast + And caused the isle that they pant for most + To be further away than ever. + + EVOE. + + * * * * * + +THE PEACE CIGAR. + +"By the way, Lorna was there this morning," said Celia. "Her brother's +in the War Office." + +"And what did KITCHENER tell him when they last had lunch together?" I +asked. + +"Well," smiled Celia, "he does say that----" + +I get all my best news from Celia nowadays. When I meet you in the City +and mention that I know for a fact that the KAISER is in hiding at +Liverpool, you may be sure that Celia saw Vera yesterday morning, and +that Vera's uncle is somebody important on the Liverpool Defence +Committee. + +Twice a week Celia ties up parcels for the Fleet. Ordinary people +provide the blankets, sea-boots, chocolate, periscopes and so forth; +Celia looks after the brown paper and string, which always seems to me +the most tricky part. There are a dozen of them, all working together; +and you can imagine (or, anyhow, _I_ can) Vera or Kitty or Isobel, her +mouth full of knot, gossiping away about her highly-placed relations, +while Beryl or Evelyn or Lorna looks up from the parcel she is kneeling +on and interrupts, "Well, my _brother_ heard----I say, where did you +put my scissors?" + +"Well," smiled Celia, "Lorna's brother in the War Office says the war +will be over by Christmas." + +"Hooray," I said; and I went out and looked at my cigar. + +This cigar arrived at my house in a case of samples last July. The +samples went up from right to left in order of importance, each in his +own little bed--until you got to Torpedo Jimmy at the end, who had a +double bed to himself. Starting with _Cabajo fino_ in the right-hand +corner, the prices ranged from about nine a penny to five pounds apiece, +the latter being the approximate charge for T. James or any of his +brethren. + +Celia was looking over my shoulder when I opened the case, and she +surveyed my brown friends with interest. + +"When are you going to smoke _that_ one?" she asked, touching Torpedo +Jimmy's cummerbund with the tip of her finger. + +"On your birthday," I said. + +"Bother, then I shan't see much of you. Couldn't you smoke it on two +ordinary days instead?" + +"You can only smoke a cigar that size after a very good dinner," I +explained. + +"What was the matter with the tapioca pudding last night?" said Celia +sternly. + +"I mean you must have champagne and bands and lots of lights, and +managers bowing all round you, and pretty people in the distance, +and--all that sort of thing. You can't do that at home. Besides, I shall +want a waiter or two to hold the far end of it while I'm smoking. It'll +be all right going there; we can put it on the top of a cab." + +"Of course it will be lovely going out with you," said Celia, "but Jane +will be very disappointed. She'd have liked to hear it buzzing." + +"I hope it won't buzz," I said. + +"Couldn't you smoke it now, and then we'd go out next week and celebrate +your recovery." She sighed. "My birthday's a long way off," she said +wistfully, thinking of the band and the lights and the pretty people in +the distance--and not necessarily in the distance either. + +"Well, p'raps we'll think of another excuse. Anyhow it will be a very +great day, and if I survive we shall often look back upon it." + +Celia stroked it again. + +"It's just like a torpedo, isn't it?" she said. And so we called it +Torpedo Jimmy. A torpedo is actually a little bit bigger. Not much, +however. + +That was July. When August came we knew that there would be no excuse +before the birthday and that the birthday would be no excuse. The great +dinner was postponed. It didn't matter, because we forgot about the +great dinner. + +But towards the end of September Celia came across the sample case +again. All the beds were empty now but one. Torpedo James still lay in +his four-poster, brown and inscrutable. + +"Better put him away," she said, "and on the day that peace is signed +you can take us both out." + +And so Torpedo Jimmy became a symbol. The more I long for peace, the +more I long for that historic smoke. When Louisa's brother or Nora's +uncle has a long pessimistic talk with KITCHENER, then I look sadly at +my cigar; but when FRENCH and JOFFRE unbend to Vera's stepfather or +Beryl's cousin and give him words of cheer, then I take it out and pinch +it fondly, and already I see the waiter coming round with a torch to +light it. + +I have been looking at it to-day, and I see that it is giving a little +at one end. I fancy that the moth has been getting at it. Well, if it +does not last till peace is signed, it will be a peace that I shall not +believe in. For a stable peace, as all our eminent novelists keep +pointing out in all the papers, many things are necessary, and one of +them is that I should smoke my cigar happily on the first night of it. +Torpedo Jimmy must do himself justice. No premature explosions; no moths +flying out from the middle of it; no unauthorised ventilation. The exact +moment must be chosen by the Allies. My cigar must be ripe ... and yet +not too ripe. + +Celia says she is sure it will be just lovely. So sure is she that she +suggests hanging the cigar in the hall and tapping it to see how the war +is going. "When it taps exactly right, then we shall know the war is +just over." + +But I think we shall know that anyhow. EDWARD GREY will break it to +Beryl's nephew all right; Celia will climb down off her parcel and rush +home to me with the news; I shall ring up the restaurant and order +dinner ... and at eight o'clock, in great spirits, we shall get into our +taxi and drive off together--Celia and I and Torpedo Jimmy. + + A. A. M. + + * * * * * + +SOME FACTS ABOUT THE WAR + +(_An essay in the prevailing mode_). + +The actual cost of hostilities has been estimated by reliable +authorities at the enormous sum of L143,468 0_s._ 0-1/2_d._ _per diem_ +for this country alone. The odd halfpenny presumably represents the cost +of an evening edition bought by the official contradictor in the +exercise of his duties. + + * * * + +Amongst the (more or less) skilled industries that have been gravely +affected by the outbreak of hostilities must now be placed the making of +prophetic fiction. It is calculated that the number of novels dealing +with _The Next Great War_ that have had to be scrapped must run well +into four figures. + + * * * + +On the other hand, the number of novelists who will in the future begin +their Historical Romances, "It was in the late summer of 1914," is +beyond human calculation. + + * * * + +In view of the reported insurance of Westminster Abbey against damage by +air-craft, a correspondent asks what steps are being taken towards the +illumination of the Albert Memorial. + + * * * + +It is at least odd that Olympia should have been selected as the Ideal +Home for our Undesirable Aliens. The last German production in the same +building was _The Miracle_. Many of the interned are said to be +expecting another. + + * * * * * + + "Mrs. Mallaby Deeley is doing good work in securing withers for + horses." + + _Harrow Observer._ + +And now every horse which goes to the Front can be certain of having its +own withers. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _First Lady_ (_horrified at bright scarlet muffler for +Navy, the creation of second lady_). "MY DEAR--THE COLOUR! IT'LL MAKE A +TARGET FOR THE GERMANS!" + +_Second Lady._ "OH! THEN IT'LL HAVE TO DO FOR THE STOKER." + + * * * * * + +THE LADY'S WALK. + + I know a Manor by the Thames; + I've seen it oft through beechen stems + In leafy Summer weather; + We've moored the punt its lawns beside + Where peacocks strut in flaunting pride, + The Muse and I together. + + There I have seen the shadows grow + Gigantic, as the sun sinks low, + Leaving forlorn the dial; + When zephyrs in the borders stir, + Distilling stock and lavender + To fill some fairy's phial. + + There, when the dusk joins hands with night, + (I like to think the story's right-- + I had it from the Rector-- + Still, don't believe unless you choose!) + Doth walk, between the shapen yews, + A little pretty spectre, + + The Lady Rose, a well-born maid + Whose true-love in this garden glade-- + A bold, if faithless, fellow-- + Had loved, but left her for the sake + Of venturing with FRANKIE DRAKE, + And died at Puerto Bello; + + While she--poor foolish loving Rose-- + Of heart-break, so the story goes, + Died very shortly after, + One day--as Art requires--when Spring + Had set the hawthorns blossoming + And waked the lanes to laughter. + + And so adown these alleys dim, + Where oft she'd kept a tryst with him, + She nightly comes a-roaming; + And, sorrowing still, yet finds content, + I fancy, where "Sweet Themmes" is blent + With flower-beds and the gloaming. + + Ah me, the leaf is down to-day; + Does still the little phantom stray, + Poor pretty ghost, a-shiver, + When sad flowers droop their weary heads + Along the chill Autumnal beds + Beside the misty river? + + Or does it, at the year's decline-- + As sensible as Proserpine-- + When Autumn skies do harden, + Go down and coax the seeds to grow + Till daffodillies stand a-row + And April's in the garden? + + I cannot tell; what's more, I doubt + We've other things to think about + This sorrowful November; + I only know for such sad hours + That dainty ghosts and Summer flowers + Are pleasant to remember. + + * * * * * + +The Absolute Limit. + + "The directors of the Bradford Club have reviewed the position in + regard to the free admission of soldiers to the ground, the number + of men thus admitted having been far greater than was anticipated. + It has now been decided that men in uniform or bearing other + credentials of service shall be admitted to section E on payment of + the nominal sum of 3d. This will prevent the jostling of the + ordinary patrons."--_Bradford Daily Telegraph._ + +A cruiser here and there may be sunk, a regiment here and there may be +cut up, but thank God our Bradford football patrons will never again be +jostled by any of these vulgar soldiers in uniform. + + * * * * * + +Notice in a Battersea window:-- + + "BRIDE CAKES + ANY SIZE +TO SUIT ALL POCKETS." + +In these days of narrow skirts most women will find the guinea size +sufficient. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: FACTS FROM THE FRONT. + +TACTICAL USE, BY THE ENEMY, OF THE MORE RESILIENT UNITS OF THE LANDSTURM +FOR NEGOTIATING BELGIAN DYKES. + + * * * * * + +OUR LITERARY WAR LORDS. + + ["The other day the enemy's artillery fire on my battery was so + great that we were forced to take cover. I sat crouched in my + 'funk-hole' for seventeen solid hours. Luckily I had Jacobs's 'Sea + Urchins' with me, which I read to the accompaniment of screaming and + bursting shells." + + _Officer in the Royal Field Artillery._] + +_Mr. Punch_, while remarking that he is not surprised that the shells +screamed in the circumstances, begs to assure his readers that, if the +following information corresponds with the facts, Mr. Jacobs is not the +only author who has been solacing our troops in the trenches. + +Miss Carrie Morelli writes: "There has so far been no public mention of +any books of mine being read in the trenches and affording solace to our +gallant troops. This, however, is because all the reports from the Front +come from men, and men are notoriously jealous of feminine activity in +literature as elsewhere. I have no doubt in my own mind that many a +soldier in action has been cheered by hurried glances at my novels, a +list of which can be forwarded on application." + +An unsigned letter from the Isle of Man states that the writer, who +rightly wishes to remain anonymous, possesses a copy of a novel of +astonishing genius, in which a German bullet is embedded. This book, it +seems, was the inseparable companion of a soldier in the 3rd Manx +Highlanders, who carried it always next his heart, and in its position +in that intimate and honoured spot it saved his life. The writer, who +confesses to being the author of the novel in question, states that he +would divulge both his own name and that of the title of the book but +that his objection to publicity amounts to a mania. + +The publishers of _The Orangery_, by Mrs. Markley, write to inform us of +an astounding incident which throws a new and sensational light on the +campaign in the Western Theatre of War. It appears that at a critical +moment during the great effort of the Germans to break through the left +flank of the Allies, General VON KLUCK absolutely refused to see or +consult with his Staff for the space of three hours. It subsequently +transpired that a copy of _The Orangery_, which had been found in the +knapsack of a British prisoner, had come into the General's possession +and so absolutely enthralled him that he abandoned all thought of +strategy or tactics until he had finished its perusal. Owing to the +extraordinary power of Mrs. Markley's genius the German advance was +paralysed, and the Allies, resuming the offensive, drove the enemy back +in confusion, with results which have vitally affected the progress of +the campaign. + +Mr. ARNOLD BENNETT has just received a remarkable letter from a British +marine who was recently landed on the coast of Flanders. The writer +describes how, as he was reading one of Mr. BENNETT'S recent articles on +the war in a carefully excavated trench, a "Jack Johnson" shell +descended directly over him, but was suddenly diverted by the article, +and soared away at right angles, bursting with a terrific chuckle at a +safe distance. + + * * * * * + +Latest War News. + +Turkey has now joined the "Sossidges"--a trifle earlier in the year than +usual. + + * * * * * + +We understand that Pietermaritzburg will shortly change its name to +Petrobothagrad. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE EXCURSIONIST. + +_Scene_: TICKET OFFICE AT ---- (_censored_). + +TRIPPER WILHELM. "FIRST CLASS TO PARIS." CLERK. "LINE BLOCKED." + +WILHELM. "THEN MAKE IT WARSAW." CLERK. "LINE BLOCKED." + +WILHELM. "WELL, WHAT ABOUT CALAIS?" CLERK. "LINE BLOCKED." + +WILHELM. "HANG IT! I _MUST_ GO _SOMEWHERE_! I PROMISED MY PEOPLE I WOULD." + + * * * * * + +BRITAIN TO BELGIUM. + + Sister, for the tears that thou hast shed, + Sister, for thy dear undying dead, + For the sons thou hast not grudged to give, + Loyally, that Liberty might live; + Sister, for the little child + Dead beside a hearth defiled-- + Do I dream my love alone + Can atone? + + Can I bring again the brave that fell + When thy heaven crumbled into hell? + Can I banish from before thine eyes + Haunting visions under haggard skies? + Blazing home and blackened plain, + Can I make them fair again? + Can I ever heal thy smart, + Broken Heart? + + Sister, we be women, thou and I; + Sorrow's craving who can satisfy? + None may pay thee back so dear a loss, + Only let me help to bear thy cross. + Sick and hungry in their need + Let me succour, let me feed; + Little Sister, freely take + For their sake. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: "'HE'S AS WILLING AS A CHRISTIAN; STRIKE ME BLIND IF HE +ISN'T', SAID SIKES." + +_Oliver Twist_, Chap. xvi. + +(_With apologies to the late Fred Barnard._) + + * * * * * + +AS OTHERS WISH TO SEE US. + +The ingenious German device of writing private letters to English +friends filled with German justifications of the War and news of the +gaiety and normal prosperity of Berlin is now being carried farther, and +extracts from private letters purporting to be addressed by English +people to German friends have begun to be printed in the Berlin papers. +Here follows an illustration of this type of composition:-- + +My dear friend,--I am sure you will like to hear from me, especially as +I am in a position to enlighten you as to the deplorable condition of +things in England under the fear of the Mailed Fist and forebodings of +the worst. For it is only too true that all the best and most +knowledgable people here have thrown up the sponge and are prepared for +the inevitable. + +A private letter is probably the only means of communicating the real +situation to you, for the English papers of course do not tell the +truth. In fact you must believe nothing they say, for there is a great +conspiracy here to maintain the fiction that we are high-spirited, eager +and confident. Everything is done to foster that illusion. + +BERNHARDI'S great book has been translated and is being largely sold, +and it is awful to watch the faces of the people reading it--how they +blanch and quiver. It is curious, you might think, that they read it at +all; but you know the dread fascination of the snake for the +humming-bird. The bird sees its doom, but cannot escape, and in fact +draws nearer. + +Would you believe it of this nation, so famous for its phlegm, that at +the outset of the war there was such a panic among our intellectuals +that they could not write prose at all, but all the papers were full of +rhyme? As you know, there is no sign of hysteria more trustworthy than +this. + +You may have heard that recruiting has been brisk and keen, but do not +believe this. Only by huge bribes have men been induced to join at all. +The finances of the country are being taxed to the utmost to find the +extra "palm-oil" which these mercenaries demand. + +The Birmingham factories are feverishly busy making dum-dum and +explosive bullets. + +You may have gathered from the papers that football goes on as usual. +This is so, outwardly, but as a matter of fact the games are played with +no spirit and are kept going wholly by force applied by the Government, +whose aim is thus to suggest a feeling of security in the country. A few +misguided people, who completely misunderstand the situation, hold that +footballers should go to the Front and fight; but the Government take a +more prudent view and will not allow this, holding that their agility +on the field in League Matches and so forth is of high service as an +anodyne and distraction. I have heard of more than one case of a +well-known herculean player, accustomed not only to big money but +applause and hero-worship, seriously wondering if fighting were not his +real duty and if he ought not to make a bolt for the Front, but being +compelled to acquiesce in the Government's plans and go on drawing his +salary for the public pursuit of an air-bladder. This shows you to what +a pass things have come. + +There are also hundreds of young actors in London alone who are being +forcibly kept in the country to go on entertaining and playing the fool +for the same sedative purpose. These youths are all healthy and fit, but +it is held that their true function is to work in the theatres and halls +to beguile the audiences and divert their thoughts from the terrible +reality of German invasion. With each step that the Germans draw nearer +the mummers redouble their efforts to excite laughter. Thus did NERO +fiddle. + +The terror produced by your nerve-racking Zeppelins is constant. Hardly +a soul is now to be seen in the streets of London. Everyone is below the +earth, in the Tubes and subways, which are packed by white and trembling +crowds. Every cellar is congested, the top floors having been wholly +abandoned. As a sign of the times I may tell you that a Company, called +the Aerated Dread Co., has been formed to provide iron suits for those +who can afford them, and on the Board of Directors are both the PRIME +MINISTER and Sir EDWARD GREY. So awful is the agitation from which +everyone here is suffering under the Zeppelin menace that the noise of a +tyre bursting in the street often prostrates as many as forty +passers-by. + +No more to-day, my friend. I will write again soon and add to the +melancholy picture of a once powerful nation shuddering with craven +fears. + +Give my love to your dear children. + +Your devoted K---- L----. + + * * * * * + + "On the sea dyke the Germans have posted heavy artillery.... They + have also posted gunes in the dunes."--_South Wales Echo._ + +This settles us. We shall now begin our War Poem. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: FROM THE RECRUIT'S POINT OF VIEW. + +_Sergeant._ "FORM FOURS!" "AS YOU WERE! FORM FOURS!!" "_As you were!!_ +FORM FOURS!!!" "***!!! *****!!!!" + + * * * * * + +ARCHIBONG. + + [Encouraged by the example of some eminent followers of TYRTAEUS, + _Mr. Punch_ has great pleasure in printing the following topical + soldiers' song, composed by one of his young men after reading about + a British force that seized Archibong in the Cameroons.] + + O we're marching on to good old Archibong; + And we're going most particularly strong; + For our beef is really "bully," + And they feed us very fully-- + Yes, the feeding's fit for any restaurong, + _Tres bong_, + Fit for any fust-class London restaurong. + + What's the matter with the road to Archibong? + We didn't come out here to play ping-pong + Or to get up a gymkhana-- + But we'll all have a banana + When we've driven back the Proosians to Hong Kong, + Ding-dong, + When we've driven back the Proosians to Hong Kong. + + What's the matter with the town of Archibong? + It isn't quite as lively as Boulong; + But the name is very tuneful-- + Yes, I'll have another spoonful, + For I never liked my soda-water strong; + It's wrong + For a man to drink his soda-water strong. + + Then here's a parting cheer to Archibong, + Where the natives play divinely on the gong; + It's not so cool and airy + As the town of Tipperary, + But it's just as good for tittuping along + In a song, + It's just as good for tittuping along. + + * * * * * + +SCALPED. + +From Battalion Orders of a certain regiment:-- + + "The Brigadier-General regrets that the 5th are noticeable + throughout the brigade for the long, slovenly and unkempt condition + of men's hair. The Commanding Officer considers that this reflects + on the credit of the battalion and directs Company Commanders to + take immediate steps to have this slight removed for good and all." + + * * * * * + +WHAT'S IN A HYPHEN? + +From a cinema advertisement:-- + +"THE TWO-STEP CHILDREN (DRAMA)." + +It sounds rather more like Musical Comedy. + + * * * * * + + "Between them the vessels of the Allies succeeded in destroying a + German battery of field artillery, dispersed a German bridging train + collected to force the passage of the Yser, blew up an ammunition + column, killed General von Tripp, expressed pleasure at the Russians + winning in Galicia, and even regarded it as compensation for his + wound."--_Aberdeen Free Press._ + +Is there anything the Fleet _can't_ do? + + * * * * * + +LITTLE AND GOOD. + + Young Thompson was a bit too short, + But hard as nails and level-headed, + And in his soul the proper sort + Of dogged pluck was deeply bedded; + To join the ranks he almost ran, + But saw the weedy supersede him; + Though he was every inch a man, + His country didn't need him. + + He read each passionate appeal + On wall and window, cab and cart; + How impotent they made him feel! + He tried once more, though sick at heart. + In vain! He saw the sergeants smirk; + He argued, but they wouldn't heed him; + So sullenly trudged back to work-- + His country didn't need him. + + But, now the standard height's curtailed, + Again he goes to join the ranks; + Though yesterday he tried and failed + To-day they welcome him with thanks. + Apparently he's just as small, + But, since his size no more impedes him, + In spirit he is six foot tall-- + Because his country needs him. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: T. B. D. + +_Officer's Steward._ "WILL YOU TAKE YOUR BATH, SIR, BEFORE OR AFTER +HACTION?" + + * * * * * + +THE MYSTERY OF PRINCE ----. + +We seek information of the present whereabouts of Prince ---- of ----. + +Some few weeks ago the news came that he was carried wounded into a +Brussels hospital, with a velvet mask over his face, so that none might +recognise him. The PRINCE was visited in hospital by a tall man, also +heavily masked, but not so heavily as to conceal a pair of soaring +moustaches, freshly waxed. None dared speculate as to Who this Visitor +might be. The hush was tremendous. The Visitor silently pinned on the +patient a specimen of the Iron Cross and as silently left. + +It was the 37000th Iron Cross bestowed since the outbreak of war. + +At the autopsy it was proved conclusively that the bullet inside the +PRINCE was of German origin. + +After the post-mortem the PRINCE was luckily captured by the Belgians, +and held at Antwerp as hostage for the good behaviour of the German +troops occupying Brussels. + +When the fall of Antwerp became imminent the PRINCE was secretly removed +to England. A fortnight ago he was seen in a motor-car driving round +Battersea Park, accompanied and guarded by an English officer. + +The PRINCE wore his saxe-blue full-dress tunic, his corn-gold moustache +and his rather stout face, and was looking considerably depressed. + +Since that date no word has come of him. The Censor seems to have +rigidly suppressed all evidence of his movements. + +Is the PRINCE kept prisoner on a trawler sweeping the North Sea for +mines? Has he escaped in the German submarine which ventured up the +Thames as far as the lower end of Fleet Street? Or is he interned in the +searchlight apparatus at Charing Cross to insure it against attack by +Zeppelins? + +We seek exact information. + + * * * * * + + "As regards the quality of this beverage, he said he was at a loss + to know on what grounds they called it coffee."--_Daily Mail._ + +Coffee grounds, no doubt. + + * * * * * + +JOURNALISTIC CANDOUR. + + "There comes a time when no responsible organ of public opinion can + keep silence without sacrificing the tacit obligation under which it + lies to its readers."--_The Globe._ + +We are glad to note that in the same article there is a subsequent and +reassuring reference to our contemporary's "well-deserved reputation for +straightforwardness and accuracy." + + * * * * * + +The author of _Secrets of the German War Office_ writes of the German +FOREIGN MINISTER'S "atrocious taste in waistcoats":-- + + "The one he had on still sticks in my memory. It was a lurid + peach-blossom creation, spotted with greed." + +It is to guard against this that so many of his compatriots tuck their +napkins in at their necks. + + * * * * * + +AN ESCAPED PRISONER. + +It was summertime, years ago, in the early days of the war. + +Having distributed myself quite satisfactorily within a hammock, I had +just decided that nothing short of invasion or the luncheon bell should +disturb me, when my flapper niece shot forth in my direction from the +French windows of the morning-room. + +In one hand she flourished an empty birdcage and in the other what +proved to be a tin of enormous hemp seeds. + +"Wake up!" she cried as she approached rapidly through the near +distance. "The precious Balaam has escaped! The brute must have got out +while I was fetching his clean water, and the windows were _wide_ open!" + +The prospect of a canary hunt across country with a temperature at 80 +degrees in the shade positively made me shiver. + +"Your father is the man to catch it for you, Eileen," I suggested. "He's +most awfully good at catching things. I--er think he's somewhere on the +tennis-court." + +"He's not, because he was splashing about in the bathroom just now when +I wanted to fill Balaam's water-bottle." + +"All right," I said resignedly, "I'll come. Was Balaam the man or the +ass? I forget. And while we're at it why should you call the bird Balaam +at all?" + +Eileen was in no mood for foolish questionings. + +"Get up!" she ordered. "I call him Balaam because he's not a proper +canary--he's a mule." + +"Then I am not at all sure," I began hopefully, "that I can countenance +the keeping of mules in birdcages! Should the Society for the Prevention +of Cruelty to Animals get to hear of it, they would certainly----" + +"There he is!" interrupted Eileen shrilly as something yellowish flew +jerkily across a neighbouring cabbage bed. "That's Balaam! Take the +cage. I'll wait here in case he comes back!" + +By the time I had reached the further end of the cabbage bed I was just +in time to see a tawny bird vanish over a hedge, flop tantalisingly +across the road and disappear among the branches of an apple-tree on the +other side. + +What I now see to have been a mistaken idea of my duty towards Eileen +led me painfully through two hedges to the foot of the tree in whose +branches Balaam the Mule was possibly enjoying the first-fruits of his +liberty. + +In vain I produced vocal effects calculated to charm away the love of +travel from the breast of any canary; then, as Balaam persistently +refused to come to me, I proceeded slowly but surely, and accompanied by +the cage, to make my way to him. + +Whether tree-climbing shares the same age limit as that assigned to +recruits, or whether the cage was too severe a handicap, I don't know, +but halfway up I somehow found myself marooned on an obviously +inadequate branch. + +For several minutes I balanced uncertainly. Then someone began to pass +along the road beyond the hedge. As it seemed probable that their owner +might prove of use to me, I hailed the footsteps with a shout. + +The footsteps stopped and I shouted again. + +This time there was a faint scream in answer and a mauve-and-white +bonnet bobbed agitatedly up the road. + +After a few more minutes of delicate and masterly balancing I was +relieved to hear the approach of quite a number of people from the other +side of the orchard. + +Evidently the mauve-and-white bonnet had thoroughly realized my perilous +position, for my rescuers seemed to include almost the entire village. +Even the Vicar was there, armed with an assegai--no doubt a missionary +trophy. It was thoughtful of them to have turned out in such numbers to +rescue a mere visitor, but still one ploughman with a ladder would have +been ample. + +Soon words floated up to me from the mouth of the leading rescuer. "I'll +learn him!" he was saying with fervour. "I'll learn him to come +German-spying round my orchard!" + +Balaam or no Balaam, I drew the line at being assegaied to death as a +Teuton spy, so I dropped the cage with a bang and, clinging to the end +of my branch, I at last succeeded in gaining the ground in moderate +safety. + +When I had finished explaining about Balaam, they were convinced, though +evidently disappointed. + +"You see," explained the Vicar, prodding the apple-tree regretfully with +his assegai, "poor Miss Tittlepatter said that she had been attacked by +German spies from this very orchard." + +At the third prod of the Vicar's assegai, a brown-and-yellow bird flew +self-consciously from the top of the apple-tree and perched in full view +on a five-barred gate. + +"There he is!" I hissed, moving stealthily forward with the remains of +the birdcage. "There's Balaam the canary!" + +"Kenary!" contemptuously remarked the rescuer who had been so anxious to +undertake the education of Teutonic spies. "That ain't no kenary; that's +a bloomin' yellow'ammer!" + + * * * + +When, a dishevelled wreck, I reached my own gateway, I was met in the +drive by Eileen. + +"It's all right after all," she remarked cheerfully. "The stupid bird +was on the curtain pole all the time. So lucky, because, if he _had_ got +out, it would have meant an awful bother. And, I say, is it true that +they've caught a German spy down in the village?" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Salesman._ "NO, SIR, NEITHER OF THESE MASKS WAS MADE IN +GERMANY." + + * * * * * + +In aid of the Arts Fund for the relief of the many members of the +artistic professions who are in distress owing to the War, a _Matinee_ +under the patronage of QUEEN ALEXANDRA will be given at the Royal Opera +House, Covent Garden, on Thursday, Nov. 5, at 3 o'clock. Mr. THOMAS +BEECHAM will produce Bach's _Phoebus and Pan_, and Mr. GRANVILLE +BARKER will produce _Philip the King_, a new play by Mr. JOHN MASEFIELD. +_Mr. Punch_ very heartily commends the cause to his readers. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: + +_Huntsman._ "BLANKETY-BLANK THAT BLOOMIN' KAISER! I WISH MY 'OUNDS 'AD +'IM!" + +_Farmer._ "WHAT'S 'E BIN DOIN' TO YOU NOW, JACK?" + +_Huntsman._ "DOIN'? JUST LOOK AT THE 'OSSES 'E'S LEFT US TO RIDE!" + + * * * * * + +NOTES BY A WAR-DOG. + +Now I don't want to snarl at the Cause--whatever it may be--but it isn't +all beef-bones and country walks by any means. I first became aware of +it about the same time the Dachshund at the corner house began to +declare he was an Aberdeen Terrier. From that time on I scented +something wrong, though could never quite dig it out. For one thing, the +parrot began to practise a new phrase about "Down with the KAI...!" and +also "_Veeve_" the something or other. Then Mabel--who does absurd +things but has to be tolerated because she waits upon me--started tying +coloured ribbons in my hair, and later sticking little flags in my +collar; but I put a stop to that. A week ago things came to a head, and +don't look like improving. + +For the last five years my daily life has been brightened in manner +following. We live next door to a railway station and a pastry-cook's. +Every morning Mabel gives me a round hard thing she calls a penny, and +very slippery to hold in one's mouth. I carry the penny to the +pastry-cook's. The girl takes it and gives me a currant biscuit in +exchange. Sometimes there are people in the shop, and then I gaze upon +them meltingly. If they are the right sort, they melt--according to +their means; usually it's pastry. The rest of the day I spend loafing +about the station _and_ the pastry-cook's. Now all that is changed. + +Last Thursday Mabel took me to a Committee, a place full of typewriters +and ladies; and I was registered--so they said; Mabel being given a +sheet of paper all over scribble, and a wooden box with "War Relief +Fund" on it. "On Monday, dear," said Mabel, "you begin." + +I have begun. Would you believe it? I had to wear that beastly box tied +to my collar! Retrievers, I know, are used to that sort of thing; but +I'm a Collie. All that day I hung about on my old beat, and every now +and then somebody gushed and called me silly names, and dropped a penny +into my box. Conceive the hideous mockery of my position! By four +o'clock there was I sitting outside that confectioner's, wearing enough +pennies to buy the shop out, and yet not a Bath bun to the good! + +But that wasn't the worst. About five an urchin came along, looked at +mo, grinned, and tried to put something in my box. Clumsy little beast, +he trod on my foot. I sprang forward with a growl, and his offering, +whatever it was, rolled on the pavement. Round turned an old lady, and, +"Oh you wicked boy," she cried, "trying to put buttons in the hospital +box! No wonder the dog growled, sensible creature." She began fumbling +with her purse, and I was certain I saw a macaroon in her eye. "There," +she said, "there's half-a-crown for you, Doggie, dear," and, before I +could stop her, put it in the box. I could have bitten her. + +Yesterday an old gentleman stopped to stare at me, and, absent-mindedly +putting his hand in his pocket, brought out something rather like a +penny, but smaller and bright yellow, and dropped it into the box. The +very next moment he gave a violent start, looked wildly about him, +turned the colour of cold veal, and muttering, "Lord bless my soul ... +what have I done?... thought it was only" ... made a clumsy grab at my +collar. Of course I knew what he was after; he wanted my pennies; so I +just ambled off, and very soon outdistanced him. An Airedale, I suppose, +would have held him till the police arrived, but I'm a Collie. + +That very same afternoon, wandering about the station, I chanced to +saunter into the ticket-office. The clerk's a man with a very +well-regulated mind. He gives me chocolate. Just then, however, he was +out, but his three-year-old boy-puppy was there sitting on a table all +covered with bits of cardboard and little piles of pennies, ordinary +brown ones, big white ones and a few little yellow ones. Well, in less +time than it takes to cock your ears, that baby was shovelling pennies +through the slit in my box and chuckling with joy. I stood it as long as +I could, and then, in the nick of time, snatched a big white penny out +of his paw and bolted off to the confectioner's. Imagine my astonishment +when the girl actually refused to serve me! "Oh, Scottie," she cried, +"there must be some mistake; I _know_ your mistress wouldn't give you a +two-shilling piece." + + * * * + +I thought Mabel was going to be ill when she felt the weight of my box. +She dragged me off that very afternoon to the Committee, and when they +discovered I'd collected seven pounds ten in three days the idiotic +things they said about me beat anything in my experience since the time +I killed the mouse in the conservatory. But I will say Mabel did the +right thing by me at the pastry-cook's. + +She's going to take me to a Church Bazaar to-morrow. But I doubt if a +bazaar can beat that ticket-office. + + * * * * * + +HERBERT. + +"I haven't introduced Herbert to you yet, have I?" + +Stella-my-niece spoke with her eyes on the matinee hat before her, and +concluded, _a propos_ of the hat, though at first I feared of +Herbert--"I do hope and pray that it will come off. Hip! Hip! She's +pulling out pins." + +"I had no idea there was--a Herbert." + +"Oh, Nunckle! and you're responsible for the fact that he's mine at +all!" + +"I responsible?" + +"Well, but for you I never might have seen him even; and I'm sure there +isn't another like Herbert in the whole round world. Everyone wants +him." + +Presently I enquired when she proposed to introduce this paragon to the +person responsible for him. + +"I've got him here to-day." + +I looked at her in pained silence, for Stella-my-niece, calmly fishing +for "hard ones" in a chocolate box, was, as it were, sheltered under the +lee of a long-haired gentleman who occupied rather more than double +half-a-crown's worth of red velvet seat. + +"There?" I whispered, pointing to the long-haired gentleman who +neighboured her, and wondering what her mother would have to say about +it all. + +Stella-my-niece smiled. + +"Do you imagine that I should bring Herbert into the pit?" + +"Point him out to me." + +"I can't. Now they're going to begin!" She snuggled down into her place +and invited me to do likewise in my own as the curtain rose and revealed +the legs of one of our leading actor-managers, and the audience clapped, +hoping for more. "Now we're going to enjoy ourselves! Don't forget to +hold my hand if anything pops." + +Stella-my-niece has made it a stern rule that we are not to talk during +the Acts, contriving to telegraph her appreciation of most things by +fervent clutches at my arm; but to-day the effects of this salutary +regulation were spoilt for me by Herbert. My attention wandered. + +"Is he an actor?" I asked sternly, as the lights leaped up again. + +"Which do you mean? I think they were all perfect darlings in that +scene." + +"Why, Herbert, of course." + +"HERBERT--Sir HERBERT? He isn't in this, is he? I didn't see anyone +looking as bored as he does. Hunt him up in the programme--it's down +there under your boots." + +"I didn't mean TREE. I meant Herbert--your Herbert." + +"My Herbert?" Stella-my-niece opened her mouth showing astonishment and +very pretty teeth. + +"Yes, your Herbert. He's an actor fellow, isn't he?" + +"No, he's an umbrella--my new umbrella. I bought him with the sovereign +you sent me for my birthday, and he is such a darling! I felt he ought +to have a name of his own, so I called him Herbert. He looks like that." + +"A girl's name--Maud, for instance, only one doesn't use them in the +garden much----" + +"A girl's name, like Pauline, may suit your fountain pen, and Dad may +call the motor 'Mary Jane' when he's pleased with how he's mended her; +but I decided I would have a man's. It sounds better to say, 'Herbert is +seeing me home, thank you.' The sad thing is that I'm sure I shan't keep +him long; he's so pretty. When he's waiting for me in umbrella-stands I +feel nervous, and in trains. He's so unique--so utterly unlike anyone +else's umbrella. I know you'll love him." + +I did as soon as ever I saw him coming out of the cloak-room hanging on +her arm. There was a gentle coyness in the turn of Herbert's handle, a +nutty daintiness about his little gold tie which made me look +involuntarily for his socks. + +"Now, you wait and see if someone doesn't try to run off with him before +we get home," said Stella-my-niece. "I'll hold him on a long lead so +that people will think he's out by himself, and we'll await +developments." + +We settled ourselves by tact and firmness in a crowded _apres matinee_ +'bus, and Stella-my-niece, having set down all her belongings the better +to persuade the programme to ride inside her pocket, took Herbert by his +long tassels, leaving him leaning against the seat between herself and +her neighbour, a lady with many trimmings and a book. + +"I hope she'll go before we do," said Stella-my-niece in my ear. "I sort +of feel that she'll try to take Herbert." + +She did; as she read, her hand reached out and took a grip upon +Herbert's immaculate head! Stella-my-niece stifled a squeak of pure +excitement. + +"Oxford Street," announced the conductor dispassionately, and the +trimmed lady shut her book and rose to get out. Stella-my-niece, holding +Herbert by his tassels, smiled indulgently. + +"You have my umbrella, I'm afraid," she said sweetly. "It is such a very +uncommon one that I simply couldn't be mistaken." + +The trimmed lady looked round; so did everyone in the 'bus. Then she +pointed to a slim object propped against the seat between +Stella-my-niece's blue skirt and my own striped garments. + +"That's yours by the gentleman; they're just the same pattern." + +So they were! + + * * * + +As Stella-my-niece said afterwards at tea, the worst of it was that it +proved that Herbert wasn't quite unique; at the best he was a twin. I +think that privately we thought him something worse than a triplet, but +we neither knew quite how to say it. Anyhow, all the Herberts are +fascinating. + + * * * * * + +THE UNIVERSAL WAR. + + "Into this gap the Germans placed a number of gnus--six or + eight."--_People._ + +The "Gorilla Warfare" (mentioned last week) having failed, the enemy +tries a new dodge. But the Allies remain unalarmed. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: LATEST DEVICE OF THE ENEMY. + +LEARNING TO SING "IT'S A LONG, LONG WAY TO TIPPERARY" FOR THE PURPOSE OF +DECEIVING THE ALLIES. + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +If, as is just conceivable, the Teuton braggart fails to convert the +universe into a German empire, his downfall will be partly due to his +lack of humour. Among the things that go to make this saving grace are +an agile imagination and a nice sense of proportion, and it is when a +man starts lying about himself that he shows most clearly whether or not +he has it. Some weeks ago an "Honorary Committee of thirty-four +distinguished" (or, if you will, notorious) "Germans and a Board of +Editors," eleven strong, gathered together to concoct an epoch-making +fib, which, upon completion, was labelled "The Truth about Germany: +Facts about the War", and was circulated, secretly but thoroughly, +throughout the United States. The Forty-five Liars content themselves +with a methodical misstatement of every fact, disregarding all the +evidence, and, indeed, their own diplomatists' admissions, to the +contrary. There is no ingenious perversion of the truth, no subtle +invention of argument and no appeal whatever to the intelligence of the +reader; it is from beginning to end heavy and quite incredible bosh. +Though it was never intended to be read in this country, Mr. DOUGLAS +SLADEN has been lucky or clever enough to secure a copy of it, which he +reproduces cheaply under the title _Germany's Great Lie_ (HUTCHINSON). I +congratulate him upon having obtained such excellent copy, but I think +he has somewhat spoilt the effect of it by the manner of his annotations +interposed in italics. His facts and quotations are apt and useful, but +his indignant denials and sarcastic epithets run to excess; every time +one reads the emphatic assertion that black is white one does not want +to have also to read that this is an amazing lie. I recommend the public +to consume every word of the text, but to omit the larger part of the +notes. + + * * * + +In the nature of things it is possible that the 1914 crop of gift-books +for boys may not be a bumper one as far as quantity is concerned, but +Mr. HENRY NEWBOLT has already removed any danger of a famine. Indeed, he +has done more than that, for, if quality can (as it should) be +considered a satisfactory substitute for bulk, there is no reason why +1914 should not be remembered as a year in which the palates of +discerning boys were most delightfully tickled. I find a difficulty in +preventing my congratulations upon _The Book of the Blue Sea_ (LONGMANS) +from being fulsome. To begin with, the title itself is simply +irresistible. Then, before you even get to the preface, there are some +verses, "The Song of the Larboard Berth," which cry "halt" so +arrestingly that after I had got by them and was fairly revelling in the +entrancing pages that follow I kept on going back to have another look +at + + "When moonlight flecks the cruiser's decks + And engines rumble slow ..." + +To a nicety Mr. NEWBOLT knows how to reproduce the spirit of the sea and +of adventure thereon, and whether he is writing of EDWARD PELLEW, JOHN +FRANKLIN, DAVID FARRAGUT, or of Trafalgar, it is only possible to escape +from his grip when he endeavours to be a little edifying. Boys may +conceivably resent this tendency to point out what they can see +extraordinarily well for themselves, but all the same they will admit +their heavy debt to him. _The Book of the Blue Sea_ (I must write that +again), excellently illustrated by Mr. NORMAN WILKINSON, had better be +confiscated forthwith by parents who do not wish their sons to become +sailors. And in the end I am left wondering whether the Admiralty, +overburdened by clamorous applicants, would not be wise to intern Mr. +NEWBOLT in one of those camps where no ink or paper is provided, +because, if he repeats this performance, we shall want a dozen new naval +colleges and hundreds and hundreds more ships. + + * * * + +_Shifting Sands_ (LANE) reads like a book with a purpose from which the +purpose has been by some oversight omitted. When a young person fails to +"find herself" (as the phrase used to go) there should surely be +provided some foil to her instability, either implicit in the behaviour +of other characters or expressed in the meditations of the author. Even +if the author only means to tell us that human life is all like this, +she ought at least to let us know that she means it. _Gabrielle Brenda_ +is presented to us by ALICE BIRKHEAD as a girl brought up in the remoter +parts of Cornwall by a father who was a semi-retired doctor and +something of a dreamer. She develops dramatic talent, and having become +engaged to her instructor gives him up to her younger sister for no +better reason apparently than that she has always been accustomed to +give that sister everything she wants. Afterwards _Gabrielle_ becomes +the secretary of a domineering little manufacturer in the Black Country +with expensive sons and daughters. She resists his proposals of marriage +and also the temptation to purloin his eldest daughter's _fiance_, and +then reverts to her original vocation, without finding on the stage +either satisfaction or any remarkable success. For I see no indication +that the offer of a fairly lucrative engagement in America, with which +the book ends, is regarded by the author as the golden moment of her +heroine's career. Altogether I am at a loss whether to learn from +_Shifting Sands_ the disadvantages of a haphazard education, the unfair +position of woman in the labour-market, or merely the irony of fate. And +this is a pity because, though the manner of the story is very episodic, +there are scenes and conversations of considerable vivacity and truth. + + * * * + +BARONESS ORCZY is to be congratulated on a distinctly ingenious idea. +Searching about her, no doubt, for a successor to the famous +_Pimpernel_, her attention was caught by a certain picture in the +WALLACE Collection, a picture everyone knows and admires for its +rollicking and adventurous high spirits. "Capital!" said she (as I +imagine it); "why not trace back the line of _Blakeney_, and make the +subject of this picture the ancestor from whom he inherited his +endearing qualities?" _The Laughing Cavalier_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) is +the result. Having thus divined the origin of the hero, I feel that any +further indication of his character would be almost superfluous. You +will certainly not find this new _Blakeney_ unworthy of his house. It is +perhaps something of a surprise to find him a mercenary in +seventeenth-century Holland; but the old touch is there. Thus, having +been hired by a gang of conspirators to abduct the sister of one of +them, who has overheard their plans for the slaying of the Stadtholder, +and keep her prisoner till the deed be done, what more _Blakeneyish_ +than that he should recognise in his captive the particular object of +his affections? or that, having abducted the girl according to +instructions received, he should presently be offered untold gold by her +distracted parent for her discovery and return. A faintly embarrassing +situation this, even for an ancestor of the elusive _Pimpernel_. How he +manages to turn it all to favour and romance you must allow Baroness +ORCZY to tell you herself. Incidentally, the appearance of the book at +this particular moment, and in spite (so the publishers inform me on a +slip) of the author's first resolve to postpone it, proves her to +possess something of the sporting spirit of her creation. Hero's luck to +them both! + + * * * + +A novelist creating a novelist-hero is on dangerous ground. If he be a +little less than perfectly sincere he runs risk of being pretentious, +fatuous even. But sincerity is just Mr. CHARLES MARRIOTT'S conspicuous +quality, and here in _The Unpetitioned Heavens_ (HUTCHINSON) it commands +a dexterous and fastidious workmanship. You'll find, if you read a scene +over again, that there's more, not less, in it than you thought. Mr. +MARRIOTT makes his characters alive by realisation of their subtleties +rather than of their obviousnesses, and that's a feat to which I doff my +beaver. The main theme, sensitively felt and developed, is a delicate +one--the love of a middle-aged woman for a man who is rapt in worship at +a distance of a younger woman, the other's friend. The manoeuvring of +the elder, which might easily have been vulgarised on the one hand or +devitalised on the other, just remains refreshingly and believably +human. Mr. MARRIOTT'S story is not a yarn, but a brocade of intricate +design and exquisite colouring. Let justice be done and _The +Unpetitioned Heavens_ fall to a wide circle of perceptive readers. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Amateur Constable_ (_Policeman's son_). "I ARREST YER ON +SUSPICION O' STEALIN' A RESERVOIR. ANY 'OLLERIN' 'LL BE TOOK DAHN AGIN +YER." + + * * * * * + +THE PATRIOT. + + "At Monday's meeting, Mr. H. H. Gibbs, J. P., the Chairman, + expressed the opinion that the town should not be so conspicuous at + night, as in the event of a Zeppelin raid Bognor might be mistaken + for Portsmouth."--_Southern Weekly News._ + +It would be small consolation to England, if Bognor Cinema Palace fell, +that Portsmouth Dockyard had been saved. + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +147, November 4, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, NOV 4, 1914 *** + +***** This file should be named 28470.txt or 28470.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/4/7/28470/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Neville Allen, +Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://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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