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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:47:43 -0700 |
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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/29518-8.txt b/29518-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9de5b50 --- /dev/null +++ b/29518-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1886 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol 150, +February 9, 1916, 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 150, February 9, 1916 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: July 27, 2009 [EBook #29518] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH/CHARIVARI, FEB 9, 1916 *** + + + + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Jonathan Ingram and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI + +VOL. 150 + +FEBRUARY 9, 1916 + + + + +[Illustration: _Tommy._ "'Ere, Ted, what's the matter?" _Ted_ +(_ex-plumber_). "Wy, I'm goin' back for me baynet, o' course."] + + * * * * * + +CHARIVARIA. + +The German claim that as the result of the Zeppelin raid "England's +industry to a considerable extent is in ruins" is probably based on the +fact that three breweries were bombed. To the Teuton mind such a +catastrophe might well seem overwhelming. + +* * * + +A possible explanation of the Government's action in closing the Museums +is furnished by the _Cologne Gazette_, which observes that "if one +wanted to find droves of Germans in London one had only to go to the +museums." But if the Government is closing them merely for purposes of +disinfection it might let us know. + +* * * + +Irritated by the pro-German conversation of one of the guests at an +American dinner-party the English butler poured the gravy over him. The +story is believed to have greatly annoyed the starving millionaires in +Berlin. They complain that their exiled fellow-countrymen get all the +luck. + +* * * + +Is the Office of Works feeding Germany? We have lately learned that no +bulbs are to be planted in the London parks this season; and almost +simultaneously we read in the _Frankfurter Zeitung_ a suggestion that, +as bulbs are so cheap owing to the falling-off in the English demand, +they should be used as food by the German housewife. What has Mr. +Harcourt to say about this? + +* * * + +Mr. Ted Heaton, a noted Liverpool swimmer, is acting as +sergeant-instructor to the Royal Fusiliers at Dover, and is expected to +have them in a short time quite ready for the trenches. + +* * * + +A London magistrate has ruled that poker is a game of chance. He was +evidently unacquainted with the leading case in America, where, on the +same point arising, the judge, the counsel and the parties adjourned for +a quiet game, and the defendant triumphantly demonstrated that it was a +game of skill. + +* * * + +In an article describing the wonders of modern French surgery Mrs. W. K. +Vanderbilt mentioned that she had watched an operation in which a part +of a man's rib was taken out and used as a jawbone. "Pooh!" said the +much-married general practitioner who read it, "that's as old as Adam." + +* * * + +A man who applied recently to be enlisted in the Royal Flying Corps as a +carpenter was medically rejected because he had a hammer toe. If he had +lost a nail we could have understood it. + +* * * + +The following letter has been received by the matron of an Indian +hospital:-- + + "Dear and fair Madam,-I have much pleasure to inform you that my + dearly unfortunate wife will be no longer under your care, she + having left this world for the next on the 27th ult. For your help + in this matter I shall ever remain grateful. Yours reverently, + ----." + +* * * + +A correspondent, anxious about etiquette, writes:--"Sir,--The other day +I offered my seat to the lady-conductor of a tramcar. Did I +right?--Yours truly, Noblesse Oblige." + +* * * + +It is stated that one of the principal items of discussion during the +new Session of the Prussian Diet will be a Supplementary War Bill. Some +of the members are expected to protest, on the ground that the present +War is quite sufficient, thank you. + + * * * * * + +INTELLECTUAL RETRENCHMENT. + +[The annual expenses that will be saved by the closing of the London +Museums and Galleries amount to about one-fifth of the public money +spent on the salaries of Members of Parliament.] + + Fetch out your padlocks, bolt and bar the portals, + That none may worship at the Muses' shrine; + Seal up the gifts bequeathed by our Immortals + To be the birthright of their ancient line; + At luxury if you would strike a blow, + Let Art and Science be the first to go. + + Close down the fanes that guard the golden treasure + Wrung by our hands from Nature's hidden wealth; + Treat them as idle haunts of wanton pleasure, + Extremely noxious to the nation's health; + Show that our statesmanship at least has won + A vandal victory o'er the vandal Hun. + + And when her children whom the seas have sent her + Come to the Motherland to fight her war, + And claim their common heritage, to enter + The gate of dreams to that enchanted store, + To other palaces we'll ask them in, + To purer joys of "movies" and of gin. + + But let us still keep open one collection + Of curiosities and quaint antiques, + Under immediate Cabinet direction-- + The finest specimens of talking freaks, + Who constitute our most superb Museum, + Judged by the salaries with which we fee 'em. + O. S. + + * * * * * + +DIPLOMACY. + +"Tell us," said Phyllis laboriously, "about diploma----" and there it +stuck. + +"Tistics," added Lillah in a superior manner. + +Being an uncle, I can never give my brain a rest. It is the easiest +thing in the world to be found out by a child of seven. + +"You mean," I said, "diplomatists?" + +"Yes," said Phyllis in a monotone. "Daddy said they-weren't-any +earthly-blast-them and----" + +"Yes, yes!" I said hastily. I can imagine what George said about +diplomatists. He held a good deal of Balkan stock. + +"Well, are they?" asked Lillah innocently. + +"Diplomatists," I said, "are people in spats and creased trousers, and +the truth is not in them." + +"What is spats?" asked Phyllis. + +"Spats," I answered, "are what people wear when they want to get a job +and their boots are shabby." + +"Are diplomatists shabby?" queried Lillah. + +"Not a bit," I answered rather bitterly. + +"Do they want jobs?" + +"They want to keep them," I said. + +"So they have spats," said Phyllis, completely satisfied. + +"Exactly," I said. "Then they go into an extremely grand room together +and talk." + +"What about?" said Lillah. + +"Oh, anything that turns up," I answered--"the rise in prices or the +late thaw; or if everything fails they simply make personal remarks." + +"Like clergymen," said Phyllis vaguely. + +"Exactly," I said. "And all round the building are secret police +disguised as reporters, and reporters disguised as secret police. And +then each of the diplomatists goes away and writes a white paper, or a +black paper, or a greeny-yellow paper, to show that he was right." + +"And then?" Phyllis gaped with astonishment. + +"Then everybody organises, and centralises, and fraternises, and +defraternises, and, in the end, mobilises." + +Phyllis and Lillah simply stared. + +"Why?" they both gasped. + +"Oh, just to show the diplomatists were wrong," I said airily. + +"And then?" said Lillah breathlessly. + +"The ratepayers pay more." + +"What is a ratepayer?" asked Phyllis. + +"A notorious geek and gull," I said, borrowing from a more distinguished +writer. + +Lillah stared at me with misgiving. + +"But why don't the diplomists say what's true?" she asked. + +"Because," I said, "they'd lose their money and nobody would love them." + +"But," said Phyllis, "Mummie said if we were good everyone would love +us." + +"Your mother was quite right," I answered, with a distinct twinge of +that thin-ice feeling. + +"Well, but you said nobody would love diplomists if they were good," +said Phyllis. + +"So good people aren't loved," added Lillah, "and Mummie said what +wasn't true." + +I fought desperately for a reply. This could not be allowed to pass. It +struck at the roots of nursery constitutionalism. + +"Ah," I said, without any pretence at logic, "but the poor diplomatists +don't know any better." + +"Like the heathen that Mummie tells us about on Sunday?" + +"Between the heathen and a diplomatist," I said, "there is nothing to +choose." + +Phyllis sighed. "I wish I didn't know any better," she said yearningly. +Lillah looked at me dangerously from the corner of her eye. + +"And got money for it," she added. + +"Would you like to play zoo?" I said hastily. + +They were silent. + +"I'll be a bear," I said eagerly--"a polar one." + +No answer. I felt discouraged, but I made another effort. "Or," I said, +"I can be a monkey and you can throw nuts at me, or" --desperately-- "a +ring-tailed lemur, or an orangoutang, or an ant-eater...." My voice +tailed away and there was silence. Then the small voice of Phyllis broke +in. + +"Uncle," she said, "why aren't you a diplomist?" + +At that point Nurse came in and I slid quietly off. As I was going out +of the door I heard the voice of Lillah. + +"Nannie," she said, "tell us about diplomists." + +"You leave diplomatists alone, Miss Lillah," said Nurse; "they won't do +you no harm if you don't talk about them." + +Now why couldn't I have thought of that? It's just training, I suppose. + + * * * * * + +An Impending Apology. + + "Lieut.-Col. ---- is out of the city in the interests of + recruiting." + + _Winnipeg Evening Tribune._ + + * * * * * + + "Nevertheless a strong Bulgarophone and Turkophone feeling prevails + in Greece, especially in military circles." + + _Balkan News_ (_Salonika_). + +"Master's Voice," we presume. + + * * * * * + + "'Theodore Wolff says:--'Other peace orators have followed Lord + Loreburn and Lord Courtney in the House of Lords. One must not + awaken the belief that such prophets can accomplish miracles of + conversation in a day.'"--_Winnipeg Evening Tribune._ + +We think Herr Wolff underestimates Lord Courtney's powers in this +direction. + +[Illustration: ECONOMY IN LUXURIES. + +First Philistine. "I'm All With the Government Over This Closing Of +Museums. I Never Touch 'em Myself." + +Second Philistine. "Same Here. Waiter, Get Me a Couple of Stalls for The +Frivolity."] + +[Illustration: AT OUR PATRIOTIC BAZAAR. + +_Devoted Stall-holder._ "I hardly like to ask you, Mr. Thrush, but the +Committee would be so grateful if you would write one of your sweet +verses on each of these eggs for wounded soldiers!"] + + * * * * * + +JILLINGS. + +I have always been very fond and proud of my niece Celia. With an +exceptionally attractive appearance and a personal fascination that is +irresistible she combines the sweetest and most unselfish nature it has +ever been my good fortune to meet. Indeed, she has so excessive a +consideration for the feelings of everybody but herself that she drifts +into difficulties which she might have avoided by a little more +firmness. As, for example, in the case of Jillings. Celia and Jack have +been married six years; he is about twelve years older than she, and a +capital good fellow, though he is said to have rather a violent temper. +But he has never shown it with Celia--nobody could, had left the Army on +his marriage and settled down in a pretty little place in Surrey, but of +course rejoined the Service as soon as the War broke out. So long as he +was in training with his regiment she took rooms in the neighbourhood, +but when he was ordered to the Front about a year ago she and the +children returned to the Surrey home, and it was then that Celia engaged +Jillings as parlourmaid. I saw her shortly afterwards when I went down +to stay for a night, and was struck by the exuberant enthusiasm with +which she waited--not over efficiently--at table. Celia remarked +afterwards that Jillings was a little inexperienced as yet, but so +willing and warm-hearted, and with such a sensitively affectionate +disposition that the least hint of reproof sufficed to send her into a +flood of tears. + +I had no idea then--nor had Celia--how much inconvenience and +embarrassment can be produced by a warm-hearted parlour-maid. Jillings' +devotion did not express itself in a concrete form until Celia's +birthday, and the form it took was that of an obese and unimaginably +hideous pincushion which mysteriously appeared on her dressing-table. +Old and attached servants are in the habit of presenting their employers +on certain occasions with some appropriate gift, and no one would be +churlish enough to discourage so kindly a practice. But Jillings, it +must be owned, was beginning it a bit early. However, Celia thanked her +as charmingly as though she had been longing all her life for exactly +such a treasure. Still, it was not only unnecessary but distinctly +unwise to add that it should be placed in her wardrobe for safety, as +being much too gorgeous for everyday use. Because all she gained by this +consummate tact was another pincushion, not quite so ornate perhaps, but +even cruder in colour, and this she was compelled to assign a prominent +position among her toilet accessories. + +These successes naturally encouraged Jillings to further efforts. Celia +had the misfortune one day to break a piece of valuable old porcelain +which had stood on her drawing-room mantelpiece, whereupon the faithful +Jillings promptly replaced the loss by a china ornament purchased by +herself. Considered merely as an article of _vertu_ it was about on a +par with the pincushions, but Celia accepted it in the spirit with which +it had been offered. And, warned by experience, she did not lock it up +in the obscurity of a cabinet, nor contrive that some convenient +accident should befall it, wisely preferring "to bear those ills she had +than fly to others," etc. And so it still remains a permanent eyesore on +her mantelshelf. + +Then it seemed that Jillings, who, by the way, was not uncomely, had +established friendly relations with one of the gardeners at the big +house of the neighbourhood--with the result that Celia found her +sitting-rooms replenished at frequent intervals with the most +magnificent specimens of magnolia, tuberose, stephanotis and gardenia. +Unfortunately she happens to be one of those persons whom any strongly +scented flowers afflict with violent headache. But she never mentioned +this for fear of wounding Jillings' susceptibilities. Luckily, Jillings +and the under-gardener fell out in a fortnight. + +As was only to be expected, the other servants, being equally devoted to +their mistress, could not allow Jillings to monopolize the pride and +glory of putting her under an obligation. Very soon a sort of +competition sprang up, each of them endeavouring to out-do the other in +giving Celia what they termed, aptly enough, "little surprises," till +they hit upon the happy solution of clubbing together for the purpose. +Thus Celia, having, out of the kindness of her heart, ordered an +expensive lace hood for the baby from a relation of the nurse's at +Honiton, was dismayed to discover, when the hood arrived, that it was +already paid for and was a joint gift from the domestics. After that she +felt, being Celia, that it would be too ungracious to insist on +refunding the money. + +It was not until I was staying with her last Spring that I heard of all +these excesses. But at breakfast on Easter Sunday not only did Celia, +Tony and the baby each receive an enormous satin egg filled with +chocolates, but I was myself the recipient of one of these seasonable +tokens, being informed by the beaming Jillings that "we didn't want +_you_, Sir, to feel you'd been forgotten." By lunch-time it became clear +that she had succeeded in animating at least one of the local tradesmen +with this spirit of reckless liberality. For when Celia made a mild +inquiry concerning a sweetbread which she had no recollection of having +ordered Jillings explained, with what I fear I must describe as a +self-conscious smirk, that it was "a little Easter orfering from the +butcher, Madam." I am bound to say that even Celia was less scrupulous +about hurting the butcher's feelings--no doubt from an impression that +his occupation must have cured him of any over-sensitiveness. + +As soon as we were alone she told me all she had been enduring, which it +seemed she had been careful not to mention in her letters to Jack. "I +simply can't tell you, Uncle," she concluded pathetically, "how wearing +it is to be constantly thanking somebody for something I'd ever so much +rather be without. And yet--what else can I do?" + +I suggested that she might strictly forbid all future indulgence in +these orgies of generosity, and she supposed meekly that she should +really have to do something of that sort, though we both knew how +extremely improbable it was that she ever would. + +This morning I had a letter from her. Jack had got leave at last and she +was expecting him home that very afternoon, so I must come down and see +him before his six days expired. "I wish now," she went on, "that I had +taken your advice, but it was so difficult somehow. Because ever since I +told Jillings and the others about Jack's coming home they have been +going about smiling so importantly that I'm horribly afraid they're +planning some dreadful surprise, and I daren't ask them what. Now I must +break off, as I must get ready to go to the station with Tony and meet +dear Jack...." + +Then followed a frantic postscript. "I know _now_! They've dressed poor +Tony up in a little khaki uniform that doesn't even fit him! And, what's +worse, they've put up a perfectly terrible triumphal arch over the front +gate, with 'Hail to our Hero' on it in immense letters. They all seem so +pleased with themselves--and anyway there's no time to alter anything +now. But I don't know what Jack will say." + +I don't either, but I could give a pretty good guess. I shall see him +and Celia to-morrow. But I shall be rather surprised if I see Jillings. + + F. A. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Old Lady_ (_quite carried away_). "How nice it is to +have the ticket proffered, as it were, instead of thrust upon one!"] + + * * * * * + +THE WELL-DISPOSED ONES. + +(_With acknowledgments to the back page of "The Referee."_) + +Bertram Brazenthwaite, Basso-Profondo (varicose veins and flat feet), +respectfully informs his extensive _clientèle_ that he has a few vacant +dates at the end of 1917. Comings-of-Age, Jumble Sales and Fabian +Society Soirees a specialité. + + Sir Sawyer Hackett, M. D., writes: "The physical defects which + prevent Mr. Brazenthwaite from joining the colours have left his + vocal gifts and general gaiety unimpaired." + + * * * * * + +Do you want your Christening to be a _succès fou_? Then send for Hubert +the Homunculus, London's Premier Baby-Entertainer (astigmatism, and +conscientious objections). + + "Hubert the Homunculus would make a kitten laugh."--Hilary Joye, in + _The Encore_. + +High-art pamphlet from "The Lebanons," New North Road, N. + + * * * * * + +Jolly Jenkin, Patriotic Prestidigitator (Group 98). Nominal terms to the +Army, Navy and Civic Guard. Address till end of week, The Parthenon, +Puddlecombe. Next, Reigate Rotunda. + + _The Epoch_ says: "Jolly Jenkin has the Evil Eye. In the Middle + Ages he would have been burnt.". + + * * * * * + + "Men who are physically fit can be released from clerical duties + and replaced by hen only fit for sedentary occupations."--_Daily + Paper._ + +Broody, in fact. + + * * * * * + +HOW I DINED WITH THE PRESIDENT. + +The Truth about Wilson. +[SPECIAL TO _PUNCH_.] + +On Saturday, January 22nd, I arrived in Washington from Seattle. The +Seattle part is another story. + +What I have to tell to-day, here, now, and once for all, is what I saw +of the President at close quarters outside and inside the White House +and what happened at the historic dinner-party, at which I was the only +representative of a belligerent country present. + +By a fortunate coincidence Mr. Wilson arrived at the railway depôt on +his return from a game of golf with his secretary, Mr. Tumulty, as I was +loitering at the bookstall. I had never seen either of them before, but +intuitively recognised them in a flash. Mr. Tumulty looked exactly as a +man with so momentous a name could only look. The President was garbed +in a neutral-tinted lounge-suit and wore a dark fawn overcoat and +dove-coloured spats. + +How did the President look? Well, his face was obviously the face of a +changed man. Not that he is changed for the worse. He seemed in the pink +of condition, and his clean-cut profile and firm jaw radiated inflexible +determination at every pore. No signs of a moustache are yet visible on +his finely-chiselled upper lip. + +I had no introduction, and no time was to be lost, so without a moment's +hesitation I strode up to the President and said, "Permit me, Sir, as +the accredited representative of a neutral nation, to offer you this +token of respect," and handed him a small Dutch cheese, a dainty to +which I had been informed he was especially partial. The President +smiled graciously, handed the offering to his secretary, and said, "I +thank you, Sir. Won't you join us at the White House at dinner +to-night?" I expressed my acceptance in suitable terms, bowed and passed +on. + +The dinner took place in the famous octagonal dining-room of the White +House, which was profusely decorated with the flags of the Scandinavian +Kingdoms, Spain, Greece, China, Chile, Peru, Brazil and the Argentine. + +The band of the Washington Post Office Rifles was ensconced behind a +trellis of olive branches and discoursed a choice selection of soothing +music. Flagons of grape-juice and various light and phosphorescent +beverages stood on the sideboard. It was a memorable scene and every +detail was indelibly impressed on my mind. The President greeted his +guests with the calm dignity proper to his high office. He does not +affect the high handshake of English smart society, but a firm yet +gentle clasp. In repose his features reminded me of Julius Cæsar, but +when he smiles he recalls the more genial lineaments of the great +Pompey. The general impression created on my mind was one of refined +simplicity. As the President himself remarked, quoting Thucydides to one +of his Greek guests, [Greek: philukalonmen meht ehuteleias]. + +It is quite untrue that the conversation was confined to the English +tongue. On the contrary all the neutral languages, except Chinese, were +spoken, the President showing an equal facility in every one, and +honourably making a point of never uttering two consecutive sentences in +the same tongue. War topics were rigorously eschewed, and so far as I +could follow the conversation--I only speak five of the neutral +languages--the subjects ranged from golf to hygienic clothing, from +co-education to coon-can. + +I do not propose here and now to state the circumstances in which, on +leaving the White House, I was kidnapped by some emissaries of Count +Bernstorff, and ultimately consigned to the Tombs in New York on a false +charge of manslaughter; how I narrowly escaped being electrocuted, and +was subsequently deported to Bermuda as an undesirable alien. What I saw +and endured in the Tombs is another story. What really matters is the +Bill of Fare of the President's dinner, which was printed in Esperanto +and ran as follows:-- + + Turtle Dove Soup. + Norwegian Salmon Cutlets. + Iceland Reindeer Steak. + Tipperusalein Artichokes and Spanish Onions. + Chaudfroid à la Woodrow. + Irene Pudding. + Dutch Cheese Straws. + Brazil Nuts. + +After dinner Greek cigarettes were handed round with small cups of China +tea and, as an alternative, Peruvian _maté._ + + * * * * * + +THE INVASION. + +I thought--being very old indeed, "older," as a poem by Mr. Sturge Moore +begins, "than most sheep"--I thought, being so exceedingly mature and +disillusioned, that I knew all the worries of life. Yet I did not; there +was still one that was waiting for me round the corner, but I know that +too, now. + +I will tell you about it. + +To begin with, let me describe myself. I am an ordinary quiet-living +obscure person, neither exalted nor lowly, who, having tired of town, +took a little place in the country and there settled down to a life of +placidity, varied by such inroads upon ease as all back-to-the-landers +know: now a raid on the chickens by a fox, whose humour it is not to +devour but merely to decapitate; now the disappearance of the gardener +at Lord Derby's coat-tails; now a flood; and now and continually a +desire on the part of the cook to give a month's notice, if you please, +and the consequent resumption of correspondence with the registry +office. There you have the main lines of the existence not only of +myself, but of thousands of other English rural recluses. But for such +little difficulties I have been happy--a Cincinnatus ungrumbling. + +The new fly entered the ointment about three weeks ago, when a parcel +was brought to me by a footman from the Priory, some three miles away, +with a message to the effect that it had been delivered there and opened +in error. They were of course very sorry. + +I asked how the mistake had occurred. + +"Same name," he said. "The house has just been let furnished to some +people of the same name as yourself." + +Now I have always rather prided myself on the rarity of my name. I don't +go so far as to claim that it came over with the Conqueror, but it is an +old name and an uncommon one, and hitherto I had been the only owner of +it in the district. To have it duplicated was annoying. + +Worse however was to come. + +I do not expect to be believed, but it is a solemn fact that within a +fortnight two more bearers of my name moved into the village. One was a +cowman, and the other a maiden lady, so that at the present moment there +are four of us all opening or rejecting each other's letters. The thing +is absurd. One might as well be named Smith right away. + +I don't mind the cowman, but the maiden lady is a large order. I have, +as I say, lived in this place for some time--at least six years--and she +moved into The Laurels only ten days ago, but when she came round this +morning with an opened telegram that was not meant for her, she had the +maiden--ladylikehood to remark how awkward it was when other people had +the same name as herself. "There should," she said, "never be more than +one holder of a name in a small place." + +I had no retort beyond the obvious one that I got there first; but I +hope that the cowman henceforth gets all her correspondence and delays +it. He is welcome to mine so long as he deals faithfully with hers. + + * * * * * + + "Balakn Centre has shifted." _Toronto Mail_. + +So we observe. + + +MR. PUNCH'S POTTED FILMS. THE WILD WEST DRAMA. + +THE ROSEBUD OF GINGER'S GULCH. + +[Illustration: The Green-Eyed Monster.] + +[Illustration: On the Trail.] + +[Illustration: "He has left his pocket-handkerchief, and he has a cold +in the head. I must take it to him."] + +[Illustration: "You have five seconds more to live."] + +[Illustration: In the nick of time.] + +[Illustration: "Darling!"] + +[Illustration: THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING YOUNG. + +Office-Boy engaging a suitable Employer.] + + * * * * * + +NEWS FROM KIEL. + +(_By our Naval Expert._) + +An interesting little item of news in the daily papers of last Wednesday +may have escaped notice. It appears that the German Liners which have +been laid up in New York harbour for the last eighteen months have +discovered that their magnetic deviation has been affected. This is the +explanation of the recent movement in the harbour, when all the German +ships were turned round so as to readjust their compasses. + +The special significance of this information is to be found by taking it +in conjunction with the recent puzzling reports of movements of the +German High Seas Fleet. It will be remembered that the Fleet was +represented in an enemy official report (with the customary +exaggeration) as sweeping out into the North Sea. That was not readily +believed, but it was generally felt that there must be something in it, +especially as all manner of rumours of naval activity kept coming +through from Scandinavia about the same time. + +Our naval experts in this country were quite at a loss, but to-day the +riddle is solved. What was happening was that the High Seas Fleet was +_turning round_. + +I have had the good fortune to fall in with a neutral traveller--of the +usual high standing and impartial sympathies--who has supplied a few +details. It seems that great excitement prevailed at this scene of +unwonted bustle and activity. The operation was carried out under +favourable weather conditions practically without a hitch, the +casualties being quite negligible, and the _moral_ of the men, in spite +of their long period of enforced coma, being absolutely unshaken. One +and all have now cheerfully accepted the disconcerting changes involved +in the new orientation, and window-boxes have been generally shifted to +the sunny side. + + * * * * * + + "On Monday, near Durgerdam, in Holland, a fresh dyke burst occurred + on a length of 50 metres. Over 200 handbags were at once thrown + into the opening without any visible result."--_Provincial Paper._ + +Still, the sacrifice was well meant. + + * * * * * + +THE GOLDEN VALLEY. + +(Herefordshire.) + + Abbeydore, Abbeydore, + Land of apples and of gold, + Where the lavish field-gods pour + Song and cider manifold; + Gilded land of wheat and rye, + Land where laden branches cry, + "Apples for the young and old + Ripe at Abbeydore!" + + Abbeydore, Abbeydore, + Where the shallow river spins + Elfin spells for evermore, + Where the mellow kilderkins + Hoard the winking apple-juice + For the laughing reapers' use; + All the joy of life begins + There at Abbeydore. + + Abbeydore, Abbeydore, + In whose lap of wonder teems + Largess from a wizard store, + World of idle, crooning streams-- + From a stricken land of pain + May I win to you again, + Garden of the God of Dreams, + Golden Abbeydore. + +[Illustration: A GERMAN HOLIDAY. + +Child. "PLEASE, SIR, WHAT IS THIS HOLIDAY FOR?" + +Official. "BECAUSE OUR ZEPPELINS HAVE CONQUERED ENGLAND." + +Child. "HAVE THEY BROUGHT US BACK ANY BREAD?" + +Official. "DON'T ASK SILLY QUESTIONS. WAVE YOUR FLAG."] + + * * * * * + +AT THE FRONT. + +There is one matter I have hitherto not touched on, because it has not +hitherto touched on me, and that is Courses. + +The ideal course works like this. You are sitting up to the ears in mud +under a brisk howitzer, trench mortar and rifle grenade fire, when a +respectful signaller crawls round a traverse, remarking, "Message, Sir." + +You take the chit from him languidly, wondering whether you have earned +a court-martial by omitting to report on the trench sleeping-suits which +someone in the Rearward Services has omitted to forward, and you read, +still languidly at first; then you get up and whoop, throw your primus +stove into the air and proceed to dance on the parapet, if your trench +has one. Then you settle down and read your message again to see if it +still runs, "You are detailed to attend three months' Staff work course +at Boulogne, commencing to-morrow. A car will be at the dump for you +to-night. A month's leave on completion, of course." + +But all courses are not like this; all you can say is that some are less +unlike it than others. I was sitting in a warm billet about twelve noon +having breakfast on the first day out of trenches when the blow fell on +me. I was to report about two days ago at a School of Instruction some +two hundred yards away. I gathered that the course had started without +me. I set some leisurely inquiries in train, in the hope that it might +be over before I joined up. I also asked the Adjutant whether I couldn't +have it put off till next time in trenches, or have it debited to me as +half a machine-gun course payable on demand, or exchange it for a +guinea-pig or a canary, or do anything consistent with the honour of an +officer to stave it off. For to tell the truth, like all people who know +nothing and have known it for a long time, I cherish a deeply-rooted +objection to being instructed. + +Unfortunately the Adjutant is one of those weak fellows who always tell +you that they are mere machines in the grip of the powers that change +great nations. So on the third day I bought a nice new slate and satchel +and joined up. + +Even now, after some days of intense instruction, I find my condition is +a little confused and foggy. Of course it covers practically the whole +field of military interests, and I ought to be able to win the War in +about three-quarters of an hour, given a reasonable modicum of men, +guns, indents, physical training and bayonet exercise, knowledge of +military law, and acquaintance with the approved methods of conducting a +casualty clearing station, a mechanical transport column, and a field +kitchen. The confusion of mind evident in this last sentence is a high +testimonial to the comprehensive nature of our course. + +Physical training made the strongest appeal to me. I remember some of +the best words, not perhaps as they are, but as I caught them from an +almost over-glib expert. Did you know you had a strabismal vertebra? or, +given a strabismal vertebra, that it could be developed to almost any +extent by simply 'eaving from the 'ips? Take my tip and try it next time +you're under shell-fire. + +To-morrow we break up, and I join the army. The army has gone away +somewhere while I wasn't looking, and I shall have to make inquiries +about it. You never can tell what these things will do when not kept +under the strictest observation. My bit _may_ have gone to Egypt or +Nyassaland or Nagri Sembilan. But I have a depressing feeling that A 27 +_x y z_ iv. 9.8 will be nearer the mark, and that I shall find it +meandering nightly to Bk 171 in large droves, there to insert more and +more humps of soggy Belgium into more and more sandbags. I don't want to +make myself unpleasant to the War Office, but I really can't see why we +haven't once and for all built trenches all done up in eight-inch thick +steel plates. They could easily be brought up ready-made, and simply +sunk into position. + +They would sink all right; you'd just have to put them down anywhere and +look the other way for a minute. The difficulty would be to stop the +lift before it got to the basement--if there is a basement in Flanders. + +There is a tragedy to report. We were adopted recently by a magpie. He +was a gentle creature of impulsive habits and strong woodpecking +instincts. Arsène we called him. For some days he gladdened us with his +soft bright eye. But when we came to know him well and I relied on him +to break the shells of my eggs every morning at breakfast, to steal my +pens and spill my ink, to wake me by a gentle nip on the nose from his +firm but courteous beak, a rough grenadier came one day to explain a new +type of infernal machine, and, when we went out, left a detonator on the +table. + +I never saw what actually followed, but we buried Arsène with full +military honours. + + * * * * * + + "Ladies' Self-trimmed Velvet Hate for One + Shilling."--_North-Country Paper._ + +The latest fashion in Berlin. + + * * * * * + +MORE LIGHT FROM OUR LEADERS. + +By way of a supplement to the Candle-shade epigrams recently contributed +by various distinguished men and women of light and leading, we have +been fortunate to secure the following sentiments for St. Valentine's +Day from several luminaries who were conspicuously absent from the list. + +Mr. Harry Lauder, the illustrious comedian, poetizes as follows:-- + + "Let those wha wull compile the nation's annals, And guide oor + thochts in strict historic channels; Ma Muse prefers, far fra these + dull morasses, To laud the purrrple heather and the lassies." + +Mr. Stevenson, the incomparable cueist, sends this pithy distich:-- + + "Big guns are useful in their way, 'tis true, But nursery cannons + have their uses too." + +Miss Carrie Tubb, the famous soprano, writes:-- + + "Butt me no butts. Though carping critics flout us, What would + Diogenes have done without us?" + +A distinguished actor gives as his favourite quotation the couplet from +Goldsmith:-- + + "A man he was financially unique, And passing poor on forty pounds + a week." + +Mr. Bernard Shaw contributes this characteristic definition of genius:-- + + "Genius consists in an infinite capacity for giving pain." + +The Air Candidate for Mile End sends the following witty and topical +epigram:-- + + "Mid war's alarms there is no time for cooing, But Billing may + prevent our land's undoing." + + * * * * * + + "We are all familiar with the poetic words: 'There's many a gem + that's born to blush unseen, and waste its fragrance on the desert + air.'"--_Kilmarnock Herald._ + +Our own ignorance of this gem makes us blush (unseen, we hope). + + * * * * * + + "How To Keep Warm.--In Great Britain I think a shirt, vest and coat + enough covering for the ordinary man. I wear no more." + + _Reynolds Newspaper._ + +No one who follows this advice need fear a chill. The police are sure to +make it warm for him. + + * * * * * + + "When Sir Stanley (now Lord) Buckmaster succeeded Mr. (now Sir) F. + E. Smith in the chief responsibility for the Bureau he made a point + of betting on friendly terms with the representatives of the Fourth + Estate." + + _Bristol Times and Mirror._ + +Several of them, it is well known, have been charged with book-making. + + * * * * * + + "Lady (Young) seeks Sit. in shop; butcher's preferred; would like + to learn scales." + + _Morning Paper._ + +Why not try a piano-monger's? + +[Illustration: _She._ "And are you only just back from the trenches? How +interesting! You will be able to tell us the real truth about the +Kaiser's illness."] + + * * * * * + +A DUEL OF ENDURANCE. + +Our butcher's name is Bones. Yes, I know it sounds too good to be true. +But I can't help it. Once more, his name is Bones. + +There is something wrong with Bones. Mark him as he stands there among +all those bodies of sheep and oxen, feeling with his thumb the edge of +that long sharp knife and gazing wistfully across the way to where the +greengrocer's baby lies asleep in its perambulator on the pavement. +Observe him start with a sigh from his reverie as you enter his shop. +What is the matter with him? Why should a butcher sigh? + +I will tell you. He has been thinking about the Kaiser, the Kaiser who +is breaking his heart through the medium of the greengrocer's baby. + +As all the world knows, between the ages of one and two the best British +babies are built up on beef tea and mutton broth; at two or thereabouts +they start on small chops. No one can say when the custom arose. Like so +many of those unwritten laws on which the greatness of England is really +based it has outgrown the memory of its origin. But its force is as +universally binding to-day as it was in Plantagenet times. Thus, though +numerous households since the War began have temporarily adopted a +vegetarian diet, in the majority of cases a line has been drawn at the +baby. That is why butchers at present look on babies as their +sheet-anchors. It is through them that they keep the toe of their boot +inside the family door. The little things they send for them serve as a +memento of the old Sunday sirloin, a reminder that while nuts may +nourish niggers the Briton's true prerogative is beef. + +The greengrocer has given up meat. But he has done more than this. He +has done what not even a greengrocer should do. He has broken the +tradition of the ages. He is feeding his baby on bananas. + +At first the greengrocer's baby did not like bananas and its cries were +awful. But after a while it got used to them, and now even when it goes +to bed it clutches one in its tiny hand. It is not so rosy as it was, +but the greengrocer says red-faced babies are apoplectic and that the +reason it twitches so much in its sleep is because it is so full of +vitality. He is advising all his customers to feed their babies on +bananas. Bones does not care much what happens to the greengrocer's +baby, but he says if it lasts much longer he will have to put his +shutters up. He is growing very despondent, and I noticed the other day +that he had given up chewing suet--a bad sign in a butcher. + +It is a duel of endurance between Bones and the greengrocer's baby. I +wonder which will win. + + * * * * * + + "Mr. Buxton was severely heckled at the outset from all parts of + the room. Each time he endeavoured to speak he was hailed with a + torrent of howls, hoots and kisses." + + _Provincial Paper_. + +A notoriously effective way of stopping the mouth. + + * * * * * + +From the Lady's column in _The Cur_:-- + + "Now about this word 'damn.' Of course you all think it is a good + old Saxon word! Well, prepare for a surprise. It is derived from + the Latin damnere." + +Well, we are--surprised. + + * * * * * + +Motto for the next Turkish Revolution: _Enver Renversé_. + +[Illustration: _Householder._ "But, hang it all, I can't see why that +bomb next door should make you want to _raise_ my rent!" + +_Landlord._ "Don't you perceive, my dear Sir, that your house is now +semi-detached?"] + + * * * * * + +TONNAGE. + +"Oh, dear," said Francesca, "everything keeps going up." She was engaged +upon the weekly books and spoke in a tone of heartfelt despair. + +"Well," I said, "you've known all along how it would be. Everybody's +told you so." + +"Everybody? Who's everybody in this case?" + +"I told you so for one, and Mr. Asquith mentioned it several times, and +so did Mr. McKenna." + +"I have never," she said proudly, "discussed my weekly books with +Messrs. Asquith and McKenna. I should scorn the action." + +"That's all very well," I said. "Keep them away as far as you can, but +they'll still get hold of you. The Chancellor of the Exchequer knows +your weekly books by heart." + +"I wish," she said, "he'd add them up for me. He's a good adder-up, I +suppose, or he wouldn't be what he is." + +"He's fair to middling, I fancy--something like me." + +"_You!_" she said, in a tone of ineffable contempt. "You're no good at +addition." + +"Francesca," I said, "you wrong me. I'm a great deal of good. Of course +I don't pretend to be able to run three fingers up three columns of +figures a yard long and to write down the result as £7,956 17_s._ 8_d_., +or whatever it may be, without a moment's pause. I can't do that, but +for the ordinary rough-and-tumble work of domestic addition I'm hard to +beat. Only if I'm to do these books of yours there must be perfect +silence in the room. I mustn't be talked to while I'm wrestling with the +nineteens and the seventeens in the shilling column." + +"In fact," said Francesca, "you ought to be a deaf adder." + +"Francesca," I said, "how could you? Give me the butcher's book and let +there be no more _jeux de mots_ between us." + +I took the book, which was a masterpiece of illegibility, and added it +up with my usual grace and felicity. + +"Francesca," I said as I finished my task, "my total differs from the +butcher's, but the difference is in his favour, not in mine. He seems to +have imparted variety to his calculations by considering that it took +twenty pence to make a shilling, which is a generous error. Now let me +deal with the baker while you tackle the grocer, and then we'll wind up +by doing the washing-book together." + +The washing-book was a teaser, the items being apparently entered in +Chaldee, but we stumbled through it at last. + +"And now," I said, "we can take up the subject of thrift." + +"I don't want to talk about it," she said, "I'm thoroughly tired of it. +We've talked too much about it already." + +"You're wrong there; we haven't talked half enough. If we had, the books +wouldn't have gone up." + +"They haven't gone up," she said. "They're about the same, but we've +been having less." + +"Noble creature," I said, "do you mean to say that you've docked me of +one of my Sunday sausages and the whole of my Thursday roly-poly pudding +and never said a word about it?" + +"Well, you didn't seem to notice it, so I left it alone." + +"Ah, but I did notice it," I said, "but I determined to suffer in +silence in order to set an example to the children." + +"That was bravely done," she said. "It encourages me to cut down the +Saturday sirloin." + +"But what will the servants say? They won't like it." + +"They'll have to lump it then." + +"But I thought servants never lumped it. I thought they always insisted +on their elevenses and all their other food privileges." + +"Anyhow," she said, "I'm going to make a push for economy and the +servants must push with me. They won't starve, whatever happens." + +"No, and if they begin to object you can talk to them about tonnage." + +"That ought to bowl them over. But hadn't I better know what it means +before I mention it?" + +"Yes, that might be an advantage." + +"You see," she said, "Mrs. Mincer devotes to the reading of newspapers +all the time she can spare from the cooking of meals and she'd be sure +to trip me up if I ventured to say anything about tonnage." + +"Learn then," I said, "that tonnage means the amount of space reserved +for cargoes on ships--at least I suppose that's what it means, and----" + +"You don't seem very sure about it. Hadn't you better look it up?" + +"No," I said. "That's good enough for Mrs. Mincer. Now if there's an +insufficiency of tonnage----" + +"But why should there be an insufficiency of tonnage?" + +"Because," I said, "the Government have taken up so much tonnage for the +purposes of the War. How did you think the Army got supplied with food +and shells and guns and men? Did you think they flew over to France and +Egypt and Salonica?" + +"Don't be rude," she said. "I didn't introduce this question of tonnage. +You did. And even now I don't see what tonnage has got to do with our +sirloin of beef." + +"I will," I said kindly, "explain it to you all over again. We have +ample tonnage for necessaries, but not for luxuries." + +"But my sirloin of beef isn't a luxury." + +"For the purpose of my argument," I said, "it is a luxury and must be +treated as such." + +"Do you know," she said, "I don't think I'll bother about tonnage. I'll +tackle Mrs. Mincer in my own way." + +"You're throwing away a great opportunity," I said. + +"Never mind," she said. "If I feel I'm being beaten I'll call you in. +Your power of lucid explanation will pull me through." + + R. C. L. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Elder to Beadle._ "Well, John, how did you like the +strange minister?" + +_Beadle._ "No Ava, Elder--he's an awfu' frichtened kin' a chap yon. Did +ye notice how he aye talked aboot 'oor adversary, Satan'? Oor own +meenister just ca's him plain 'deevil'--he doesna care a dom for him."] + + * * * * * + +CANADIAN REMOUNTS. + + Bronco dams they ran by on the ranges of the prairies, + Heard the chicken drumming in the scented saskatoon, + Saw the jewel humming-birds, the flocks of pale canaries, + Heard the coyotes dirging to the ruddy Northern moon; + Woolly foals, leggy foals, foals that romped and wrestled, + Rolled in beds of golden-rod and charged to mimic fights, + Saw the frosty Bear wink out and comfortably nestled + Close beside their vixen dams beneath the wizard Lights. + + Far from home and overseas, older now--and wiser, + Branded with the arrow brand, broke to trace and bit, + Tugging up the grey guns "to strafe the blooming Kaiser," + Up the hill to Kemmel, where the Mauser bullets spit; + Stiffened with the cold rains, mired and tired and gory, + Plunging through the mud-holes as the batteries advance, + Far from home and overseas--but battling on to glory + With the English eighteen-pounders and the soixante-quinzes of France! + + * * * * * + +AT THE PLAY. + +"Mrs. Pretty and the Premier." + +I am not sure that I didn't find Mr. Bourchier's "Foreword" or Apologia +(kindly given away with the programme) rather more entertaining than the +play itself. As long as the dramatist (a New Zealander) concerned +himself with the delightfully unconventional atmosphere of Antipodean +politics he was illuminating and very possibly veracious. But the +relations between the _Premier_ and the widow _Pretty_, which promised, +as the title hinted, to be the main attraction, were such as never could +have occurred on land or sea. It was impossible, with this farcical +element always obtruding itself, to take the political features of the +play seriously, as I gather that we were intended to do; and we got very +little help from Mr. Bourchier's own performance, which was frankly +humorous. In his brochure he tells us with great solemnity that he is +"more than pleased to think that the play may help to demonstrate to +those of an older civilisation how truly the best of the so-called +Labour politicians strive to serve their country and their fellow +men.... Premier 'Bill' demonstrates vividly enough that, heart and soul, +the Australian politician devotes himself to the uplifting of the great +Commonwealth." Mr. Bourchier's tongue may or may not have been in his +cheek when he penned these lofty sentiments, but anyhow it seemed to be +there during most of the play. + +He is on safer ground when he tells us that "in curiously vivid and +pungent fashion this little play outlines the breezy freshness and the +originality of outlook which almost invariably characterise the +politicians and statesmen of the Prairie, the Veldt and the Bush, and +which more than anything else perhaps differentiates them from the men +of an older land, hampered as these latter often are by long and stately +traditions." Certainly, in the matter of addressing its Premier by a +familiar abbreviation of his Christian name (an authority who has +travelled in these parts assures Mr. Bourchier that he is "quite right:" +that "people would call this Premier 'Bill' in Australia") the new world +differs from the old. I cannot so much as contemplate the thought of Mr. +Asquith being addressed by the Minister Of Munitions as "Herb," or even +"Bert." + +[Illustration: FIRST LOVE; OR THE JEUNE PREMIER. + +_Bill the Premier_ Mr. Arthur Bourchier. + +_Mrs. Pretty_ Miss Kyrle Bellew.] + +But we have difficulties again with the Foreword (for I cannot get away +from it) when we come to the question of the hero's virility. In the +play his secretary says of him, "Bill's not a man, he's a Premier. A +kind of dynamo running the country at top speed." Yet the Foreword, +after citing this passage, goes on to insist upon his "tingling +humanity" and hinting at the need of such a type of manhood at the +present time. "After all," concludes Mr. Bourchier in a spasm of +uplift--"after all, what is the cry of the moment here in the heart of +the Empire, but for 'a Man-Give us a Man!'" But even if we reject the +secretary's estimate of his chief as a dynamo we still find a certain +deficiency of manhood in the anæmic indifference of the _Premier's_ +attitude to women; an attitude, by the way, not commonly associated with +Mr. Bourchier's impersonations on the stage. _Mrs. Pretty's_ tastes are, +of course, her own affair, and we were allowed little insight into her +heart (if any), but I can only conclude that her choice was governed by +political rather than emotional considerations ("Let us remember Women +Have the Vote In Australia" is the finale of the Foreword) and that what +she wanted was a Premier rather than a Man. + +Of the play itself one may at least say that it kept fairly off the +beaten track. There was novelty in its local colour, its unfamiliar +types and the episode, adroitly managed, of a pair of gloves employed to +muffle the division bell at the moment of a crisis on which the fate of +the Government depended. But the design was too small to fill the stage +of His Majesty's and it left me a little disappointed. I was content so +long as Mr. Bourchier was in sight, but the part of _Mrs. Pretty_ needed +something more than the rather conscious graces and airy drapery of Miss +Kyrle Bellew. The rest of the performance was sound but not very +exhilarating; and altogether, though I hope I am properly grateful for +any help towards the realisation of "Colonial conditions," I cannot +honestly say that _Mrs. Pretty_ and the _Premier_ has done very much for +me (as Mr. Bourchier hoped it would) by way of supplementing the thrill +of Anzac. O. S. + + * * * * * + + A NAVAL REVELATION. + + Edward Brown's official sheet, + Humble though his station, + Showed a record which the Fleet + Viewed with admiration. + + Fifteen stainless summers bore + Fruit in serried cluster; + Conduct stripes he proudly wore, + One for every lustre. + + Picture then the blank amaze + When this model rating + Suddenly developed traits + Most incriminating. + + Faults in baser spirits deemed + Merely peccadillos + In that crystal mirror seemed + Vast as Biscay billows. + + Cautioned not to over-run + Naval toleration, + He replied in language un- + Fit for publication. + + When the captain in alarm + Strove to solve the riddle, + Edward slipped a dreamy arm + Round that awful middle. + + Such a catastrophic change + Set his shipmates thinking; + Rumour whispered, "It is strange; + Clearly he is drinking." + + Ever more insistent got + This malicious fable, + Till he tied a true-love's knot + In the anchor cable. + + * * * * * + + "During December, 1661, meals for necessitous school children were + provided at Chorley at a cost of 4d. per meal per scholar." + +_Provincial Paper._ + +In gratitude for the Restoration, we suppose. Hence the watchword, "Good +old Chorley!" + + * * * * * + + "Summoned for permitting three houses to stray on Stoke Park on the + 19th inst ... defendant admitted the offence, but said that some + one must have let them out by taking the chain off the + gate."--_Provincial Paper_. + +It seems a reasonable explanation. + +[Illustration: _Officer_ (_to Tommy, who has been using the whip +freely_). "Don't beat him; talk to him, man--talk to him!" + +_Tommy_ (_to horse, by way of opening the conversation_). "I coom from +Manchester."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +The latest of our writers to contribute to the growing literature of the +War is Mr. Hugh Walpole. He has written a book about it called _The Dark +Forest_ (Secker), but whether it is a good or a bad book I who have read +it carefully from cover to cover confess my inability to decide. It is +certainly a clever book, and violently unusual. I doubt whether the War +is likely to produce anything else in the least resembling it. For one +thing, it deals with a phase of the struggle, the Russian retreat +through Galicia, about which we in England are still tragically +ignorant. Mr. Walpole writes of this as he himself has seen it in his +own experience as a worker with the Russian Red Cross. The horrors, the +compensations, the tragedy and happiness of such work have come straight +into the book from life. But not content with this, he has peopled his +mission with fictitious characters and made a story about them. And good +as the story is, full of fine imagination and character, the background +is so tremendously more real that I was constantly having to resist a +feeling of impatience with the false creations (in _Macbeth's_ sense) +who play out their unsubstantial drama before it. Yet I am far from +denying the beauty of Mr. Walpole's idea. The characters of _Trenchard_, +the self-doubting young Englishman, who finds reality in his love for +the nurse _Marie Ivanovna_, and of the Russian doctor, _Semyonov_, who +takes her from him, are exquisitely realized. And the atmosphere of +increasing mental strain, in which, after _Marie's_ death, the tragedy +of these three moves to its climax in the forest is the work of an +artist in emotion, such as by this time we know Mr. Walpole to be. The +trouble was that I had at the moment no wish for artistry. To sum up, I +am left with the impression that an uncommonly good short story rather +tiresomely distracted my attention from some magnificent war-pictures. + + * * * * * + +As Field-Marshal Sir Evelyn Wood, V. C., in _Our Fighting Services_ +(Cassell), begins with the Battle of Hastings and ends with the Boer War +there is no gainsaying the fact that his net has been widely spread. To +assist him in the compilation of this immense tome the author has a +fluent style and--to judge from the authorities consulted and the +results of these consultations--an inexhaustible industry. The one +should make his book acceptable to the amateur who reads history because +he happens to love it, and the other should make it invaluable to +professionals who handle books of reference, not lovingly, but of +necessity. And having said so much in praise of Sir Evelyn I am also +happy to add that he is, on the whole, that rare thing--an historian +without prejudices. Almost desperately, for instance, he tries to +express his admiration of Oliver Cromwell as a soldier, although he +quite obviously detests him as a man. I find myself, however, wondering +whether Sir Evelyn, were he writing of Cromwell at this hour, would say, +"For a man over forty years of age to work hard to acquire the rudiments +of drill is in itself remarkable." Even when allowance is made for the +differences between the seventeenth and twentieth centuries there would +seem to be nothing very worthy of remark in such energy if one may judge +from the attitude of our War Office to the Volunteers. Naturally one +turns eagerly to see what this distinguished soldier has to say about +campaigns in which he took a personal part, but, although shrewd +criticism is not lacking, Sir Evelyn's sword has been more destructive +than his pen. In these days of tremendous events this volume may +possibly be slow to come to its own, but in due course it is bound to +arrive. + + * * * * * + +I find, on referring to the "By the same Author" page of _The Lad With +Wings_ (Hutchinson), that other reviewers of "Berta Buck's" novels have +been struck by the "charm" of her work. I should like to be original, +but I cannot think of any better way of summing up the quality of her +writing. Charm above everything else is what _The Lad With Wings_ +possesses. It is a perfectly delightful book, moving at racing speed +from the first chapter to the last, and so skilfully written that even +the technically unhappy ending brings no gloom. When _Gwenna Williams_ +and _Paul Dampier_, the young airman she has married only a few hours +before the breaking out of war, go down to death together in mid-Channel +after the battle with the German Taube, the reader feels with _Leslie +Long, Gwenna's_ friend, "The best time to go out! No growing old and +growing dull.... No growing out of love with each other, ever! They at +least have had something that nothing can spoil." I suppose that when +Mrs. Oliver Onions is interviewed as to her literary methods it will +turn out that she re-writes everything a dozen times and considers +fifteen hundred words a good day's work; but she manages in _The Lad +With Wings_ to convey an impression of having written the whole story at +a sitting. The pace never flags for a moment, and the characters are +drawn with that apparently effortless skill which generally involves +anguish and the burning of the midnight oil. I think I enjoyed the art +of the writing almost as much as the story itself. If you want to see +how a sense of touch can make all the difference, you should study +carefully the character of _Leslie_, a genuine creation. But the book +would be worth reading if only for the pleasure of meeting _Hugo +Swayne_, the intellectual _dilettante_ who, when he tried to enlist, was +rejected as not sufficiently intelligent and then set to painting +omnibuses in the Futurist mode, to render them invisible at a distance. +A few weeks from now I shall take down _The Lad With Wings_ from its +shelf and read it all over again. It is that sort of book. + + * * * * * + +When old _Lady Polwhele_ asked the _Reverend Dr. Gwyn_ to let his +daughter _Delia_ go with her as companion to a very smart house party, I +doubt whether the excellent man would have given so ready an assent had +he known what was going to come of it. For my own part I suspected we +were in for yet another version of _Cinderella_, with _Delia_ snubbed by +the smart guests, and eventually united, as like as not, to young _Lord +Polwhele_. However, Miss Dorothea Townshend, who has written about all +these people in _A Lion, A Mouse and a Motor Car_ (Simpkin), had other +and higher views for her heroine. True, the house party was ultra-smart; +true also that there was one woman who spoke and behaved cattishly; but +it was a refreshing novelty to find that throughout the tale the ugly +sisters, so to speak, were hopelessly outnumbered by the fairy +godmothers. Later, the visit led to _Delia's_ going as governess to the +children of a Russian Princess, and finding herself in circles that +might be described as not only fast but furious. Here we were in a fine +atmosphere of intrigue, with spies, and Grand Dukes, and explosive golf +balls and I don't know what beside. It is all capital fun; and, though I +am afraid the political plots left me unconvinced, the thing is told +with such ease and _bonhomie_ that it is saved from banality; even when +the amazing cat of the house-party turns up as a female bandit and tries +to hold _Delia_ and her Princess to ransom. And of course the fact that +the period of the tale is that of the earliest motors gives it the +quaintest air of antiquity. Somehow, talk of sedan chairs would sound +more modern than these thrills of excitement about six cylinders and +"smelly petrol." In short, for many reasons Miss Townshend's book +provides a far brisker entertainment than its cumbrous title would +indicate. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Stephen Graham is fast becoming the arch-interpreter of Holy Russia. +In _The Way of Martha and the Way of Mary_ (Macmillan) he returns with +even more than his customary zeal to his good work, wishing herein +specifically to interpret Russian Christianity to the West. A passionate +earnestness informs his discursive eloquence. I cannot resist the +conviction that he has the type of mind that sees most easily what it +wishes to see. He moves cheerily along, incidentally raising +difficulties which he does not solve, ignoring conclusions which seem +obvious, throwing glorious generalisations and unharmonised +contradictions at the bewildered reader, too bent on his generous +purpose to glance aside for any explanations. Perhaps this is the best +method for an enthusiast to pursue. He certainly creates a vivid picture +of this strangely unknown allied people, with its incredible +otherworldliness, its broad tolerant charity, its freedom from chilly +conventions, its joyous neglect of the hustle and fussiness of Western +life, its deep faith, its childish or childlike superstitions, the +glorious promise of its future. An interesting--even a +fascinating--rather than a conclusive book. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "I haven't had any address for the last few months, so +the authorities have overlooked me. I'd like to join all right, but the +missus can't spare me. I'm a bit of a fisherman and I play the +concertina. Now, what sort of an armlet do I get?"] + + * * * * * + +A Super-Bridegroom. + + "In his seventy-third year the Earl of ---- has made his third + matrimonial venture this week."--_Yorkshire Evening Post._ + +* * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol +150, February 9, 1916, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH/CHARIVARI, FEB 9, 1916 *** + +***** This file should be named 29518-8.txt or 29518-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/5/1/29518/ + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Jonathan Ingram 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 150, February 9, 1916 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: July 27, 2009 [EBook #29518] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH/CHARIVARI, FEB 9, 1916 *** + + + + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Jonathan Ingram and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 150.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>FEBRUARY 9, 1916.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + +<p><!-- Page 97 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page97" id="page97">[pg 97]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<a href="images/132.png"><img width="100%" src="images/132.png" alt="Tommy. "'Ere, Ted, what's the matter?" +Ted (ex-plumber). "Wy, I'm goin' back for me baynet, o' course."" title="Tommy. "'Ere, Ted, what's the matter?" +Ted (ex-plumber). "Wy, I'm goin' back for me baynet, o' course."" /></a> +<p>Tommy. "'Ere, Ted, what's the matter?"<br/> +Ted (ex-plumber). "Wy, I'm goin' back for me baynet, o' course."</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p>The German claim that as the result +of the Zeppelin raid "England's industry +to a considerable extent is in +ruins" is probably based on the fact +that three breweries were bombed. To +the Teuton mind such a catastrophe +might well seem overwhelming.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A possible explanation of the Government's +action in closing the Museums +is furnished by the <i>Cologne Gazette</i>, +which observes that "if one wanted +to find droves of Germans in London +one had only to go to the museums." +But if the Government is closing +them merely for purposes of disinfection +it might let us know.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Irritated by the pro-German conversation +of one of the guests at an +American dinner-party the English +butler poured the gravy over him. +The story is believed to have greatly +annoyed the starving millionaires in +Berlin. They complain that their exiled +fellow-countrymen get all the luck.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Is the Office of Works feeding Germany? +We have lately learned that +no bulbs are to be planted in the +London parks this season; and almost +simultaneously we read in the <i>Frankfurter +Zeitung</i> a suggestion that, as +bulbs are so cheap owing to the falling-off +in the English demand, they should +be used as food by the German housewife. +What has Mr. <span class="smcap">Harcourt</span> to +say about this?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Ted Heaton</span>, a noted Liverpool +swimmer, is acting as sergeant-instructor +to the Royal Fusiliers at +Dover, and is expected to have them +in a short time quite ready for the +trenches.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A London magistrate has ruled that +poker is a game of chance. He was +evidently unacquainted with the leading +case in America, where, on the +same point arising, the judge, the +counsel and the parties adjourned for a +quiet game, and the defendant triumphantly +demonstrated that it was a +game of skill.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>In an article describing the wonders +of modern French surgery Mrs. W.K. +<span class="smcap">Vanderbilt</span> mentioned that she had +watched an operation in which a part +of a man's rib was taken out and used +as a jawbone. "Pooh!" said the much-married +general practitioner who read +it, "that's as old as Adam."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A man who applied recently to be +enlisted in the Royal Flying Corps as +a carpenter was medically rejected because +he had a hammer toe. If he +had lost a nail we could have understood +it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The following letter has been received +by the matron of an Indian hospital:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear and fair Madam</span>,-I have much +pleasure to inform you that my dearly unfortunate +wife will be no longer under your care, +she having left this world for the next on the +27th ult. For your help in this matter I +shall ever remain grateful. +Yours reverently, ——."</p></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A correspondent, anxious about +etiquette, writes:—"Sir,—The other +day I offered my seat to the lady-conductor +of a tramcar. Did I right?—Yours +truly, <span class="smcap">Noblesse Oblige</span>."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It is stated that one of the principal +items of discussion during the new +Session of the Prussian Diet will be +a Supplementary War Bill. Some of +the members are expected to protest, +on the ground that the present War +is quite sufficient, thank you.<!-- Page 98 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page98" id="page98">[pg 98]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>INTELLECTUAL RETRENCHMENT.</h2> + +<blockquote class="note">[The annual expenses that will be saved by the closing of the +London Museums and Galleries amount to about one-fifth of the +public money spent on the salaries of Members of Parliament.]</blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fetch out your padlocks, bolt and bar the portals,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That none may worship at the Muses' shrine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seal up the gifts bequeathed by our Immortals<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To be the birthright of their ancient line;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At luxury if you would strike a blow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Art and Science be the first to go.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Close down the fanes that guard the golden treasure<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wrung by our hands from Nature's hidden wealth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Treat them as idle haunts of wanton pleasure,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Extremely noxious to the nation's health;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show that our statesmanship at least has won<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A vandal victory o'er the vandal Hun.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when her children whom the seas have sent her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Come to the Motherland to fight her war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And claim their common heritage, to enter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gate of dreams to that enchanted store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To other palaces we'll ask them in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To purer joys of "movies" and of gin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But let us still keep open one collection<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of curiosities and quaint antiques,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under immediate Cabinet direction—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The finest specimens of talking freaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who constitute our most superb Museum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Judged by the salaries with which we fee 'em.<br /></span> +<span class="i20">O.S.</span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>DIPLOMACY.</h2> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Tell</span> us," said Phyllis laboriously, "about diploma——" +and there it stuck.</p> + +<p>"Tistics," added Lillah in a superior manner.</p> + +<p>Being an uncle, I can never give my brain a rest. It is +the easiest thing in the world to be found out by a child of +seven.</p> + +<p>"You mean," I said, "diplomatists?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phyllis in a monotone. "Daddy said they-weren't-any earthly-blast-them +and——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" I said hastily. I can imagine what George +said about diplomatists. He held a good deal of Balkan stock.</p> + +<p>"Well, are they?" asked Lillah innocently.</p> + +<p>"Diplomatists," I said, "are people in spats and creased +trousers, and the truth is not in them."</p> + +<p>"What is spats?" asked Phyllis.</p> + +<p>"Spats," I answered, "are what people wear when they +want to get a job and their boots are shabby."</p> + +<p>"Are diplomatists shabby?" queried Lillah.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," I answered rather bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Do they want jobs?"</p> + +<p>"They want to keep them," I said.</p> + +<p>"So they have spats," said Phyllis, completely satisfied.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," I said. "Then they go into an extremely +grand room together and talk."</p> + +<p>"What about?" said Lillah.</p> + +<p>"Oh, anything that turns up," I answered—"the rise +in prices or the late thaw; or if everything fails they simply +make personal remarks."</p> + +<p>"Like clergymen," said Phyllis vaguely.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," I said. "And all round the building are +secret police disguised as reporters, and reporters disguised +as secret police. And then each of the diplomatists goes +away and writes a white paper, or a black paper, or a +greeny-yellow paper, to show that he was right."</p> + +<p>"And then?" Phyllis gaped with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Then everybody organises, and centralises, and fraternises, +and defraternises, and, in the end, mobilises."</p> + +<p>Phyllis and Lillah simply stared.</p> + +<p>"Why?" they both gasped.</p> + +<p>"Oh, just to show the diplomatists were wrong," I said +airily.</p> + +<p>"And then?" said Lillah breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"The ratepayers pay more."</p> + +<p>"What is a ratepayer?" asked Phyllis.</p> + +<p>"A notorious geek and gull," I said, borrowing from a +more distinguished writer.</p> + +<p>Lillah stared at me with misgiving.</p> + +<p>"But why don't the diplomists say what's true?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"Because," I said, "they'd lose their money and nobody +would love them."</p> + +<p>"But," said Phyllis, "Mummie said if we were good +everyone would love us."</p> + +<p>"Your mother was quite right," I answered, with a +distinct twinge of that thin-ice feeling.</p> + +<p>"Well, but you said nobody would love diplomists if +they were good," said Phyllis.</p> + +<p>"So good people aren't loved," added Lillah, "and +Mummie said what wasn't true."</p> + +<p>I fought desperately for a reply. This could not be +allowed to pass. It struck at the roots of nursery constitutionalism.</p> + +<p>"Ah," I said, without any pretence at logic, "but the +poor diplomatists don't know any better."</p> + +<p>"Like the heathen that Mummie tells us about on +Sunday?"</p> + +<p>"Between the heathen and a diplomatist," I said, "there +is nothing to choose."</p> + +<p>Phyllis sighed. "I wish I didn't know any better," she +said yearningly. Lillah looked at me dangerously from the +corner of her eye.</p> + +<p>"And got money for it," she added.</p> + +<p>"Would you like to play zoo?" I said hastily.</p> + +<p>They were silent.</p> + +<p>"I'll be a bear," I said eagerly—"a polar one."</p> + +<p>No answer. I felt discouraged, but I made another effort. +"Or," I said, "I can be a monkey and you can throw nuts +at me, or" —desperately— "a ring-tailed lemur, or an orangoutang, +or an ant-eater...." My voice tailed away and +there was silence. Then the small voice of Phyllis broke in.</p> + +<p>"Uncle," she said, "why aren't you a diplomist?"</p> + +<p>At that point Nurse came in and I slid quietly off. As +I was going out of the door I heard the voice of Lillah.</p> + +<p>"Nannie," she said, "tell us about diplomists."</p> + +<p>"You leave diplomatists alone, Miss Lillah," said Nurse; +"they won't do you no harm if you don't talk about +them."</p> + +<p>Now why couldn't I have thought of that? It's just +training, I suppose.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h3>An Impending Apology.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Lieut.-Col. —— is out of the city in the interests of recruiting."</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="right"><i>Winnipeg Evening Tribune.</i></p></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Nevertheless a strong Bulgarophone and Turkophone feeling prevails +in Greece, especially in military circles."</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="right"><i>Balkan News</i> (<i>Salonika</i>).</p></div> + +<p>"Master's Voice," we presume.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"'Theodore Wolff says:—'Other peace orators have followed Lord +Loreburn and Lord Courtney in the House of Lords. One must not +awaken the belief that such prophets can accomplish miracles of +conversation in a day.'"—<i>Winnipeg Evening Tribune.</i></p></div> + +<p>We think Herr <span class="smcap">Wolff</span> underestimates Lord <span class="smcap">Courtney's</span> +powers in this direction.<!-- Page 99 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page99" id="page99">[pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<a href="images/134.png"><img width="100%" src="images/134.png" alt="ECONOMY IN LUXURIES. + +First Philistine. "I'm All With the Government Over This Closing Of +Museums. I Never Touch 'em Myself." + +Second Philistine. "Same Here. Waiter, Get Me a Couple of Stalls for The +Frivolity."" title="" /></a> +<h3>ECONOMY IN LUXURIES.</h3> +<p> +First Philistine. "I'm All With the Government Over This Closing Of +Museums. I Never Touch 'em Myself." +<br/><br/> +Second Philistine. "Same Here. Waiter, Get Me a Couple of Stalls for The +Frivolity."</p> +</div><p><!-- Page 100 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page100" id="page100">[pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"> +<a href="images/135.png"><img width="100%" src="images/135.png" alt="AT OUR PATRIOTIC BAZAAR. + +Devoted Stall-holder. "I hardly like to ask you, Mr. +Thrush, but the Committee would be so grateful if +you would write one of your sweet verses on each +of these eggs for wounded soldiers!"" title="" /></a> + +<h3>AT OUR PATRIOTIC BAZAAR.</h3> + +<p>Devoted Stall-holder. "I hardly like to ask you, Mr. +Thrush, but the Committee would be so grateful if +you would write one of your sweet verses on each +of these eggs for wounded soldiers!"</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>JILLINGS.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">I have</span> always been very fond and proud of my niece +Celia. With an exceptionally attractive appearance and a +personal fascination that is irresistible she combines the +sweetest and most unselfish nature it has ever been my +good fortune to meet. Indeed, she has so excessive a consideration +for the feelings of everybody but herself that she +drifts into difficulties which she might have avoided by a +little more firmness. As, for example, in the case of +Jillings. Celia and Jack have been married six years; he +is about twelve years older than she, and a capital good +fellow, though he is said to have rather a violent temper. +But he has never shown it with Celia—nobody could, +had left the Army on his marriage +and settled down in a +pretty little place in Surrey, but +of course rejoined the Service +as soon as the War broke out. +So long as he was in training +with his regiment she took +rooms in the neighbourhood, +but when he was ordered to +the Front about a year ago she +and the children returned to the +Surrey home, and it was then +that Celia engaged Jillings as +parlourmaid. I saw her shortly +afterwards when I went down +to stay for a night, and was +struck by the exuberant enthusiasm +with which she waited—not +over efficiently—at table. +Celia remarked afterwards that +Jillings was a little inexperienced +as yet, but so willing and warm-hearted, +and with such a sensitively +affectionate disposition +that the least hint of reproof +sufficed to send her into a flood +of tears.</p> + +<p>I had no idea then—nor had +Celia—how much inconvenience +and embarrassment can be +produced by a warm-hearted +parlour-maid. Jillings' devotion +did not express itself in a +concrete form until Celia's +birthday, and the form it took +was that of an obese and unimaginably hideous pincushion +which mysteriously appeared on her dressing-table. +Old and attached servants are in the habit of presenting +their employers on certain occasions with some appropriate +gift, and no one would be churlish enough to discourage so +kindly a practice. But Jillings, it must be owned, was +beginning it a bit early. However, Celia thanked her as +charmingly as though she had been longing all her life for +exactly such a treasure. Still, it was not only unnecessary +but distinctly unwise to add that it should be placed in her +wardrobe for safety, as being much too gorgeous for everyday +use. Because all she gained by this consummate tact +was another pincushion, not quite so ornate perhaps, but +even cruder in colour, and this she was compelled to assign a +prominent position among her toilet accessories.</p> + +<p>These successes naturally encouraged Jillings to further +efforts. Celia had the misfortune one day to break a piece +of valuable old porcelain which had stood on her drawing-room +mantelpiece, whereupon the faithful Jillings promptly +replaced the loss by a china ornament purchased by herself. +Considered merely as an article of <i>vertu</i> it was about +on a par with the pincushions, but Celia accepted it in the +spirit with which it had been offered. And, warned by +experience, she did not lock it up in the obscurity of a +cabinet, nor contrive that some convenient accident should +befall it, wisely preferring "to bear those ills she had than +fly to others," etc. And so it still remains a permanent +eyesore on her mantelshelf.</p> + +<p>Then it seemed that Jillings, who, by the way, was not +uncomely, had established friendly relations with one of +the gardeners at the big house of the neighbourhood—with +the result that Celia found her sitting-rooms replenished +at frequent intervals with the most magnificent specimens +of magnolia, tuberose, stephanotis and gardenia. Unfortunately +she happens to be one +of those persons whom any +strongly scented flowers afflict +with violent headache. But she +never mentioned this for fear of +wounding Jillings' susceptibilities. +Luckily, Jillings and the +under-gardener fell out in a +fortnight.</p> + +<p>As was only to be expected, +the other servants, being equally +devoted to their mistress, could +not allow Jillings to monopolize +the pride and glory of putting +her under an obligation. Very +soon a sort of competition +sprang up, each of them endeavouring +to out-do the other +in giving Celia what they +termed, aptly enough, "little +surprises," till they hit upon +the happy solution of clubbing +together for the purpose. Thus +Celia, having, out of the kindness +of her heart, ordered an +expensive lace hood for the +baby from a relation of the +nurse's at Honiton, was dismayed +to discover, when the +hood arrived, that it was +already paid for and was a joint +gift from the domestics. After +that she felt, being Celia, that +it would be too ungracious to +insist on refunding the money.</p> + +<p>It was not until I was staying with her last Spring that +I heard of all these excesses. But at breakfast on Easter +Sunday not only did Celia, Tony and the baby each receive +an enormous satin egg filled with chocolates, but I was +myself the recipient of one of these seasonable tokens, being +informed by the beaming Jillings that "we didn't want <i>you</i>, +Sir, to feel you'd been forgotten." By lunch-time it +became clear that she had succeeded in animating at least +one of the local tradesmen with this spirit of reckless liberality. +For when Celia made a mild inquiry concerning a +sweetbread which she had no recollection of having ordered +Jillings explained, with what I fear I must describe as a +self-conscious smirk, that it was "a little Easter orfering +from the butcher, Madam." I am bound to say that even +Celia was less scrupulous about hurting the butcher's feelings—no +doubt from an impression that his occupation +must have cured him of any over-sensitiveness.</p> + +<p>As soon as we were alone she told me all she had been +enduring, which it seemed she had been careful not to +mention in her letters to Jack. "I simply can't tell you,<!-- Page 101 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page101" id="page101">[pg 101]</a></span> +Uncle," she concluded pathetically, "how wearing it is to +be constantly thanking somebody for something I'd ever +so much rather be without. And yet—what else can I do?"</p> + +<p>I suggested that she might strictly forbid all future +indulgence in these orgies of generosity, and she supposed +meekly that she should really have to do something of that +sort, though we both knew how extremely improbable it +was that she ever would.</p> + +<p>This morning I had a letter from her. Jack had got +leave at last and she was expecting him home that very +afternoon, so I must come down and see him before his six +days expired. "I wish now," she went on, "that I had +taken your advice, but it was so difficult somehow. Because +ever since I told Jillings and the others about Jack's +coming home they have been going about smiling so +importantly that I'm horribly afraid they're planning +some dreadful surprise, and I daren't ask them what. +Now I must break off, as I must get ready to go to the +station with Tony and meet dear Jack...."</p> + +<p>Then followed a frantic postscript. "I know <i>now</i>! +They've dressed poor Tony up in a little khaki uniform +that doesn't even fit him! And, what's worse, they've +put up a perfectly terrible triumphal arch over the front +gate, with 'Hail to our Hero' on it in immense letters. +They all seem so pleased with themselves—and anyway +there's no time to alter anything now. But I don't know +what Jack will say."</p> + +<p>I don't either, but I could give a pretty good guess. I +shall see him and Celia to-morrow. But I shall be rather +surprised if I see Jillings.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="right">F.A.</p></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<a href="images/136.png"><img width="100%" src="images/136.png" alt="Old Lady (quite carried away). "How nice it is to have the ticket proffered, as it were, instead of thrust upon one!"" title="" /></a> +<p>Old Lady (quite carried away). "How nice it is to have the ticket proffered, as it were, instead of thrust upon one!"</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>THE WELL-DISPOSED ONES.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>With acknowledgments to the back page of "The Referee."</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Bertram Brazenthwaite</span>, Basso-Profondo (varicose +veins and flat feet), respectfully informs his extensive <i>clientèle</i> +that he has a few vacant dates at the end of 1917. +Comings-of-Age, Jumble Sales and Fabian Society Soirees +a specialité.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Sir Sawyer Hackett, M.D., writes: "The physical defects which +prevent Mr. Brazenthwaite from joining the colours have left his +vocal gifts and general gaiety unimpaired."</p></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Do you</span> want your Christening to be a <i>succès fou</i>? Then +send for <span class="smcap">Hubert the Homunculus</span>, London's Premier +Baby-Entertainer (astigmatism, and conscientious objections).</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Hubert the Homunculus would make a kitten laugh."—<span class="smcap">Hilary +Joye</span>, in <i>The Encore</i>.</p></div> + +<p>High-art pamphlet from "The Lebanons," New North +Road, N.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jolly Jenkin</span>, Patriotic Prestidigitator (Group 98). +Nominal terms to the Army, Navy and Civic Guard. +Address till end of week, The Parthenon, Puddlecombe. +Next, Reigate Rotunda.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>The Epoch</i> says: "Jolly Jenkin has the Evil Eye. In the Middle +Ages he would have been burnt.".</p></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Men who are physically fit can be released from clerical duties and +replaced by hen only fit for sedentary occupations."—<i>Daily Paper.</i></p></div> + +<p>Broody, in fact.<!-- Page 102 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page102" id="page102">[pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>HOW I DINED WITH THE PRESIDENT.</h2> + +<h3> +<span class="smcap">The Truth about Wilson.</span><br /> +[SPECIAL TO <i>PUNCH</i>.]</h3> + +<p>On Saturday, January 22nd, I +arrived in Washington from Seattle. +The Seattle part is another story.</p> + +<p>What I have to tell to-day, here, +now, and once for all, is what I saw of +the President at close quarters outside +and inside the White House and what +happened at the historic dinner-party, +at which I was the only representative +of a belligerent country present.</p> + +<p>By a fortunate coincidence Mr. +<span class="smcap">Wilson</span> arrived at the railway depôt +on his return from a game of golf +with his secretary, Mr. <span class="smcap">Tumulty</span>, as I +was loitering at the bookstall. I had +never seen either of them before, but +intuitively recognised them in a flash. +Mr. <span class="smcap">Tumulty</span> looked exactly as a man +with so momentous a name could only +look. <span class="smcap">The President</span> was garbed in a +neutral-tinted lounge-suit and wore a +dark fawn overcoat and dove-coloured +spats.</p> + +<p>How did the <span class="smcap">President</span> look? Well, +his face was obviously the face of a +changed man. Not that he is changed +for the worse. He seemed in the pink +of condition, and his clean-cut profile +and firm jaw radiated inflexible determination +at every pore. No signs of +a moustache are yet visible on his +finely-chiselled upper lip.</p> + +<p>I had no introduction, and no time +was to be lost, so without a moment's +hesitation I strode up to the <span class="smcap">President</span> +and said, "Permit me, Sir, as the +accredited representative of a neutral +nation, to offer you this token of respect," +and handed him a small Dutch +cheese, a dainty to which I had been +informed he was especially partial. The +<span class="smcap">President</span> smiled graciously, handed +the offering to his secretary, and said, +"I thank you, Sir. Won't you join +us at the White House at dinner to-night?" +I expressed my acceptance +in suitable terms, bowed and passed on.</p> + +<p>The dinner took place in the famous +octagonal dining-room of the White +House, which was profusely decorated +with the flags of the Scandinavian +Kingdoms, Spain, Greece, China, Chile, +Peru, Brazil and the Argentine.</p> + +<p>The band of the Washington Post +Office Rifles was ensconced behind a +trellis of olive branches and discoursed +a choice selection of soothing music. +Flagons of grape-juice and various light +and phosphorescent beverages stood +on the sideboard. It was a memorable +scene and every detail was indelibly +impressed on my mind. The <span class="smcap">President</span> +greeted his guests with the calm dignity +proper to his high office. He +does not affect the high handshake of +English smart society, but a firm yet +gentle clasp. In repose his features +reminded me of <span class="smcap">Julius Cæsar</span>, but +when he smiles he recalls the more +genial lineaments of the great <span class="smcap">Pompey</span>. +The general impression created on +my mind was one of refined simplicity. +As the <span class="smcap">President</span> himself remarked, +quoting <span class="smcap">Thucydides</span> to one of his +Greek guests, [Greek: philukalonmen meht ehuteleias].</p> + +<p>It is quite untrue that the conversation +was confined to the English tongue. +On the contrary all the neutral languages, +except Chinese, were spoken, +the <span class="smcap">President</span> showing an equal facility +in every one, and honourably making a +point of never uttering two consecutive +sentences in the same tongue. War +topics were rigorously eschewed, and so +far as I could follow the conversation—I +only speak five of the neutral languages—the +subjects ranged from golf +to hygienic clothing, from co-education +to coon-can.</p> + +<p>I do not propose here and now to +state the circumstances in which, on +leaving the White House, I was kidnapped +by some emissaries of Count +<span class="smcap">Bernstorff</span>, and ultimately consigned +to the Tombs in New York on a false +charge of manslaughter; how I narrowly +escaped being electrocuted, and +was subsequently deported to Bermuda +as an undesirable alien. What I saw +and endured in the Tombs is another +story. What really matters is the Bill +of Fare of the <span class="smcap">President</span>'s dinner, +which was printed in Esperanto and +ran as follows:—</p> + +<p class="center">Turtle Dove Soup.<br/> +Norwegian Salmon Cutlets.<br/> +Iceland Reindeer Steak.<br/> +Tipperusalein Artichokes and Spanish Onions.<br/> +Chaudfroid à la Woodrow.<br/> +Irene Pudding.<br/> +Dutch Cheese Straws.<br/> +Brazil Nuts.</p> + +<p>After dinner Greek cigarettes were +handed round with small cups of China +tea and, as an alternative, Peruvian +<i>maté.</i></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>THE INVASION.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">I thought</span>—being very old indeed, +"older," as a poem by Mr. <span class="smcap">Sturge +Moore</span> begins, "than most sheep"—I +thought, being so exceedingly mature +and disillusioned, that I knew all the +worries of life. Yet I did not; there +was still one that was waiting for me +round the corner, but I know that +too, now.</p> + +<p>I will tell you about it.</p> + +<p>To begin with, let me describe myself. +I am an ordinary quiet-living obscure +person, neither exalted nor lowly, who, +having tired of town, took a little +place in the country and there settled +down to a life of placidity, varied by +such inroads upon ease as all back-to-the-landers +know: now a raid on the +chickens by a fox, whose humour it is +not to devour but merely to decapitate; +now the disappearance of the gardener +at Lord <span class="smcap">Derby's</span> coat-tails; now a +flood; and now and continually a desire +on the part of the cook to give a month's +notice, if you please, and the consequent +resumption of correspondence +with the registry office. There you +have the main lines of the existence +not only of myself, but of thousands +of other English rural recluses. But +for such little difficulties I have been +happy—a Cincinnatus ungrumbling.</p> + +<p>The new fly entered the ointment +about three weeks ago, when a parcel +was brought to me by a footman from +the Priory, some three miles away, with +a message to the effect that it had been +delivered there and opened in error. +They were of course very sorry.</p> + +<p>I asked how the mistake had +occurred.</p> + +<p>"Same name," he said. "The house +has just been let furnished to some +people of the same name as yourself."</p> + +<p>Now I have always rather prided +myself on the rarity of my name. I +don't go so far as to claim that it came +over with the <span class="smcap">Conqueror</span>, but it is an +old name and an uncommon one, and +hitherto I had been the only owner of +it in the district. To have it duplicated +was annoying.</p> + +<p>Worse however was to come.</p> + +<p>I do not expect to be believed, but +it is a solemn fact that within a fortnight +two more bearers of my name +moved into the village. One was a +cowman, and the other a maiden lady, +so that at the present moment there +are four of us all opening or rejecting +each other's letters. The thing is +absurd. One might as well be named +Smith right away.</p> + +<p>I don't mind the cowman, but the +maiden lady is a large order. I have, +as I say, lived in this place for some +time—at least six years—and she +moved into The Laurels only ten days +ago, but when she came round this +morning with an opened telegram that +was not meant for her, she had the +maiden—ladylikehood to remark how +awkward it was when other people +had the same name as herself. "There +should," she said, "never be more than +one holder of a name in a small place."</p> + +<p>I had no retort beyond the obvious +one that I got there first; but I hope +that the cowman henceforth gets all +her correspondence and delays it. He +is welcome to mine so long as he deals +faithfully with hers.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Balakn Centre has shifted</span>."</p> +<p class="right"><i>Toronto Mail</i>.</p></div> + +<p>So we observe.<!-- Page 103 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page103" id="page103">[pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>MR. PUNCH'S POTTED FILMS. THE WILD WEST DRAMA.</h2> + +<h3>THE ROSEBUD OF GINGER'S GULCH.</h3> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<table style="text-align:center;" summary="The Rosebud Of Ginger's Gulch"> +<tr> +<td width="50%"> + <a href="images/138a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/138a.png" alt="The Green-Eyed Monster." title="" /></a><br/> + <div class="caption">The Green-Eyed Monster.</div> +</td> + +<td width="50%"> + <a href="images/138b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/138b.png" alt="On the Trail." title="" /></a><br/> + <div class="caption">On the Trail.</div> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> + <a href="images/138c.png"><img width="100%" src="images/138c.png" alt=""He has left his pocket-handkerchief, and he has a + cold in the head. I must take it to him."" title="" /></a><br/> + <div class="caption">"He has left his pocket-handkerchief, and he has a + cold in the head. I must take it to him."</div> +</td> + +<td> + <a href="images/138d.png"><img width="100%" src="images/138d.png" alt=""You have five seconds more to live."" title="" /></a><br/> + <div class="caption">"You have five seconds more to live."</div> +</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> + <a href="images/138e.png"><img width="100%" src="images/138e.png" alt="In the nick of time." title="" /></a><br/> + <p>In the nick of time.</p> +</td> + +<td> + <a href="images/138f.png"><img width="100%" src="images/138f.png" alt=""Darling!"" title="" /></a><br/> + <p>"Darling!"</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr class="full" /> + +<p style="clear:both"><!-- Page 104 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page104" id="page104">[pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<a href="images/139.png"><img width="100%" src="images/139.png" alt="THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING YOUNG. + +Office-Boy engaging a suitable Employer." title="" /></a> +<h3>THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING YOUNG.</h3> + +<p>Office-Boy engaging a suitable Employer.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>NEWS FROM KIEL.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>By our Naval Expert.</i>)</p> + +<p>An interesting little item of news in +the daily papers of last Wednesday +may have escaped notice. It appears +that the German Liners which have +been laid up in New York harbour for +the last eighteen months have discovered +that their magnetic deviation +has been affected. This is the explanation +of the recent movement in the +harbour, when all the German ships +were turned round so as to readjust +their compasses.</p> + +<p>The special significance of this information +is to be found by taking it in +conjunction with the recent puzzling +reports of movements of the German +High Seas Fleet. It will be remembered +that the Fleet was represented in +an enemy official report (with the customary +exaggeration) as sweeping out +into the North Sea. That was not +readily believed, but it was generally +felt that there must be something in it, +especially as all manner of rumours of +naval activity kept coming through +from Scandinavia about the same time.</p> + +<p>Our naval experts in this country were +quite at a loss, but to-day the riddle +is solved. What was happening was +that the High Seas Fleet was <i>turning +round</i>.</p> + +<p>I have had the good fortune to fall +in with a neutral traveller—of the usual +high standing and impartial sympathies—who +has supplied a few details. It +seems that great excitement prevailed +at this scene of unwonted bustle and +activity. The operation was carried +out under favourable weather conditions +practically without a hitch, the +casualties being quite negligible, and +the <i>moral</i> of the men, in spite of their +long period of enforced coma, being +absolutely unshaken. One and all have +now cheerfully accepted the disconcerting +changes involved in the new +orientation, and window-boxes have +been generally shifted to the sunny +side.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"On Monday, near Durgerdam, in Holland, +a fresh dyke burst occurred on a length of 50 +metres. Over 200 handbags were at once +thrown into the opening without any visible +result."—<i>Provincial Paper.</i></p></div> + +<p>Still, the sacrifice was well meant.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>THE GOLDEN VALLEY.</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">(Herefordshire.)</span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Abbeydore, Abbeydore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Land of apples and of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the lavish field-gods pour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Song and cider manifold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gilded land of wheat and rye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Land where laden branches cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Apples for the young and old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ripe at Abbeydore!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Abbeydore, Abbeydore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the shallow river spins<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elfin spells for evermore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the mellow kilderkins<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hoard the winking apple-juice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the laughing reapers' use;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the joy of life begins<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There at Abbeydore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Abbeydore, Abbeydore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In whose lap of wonder teems<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Largess from a wizard store,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">World of idle, crooning streams—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From a stricken land of pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May I win to you again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Garden of the God of Dreams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golden Abbeydore.<br /></span> +<!-- Page 105 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page105" id="page105">[pg 105]</a></span></div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<a href="images/140.png"><img width="100%" src="images/140.png" alt="A GERMAN HOLIDAY. + +Child. "PLEASE, SIR, WHAT IS THIS HOLIDAY FOR?" + +Official. "BECAUSE OUR ZEPPELINS HAVE CONQUERED ENGLAND." + +Child. "HAVE THEY BROUGHT US BACK ANY BREAD?" + +Official. "DON'T ASK SILLY QUESTIONS. WAVE YOUR FLAG."" title="" /></a> + +<h3>A GERMAN HOLIDAY.</h3> + +<p>Child. "PLEASE, SIR, WHAT IS THIS HOLIDAY FOR?" +<br/> +Official. "BECAUSE OUR ZEPPELINS HAVE CONQUERED ENGLAND." +<br/> +Child. "HAVE THEY BROUGHT US BACK ANY BREAD?" +<br/> +Official. "DON'T ASK SILLY QUESTIONS. WAVE YOUR FLAG."</p> +</div><p><!-- Page 106 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page106" id="page106">[pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>AT THE FRONT.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is one matter I have hitherto +not touched on, because it has not hitherto +touched on me, and that is Courses.</p> + +<p>The ideal course works like this. +You are sitting up to the ears in mud +under a brisk howitzer, trench mortar +and rifle grenade fire, when a respectful +signaller crawls round a traverse, +remarking, "Message, Sir."</p> + +<p>You take the chit from him languidly, +wondering whether you have earned a +court-martial by omitting to report on +the trench sleeping-suits which someone +in the Rearward Services has +omitted to forward, and you read, still +languidly at first; then you get up and +whoop, throw your primus stove into +the air and proceed to dance on the +parapet, if your trench has one. Then +you settle down and read your message +again to see if it still runs, "You are +detailed to attend three months' Staff +work course at Boulogne, commencing +to-morrow. A car will be at the dump +for you to-night. A month's leave on +completion, of course."</p> + +<p>But all courses are not like this; all +you can say is that some are less unlike +it than others. I was sitting in a warm +billet about twelve noon having breakfast +on the first day out of trenches +when the blow fell on me. I was to +report about two days ago at a School +of Instruction some two hundred yards +away. I gathered that the course +had started without me. I set some +leisurely inquiries in train, in the hope +that it might be over before I joined +up. I also asked the Adjutant whether +I couldn't have it put off till next time +in trenches, or have it debited to me +as half a machine-gun course payable +on demand, or exchange it for a guinea-pig +or a canary, or do anything consistent +with the honour of an officer to +stave it off. For to tell the truth, like +all people who know nothing and have +known it for a long time, I cherish a +deeply-rooted objection to being instructed.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately the Adjutant is one of +those weak fellows who always tell you +that they are mere machines in the +grip of the powers that change great +nations. So on the third day I bought +a nice new slate and satchel and +joined up.</p> + +<p>Even now, after some days of intense +instruction, I find my condition is a +little confused and foggy. Of course +it covers practically the whole field of +military interests, and I ought to be +able to win the War in about three-quarters +of an hour, given a reasonable +modicum of men, guns, indents, +physical training and bayonet exercise, +knowledge of military law, and acquaintance +with the approved methods +of conducting a casualty clearing station, +a mechanical transport column, and a +field kitchen. The confusion of mind +evident in this last sentence is a high +testimonial to the comprehensive nature +of our course.</p> + +<p>Physical training made the strongest +appeal to me. I remember some of +the best words, not perhaps as they +are, but as I caught them from an +almost over-glib expert. Did you know +you had a strabismal vertebra? or, +given a strabismal vertebra, that it +could be developed to almost any +extent by simply 'eaving from the 'ips? +Take my tip and try it next time you're +under shell-fire.</p> + +<p>To-morrow we break up, and I join +the army. The army has gone away +somewhere while I wasn't looking, and +I shall have to make inquiries about +it. You never can tell what these +things will do when not kept under +the strictest observation. My bit <i>may</i> +have gone to Egypt or Nyassaland or +Nagri Sembilan. But I have a depressing +feeling that A 27 <i>x y z</i> iv. 9.8 +will be nearer the mark, and that I +shall find it meandering nightly to +Bk 171 in large droves, there to insert +more and more humps of soggy Belgium +into more and more sandbags. I +don't want to make myself unpleasant +to the War Office, but I really can't see +why we haven't once and for all built +trenches all done up in eight-inch +thick steel plates. They could easily +be brought up ready-made, and simply +sunk into position.</p> + +<p>They would sink all right; you'd +just have to put them down anywhere +and look the other way for a minute. +The difficulty would be to stop the lift +before it got to the basement—if there +is a basement in Flanders.</p> + +<p>There is a tragedy to report. We +were adopted recently by a magpie. +He was a gentle creature of impulsive +habits and strong woodpecking instincts. +Arsène we called him. For +some days he gladdened us with his +soft bright eye. But when we came to +know him well and I relied on him to +break the shells of my eggs every +morning at breakfast, to steal my pens +and spill my ink, to wake me by a +gentle nip on the nose from his firm +but courteous beak, a rough grenadier +came one day to explain a new type of +infernal machine, and, when we went +out, left a detonator on the table.</p> + +<p>I never saw what actually followed, +but we buried Arsène with full military +honours.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Ladies' Self-trimmed Velvet Hate for One +Shilling."—<i>North-Country Paper.</i></p></div> + +<p>The latest fashion in Berlin.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>MORE LIGHT FROM OUR LEADERS.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">By</span> way of a supplement to the +Candle-shade epigrams recently contributed +by various distinguished men +and women of light and leading, we +have been fortunate to secure the +following sentiments for St. Valentine's +Day from several luminaries who were +conspicuously absent from the list.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Harry Lauder</span>, the illustrious +comedian, poetizes as follows:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Let those wha wull compile the nation's annals, +And guide oor thochts in strict historic channels; +Ma Muse prefers, far fra these dull morasses, +To laud the purrrple heather and the lassies."</p></div> + +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Stevenson</span>, the incomparable +cueist, sends this pithy distich:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Big guns are useful in their way, 'tis true, +But nursery cannons have their uses too."</p></div> + +<p>Miss <span class="smcap">Carrie Tubb</span>, the famous soprano, +writes:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Butt me no butts. Though carping critics flout us, +What would <span class="smcap">Diogenes</span> have done without us?"</p></div> + +<p>A distinguished actor gives as his +favourite quotation the couplet from +<span class="smcap">Goldsmith</span>:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"A man he was financially unique, +And passing poor on forty pounds a week."</p></div> + +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Bernard Shaw</span> contributes this +characteristic definition of genius:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Genius consists in an infinite capacity for +giving pain."</p></div> + +<p>The Air Candidate for Mile End +sends the following witty and topical +epigram:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mid war's alarms there is no time for cooing, +But <span class="smcap">Billing</span> may prevent our land's undoing."</p></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"We are all familiar with the poetic words: +'There's many a gem that's born to blush +unseen, and waste its fragrance on the desert +air.'"—<i>Kilmarnock Herald.</i></p></div> + +<p>Our own ignorance of this gem makes +us blush (unseen, we hope).</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">How To Keep Warm</span>.—In Great Britain +I think a shirt, vest and coat enough covering +for the ordinary man. I wear no more."</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="right"><i>Reynolds Newspaper.</i></p></div> + +<p>No one who follows this advice need fear a chill. The police are sure to +make it warm for him.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"When Sir Stanley (now Lord) Buckmaster succeeded Mr. (now Sir) F. +E. Smith in the chief responsibility for the Bureau he made a point +of betting on friendly terms with the representatives of the Fourth +Estate."</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="right"><i>Bristol Times and Mirror.</i></p></div> + +<p>Several of them, it is well known, have +been charged with book-making.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Lady</span> (Young) seeks Sit. in shop; butcher's preferred; would like +to learn scales."</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="right"><i>Morning Paper</i></p></div> + +<p>Why not try a piano-monger's?<!-- Page 107 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page107" id="page107">[pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<a href="images/142-gray.png"><img src="images/142-gray.png" width="100%" alt="She. "And are you only just back from the trenches? How interesting! You will be able to tell us the real +truth about the Kaiser's illness."" title="" /></a> +<p>She. "And are you only just back from the trenches? How interesting! You will be able to tell us the real +truth about the Kaiser's illness."</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>A DUEL OF ENDURANCE.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Our</span> butcher's name is Bones. Yes, +I know it sounds too good to be true. +But I can't help it. Once more, his +name is Bones.</p> + +<p>There is something wrong with +Bones. Mark him as he stands there +among all those bodies of sheep and +oxen, feeling with his thumb the edge +of that long sharp knife and gazing +wistfully across the way to where the +greengrocer's baby lies asleep in its +perambulator on the pavement. Observe +him start with a sigh from his +reverie as you enter his shop. What +is the matter with him? Why should +a butcher sigh?</p> + +<p>I will tell you. He has been thinking +about the <span class="smcap">Kaiser</span>, the <span class="smcap">Kaiser</span> who is +breaking his heart through the medium +of the greengrocer's baby.</p> + +<p>As all the world knows, between the +ages of one and two the best British +babies are built up on beef tea and +mutton broth; at two or thereabouts +they start on small chops. No one can +say when the custom arose. Like so +many of those unwritten laws on +which the greatness of England is +really based it has outgrown the +memory of its origin. But its force +is as universally binding to-day as it +was in Plantagenet times. Thus, +though numerous households since the +War began have temporarily adopted a +vegetarian diet, in the majority of +cases a line has been drawn at the +baby. That is why butchers at present +look on babies as their sheet-anchors. +It is through them that they +keep the toe of their boot inside the +family door. The little things they +send for them serve as a memento of +the old Sunday sirloin, a reminder that +while nuts may nourish niggers the +Briton's true prerogative is beef.</p> + +<p>The greengrocer has given up meat. +But he has done more than this. He +has done what not even a greengrocer +should do. He has broken the tradition +of the ages. He is feeding his +baby on bananas.</p> + +<p>At first the greengrocer's baby did +not like bananas and its cries were +awful. But after a while it got used +to them, and now even when it goes to +bed it clutches one in its tiny hand. +It is not so rosy as it was, but the +greengrocer says red-faced babies are +apoplectic and that the reason it +twitches so much in its sleep is because +it is so full of vitality. He is +advising all his customers to feed their +babies on bananas. Bones does not +care much what happens to the greengrocer's +baby, but he says if it lasts +much longer he will have to put his +shutters up. He is growing very despondent, +and I noticed the other day +that he had given up chewing suet—a +bad sign in a butcher.</p> + +<p>It is a duel of endurance between +Bones and the greengrocer's baby. I +wonder which will win.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Buxton was severely heckled at the +outset from all parts of the room. Each time +he endeavoured to speak he was hailed with a +torrent of howls, hoots and kisses."</p></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p class="right"><i>Provincial Paper</i>.</p></div> + +<p>A notoriously effective way of stopping +the mouth.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p>From the Lady's column in <i>The +Cur</i>:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Now about this word 'damn.' Of course +you all think it is a good old Saxon word! +Well, prepare for a surprise. It is derived +from the Latin damnere."</p></div> + +<p>Well, we are—surprised.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p>Motto for the next Turkish Revolution: +<i>Enver Renversé</i>.<!-- Page 108 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page108" id="page108">[pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<a href="images/143.png"><img width="100%" src="images/143.png" alt="Householder. "But, hang it all, I can't see why that bomb next door should make you want to raise my rent!" + +Landlord. "Don't you perceive, my dear Sir, that your house is now semi-detached?"" title="" /></a> +<p>Householder. "But, hang it all, I can't see why that bomb next door should make you want to raise my rent!" +<br/> +Landlord. "Don't you perceive, my dear Sir, that your house is now semi-detached?"</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>TONNAGE.</h2> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Oh</span>, dear," said Francesca, "everything keeps going +up." She was engaged upon the weekly books and spoke +in a tone of heartfelt despair.</p> + +<p>"Well," I said, "you've known all along how it would +be. Everybody's told you so."</p> + +<p>"Everybody? Who's everybody in this case?"</p> + +<p>"I told you so for one, and Mr. <span class="smcap">Asquith</span> mentioned it +several times, and so did Mr. <span class="smcap">McKenna</span>."</p> + +<p>"I have never," she said proudly, "discussed my weekly +books with Messrs. <span class="smcap">Asquith</span> and <span class="smcap">McKenna</span>. I should +scorn the action."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well," I said. "Keep them away as +far as you can, but they'll still get hold of you. The +<span class="smcap">Chancellor of the Exchequer</span> knows your weekly books +by heart."</p> + +<p>"I wish," she said, "he'd add them up for me. He's a +good adder-up, I suppose, or he wouldn't be what he is."</p> + +<p>"He's fair to middling, I fancy—something like me."</p> + +<p>"<i>You!</i>" she said, in a tone of ineffable contempt. +"You're no good at addition."</p> + +<p>"Francesca," I said, "you wrong me. I'm a great deal +of good. Of course I don't pretend to be able to run three +fingers up three columns of figures a yard long and to write +down the result as £7,956 17<i>s.</i> 8<i>d</i>., or whatever it may be, +without a moment's pause. I can't do that, but for the +ordinary rough-and-tumble work of domestic addition I'm +hard to beat. Only if I'm to do these books of yours there +must be perfect silence in the room. I mustn't be talked to +while I'm wrestling with the nineteens and the seventeens +in the shilling column."</p> + +<p>"In fact," said Francesca, "you ought to be a deaf adder."</p> + +<p>"Francesca," I said, "how could you? Give me the +butcher's book and let there be no more <i>jeux de mots</i> +between us."</p> + +<p>I took the book, which was a masterpiece of illegibility, +and added it up with my usual grace and felicity.</p> + +<p>"Francesca," I said as I finished my task, "my total +differs from the butcher's, but the difference is in his favour, +not in mine. He seems to have imparted variety to his +calculations by considering that it took twenty pence to +make a shilling, which is a generous error. Now let me +deal with the baker while you tackle the grocer, and then +we'll wind up by doing the washing-book together."</p> + +<p>The washing-book was a teaser, the items being +apparently entered in Chaldee, but we stumbled through +it at last.</p> + +<p>"And now," I said, "we can take up the subject of thrift."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to talk about it," she said, "I'm thoroughly +tired of it. We've talked too much about it already."</p> + +<p>"You're wrong there; we haven't talked half enough. +If we had, the books wouldn't have gone up."</p> + +<p>"They haven't gone up," she said. "They're about +the same, but we've been having less."</p> + +<p>"Noble creature," I said, "do you mean to say that +you've docked me of one of my Sunday sausages and the +whole of my Thursday roly-poly pudding and never said +a word about it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you didn't seem to notice it, so I left it alone."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but I did notice it," I said, "but I determined to +suffer in silence in order to set an example to the children."</p> + +<p>"That was bravely done," she said. "It encourages me +to cut down the Saturday sirloin."<!-- Page 109 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page109" id="page109">[pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But what will the servants say? They won't like it."</p> + +<p>"They'll have to lump it then."</p> + +<p>"But I thought servants never lumped it. I thought +they always insisted on their elevenses and all their other +food privileges."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow," she said, "I'm going to make a push for +economy and the servants must push with me. They won't +starve, whatever happens."</p> + +<p>"No, and if they begin to object you can talk to them +about tonnage."</p> + +<p>"That ought to bowl them over. But hadn't I better +know what it means before I mention it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that might be an advantage."</p> + +<p>"You see," she said, "Mrs. Mincer devotes to the reading +of newspapers all the time she can spare from the cooking +of meals and she'd be sure to trip me up if I ventured to +say anything about tonnage."</p> + +<p>"Learn then," I said, "that tonnage means the amount +of space reserved for cargoes on ships—at least I suppose +that's what it means, and——"</p> + +<p>"You don't seem very sure about it. Hadn't you better +look it up?"</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "That's good enough for Mrs. Mincer. +Now if there's an insufficiency of tonnage——"</p> + +<p>"But why should there be an insufficiency of tonnage?"</p> + +<p>"Because," I said, "the Government have taken up so +much tonnage for the purposes of the War. How did you +think the Army got supplied with food and shells and guns +and men? Did you think they flew over to France and +Egypt and Salonica?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be rude," she said. "I didn't introduce this +question of tonnage. You did. And even now I don't see +what tonnage has got to do with our sirloin of beef."</p> + +<p>"I will," I said kindly, "explain it to you all over again. +We have ample tonnage for necessaries, but not for +luxuries."</p> + +<p>"But my sirloin of beef isn't a luxury."</p> + +<p>"For the purpose of my argument," I said, "it is a +luxury and must be treated as such."</p> + +<p>"Do you know," she said, "I don't think I'll bother +about tonnage. I'll tackle Mrs. Mincer in my own way."</p> + +<p>"You're throwing away a great opportunity," I said.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," she said. "If I feel I'm being beaten +I'll call you in. Your power of lucid explanation will pull +me through."</p> + +<p class="right">R.C.L.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<a href="images/144.png"><img width="100%" src="images/144.png" alt="Elder to Beadle. "Well, John, how did you like the strange minister?" + +Beadle. "No Ava, Elder—he's an awfu' frichtened kin' a chap yon. Did ye notice how he aye talked aboot 'oor +adversary, Satan'? Oor own meenister just ca's him plain 'deevil'—he doesna care a dom for him."" title="" /></a> +<p>Elder to Beadle. "Well, John, how did you like the strange minister?" +<br/> +Beadle. "No Ava, Elder—he's an awfu' frichtened kin' a chap yon. Did ye notice how he aye talked aboot 'oor +adversary, Satan'? Oor own meenister just ca's him plain 'deevil'—he doesna care a dom for him."</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>CANADIAN REMOUNTS.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bronco dams they ran by on the ranges of the prairies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heard the chicken drumming in the scented saskatoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw the jewel humming-birds, the flocks of pale canaries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heard the coyotes dirging to the ruddy Northern moon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woolly foals, leggy foals, foals that romped and wrestled,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rolled in beds of golden-rod and charged to mimic fights,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saw the frosty Bear wink out and comfortably nestled<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Close beside their vixen dams beneath the wizard Lights.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far from home and overseas, older now—and wiser,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Branded with the arrow brand, broke to trace and bit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tugging up the grey guns "to strafe the blooming <span class="smcap">Kaiser</span>,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Up the hill to Kemmel, where the Mauser bullets spit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stiffened with the cold rains, mired and tired and gory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Plunging through the mud-holes as the batteries advance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far from home and overseas—but battling on to glory<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the English eighteen-pounders and the soixante-quinzes of France!<br /></span> +<!-- Page 110 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page110" id="page110">[pg 110]</a></span></div></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">"Mrs. Pretty and the Premier."</span></p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"> +<a href="images/145.png"><img width="100%" src="images/145.png" alt="FIRST LOVE; OR THE JEUNE +PREMIER. + +Bill the Premier Mr. Arthur Bourchier. + +Mrs. Pretty Miss Kyrle Bellew." title="" /></a> + +<h3>FIRST LOVE; OR THE JEUNE +PREMIER.</h3> + +<p>Bill the Premier Mr. Arthur Bourchier. +<br/> +Mrs. Pretty Miss Kyrle Bellew.</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">I am</span> not sure that I didn't find Mr. +<span class="smcap">Bourchier's</span> "Foreword" or Apologia +(kindly given away with the programme) +rather more entertaining than the play +itself. As long as the dramatist (a New +Zealander) concerned himself with the +delightfully unconventional atmosphere +of Antipodean politics he was illuminating +and very possibly veracious. +But the relations between the <i>Premier</i> +and the widow <i>Pretty</i>, which promised, +as the title hinted, to be the main attraction, +were such as never could have +occurred on land or sea. It was impossible, +with this farcical element always +obtruding itself, to take the political +features of the play seriously, as I +gather that we were intended to do; +and we got very little help from Mr. +<span class="smcap">Bourchier's</span> own performance, which +was frankly humorous. In his brochure +he tells us with great solemnity that he +is "more than pleased to think that +the play may help to demonstrate to +those of an older civilisation how truly +the best of the so-called Labour politicians +strive to serve their country and +their fellow men.... Premier 'Bill' +demonstrates vividly enough that, heart +and soul, the Australian politician devotes +himself to the uplifting of the +great Commonwealth." Mr. <span class="smcap">Bourchier's</span> +tongue may or may not have +been in his cheek when he penned +these lofty sentiments, but anyhow it +seemed to be there during most of the +play.</p> + +<p>He is on safer ground when he tells +us that "in curiously vivid and pungent +fashion this little play outlines +the breezy freshness and the originality +of outlook which almost invariably +characterise the politicians and statesmen +of the Prairie, the Veldt and the +Bush, and which more than anything +else perhaps differentiates them from +the men of an older land, hampered +as these latter often are by long and +stately traditions." Certainly, in the +matter of addressing its Premier by +a familiar abbreviation of his Christian +name (an authority who has travelled +in these parts assures Mr. <span class="smcap">Bourchier</span> +that he is "quite right:" that "people +would call this Premier 'Bill' in +Australia") the new world differs from +the old. I cannot so much as contemplate +the thought of Mr. <span class="smcap">Asquith</span> +being addressed by the <span class="smcap">Minister Of +Munitions</span> as "Herb," or even "Bert."</p> + +<p>But we have difficulties again with +the Foreword (for I cannot get away +from it) when we come to the question +of the hero's virility. In the play his +secretary says of him, "Bill's not a +man, he's a Premier. A kind of +dynamo running the country at top +speed." Yet the Foreword, after citing +this passage, goes on to insist upon his +"tingling humanity" and hinting at +the need of such a type of manhood at +the present time. "After all," concludes +Mr. <span class="smcap">Bourchier</span> in a spasm of uplift—"after +all, what is the cry of the +moment here in the heart of the +Empire, but for <span class="smcap">'a Man</span>-Give us a +Man!'" But even if we reject the +secretary's estimate of his chief as a +dynamo we still find a certain deficiency +of manhood in the anæmic +indifference of the <i>Premier's</i> attitude +to women; an attitude, by the way, +not commonly associated with Mr. +<span class="smcap">Bourchier's</span> impersonations on the +stage. <i>Mrs. Pretty's</i> tastes are, of course, +her own affair, and we were allowed +little insight into her heart (if any), but +I can only conclude that her choice +was governed by political rather than +emotional considerations ("Let us remember +<span class="smcap">Women Have the Vote In +Australia</span>" is the finale of the Foreword) +and that what she wanted was a +Premier rather than a Man.</p> + +<p>Of the play itself one may at least +say that it kept fairly off the beaten +track. There was novelty in its local +colour, its unfamiliar types and the +episode, adroitly managed, of a pair +of gloves employed to muffle the +division bell at the moment of a crisis +on which the fate of the Government +depended. But the design was too +small to fill the stage of His Majesty's +and it left me a little disappointed. I +was content so long as Mr. <span class="smcap">Bourchier</span> +was in sight, but the part of <i>Mrs. +Pretty</i> needed something more than +the rather conscious graces and airy +drapery of Miss <span class="smcap">Kyrle Bellew</span>. The +rest of the performance was sound but +not very exhilarating; and altogether, +though I hope I am properly grateful +for any help towards the realisation +of "Colonial conditions," I cannot +honestly say that <i>Mrs. Pretty</i> and the +<i>Premier</i> has done very much for me +(as Mr. <span class="smcap">Bourchier</span> hoped it would) by +way of supplementing the thrill of +Anzac. O.S.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>A NAVAL REVELATION.</h2> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Edward Brown's official sheet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Humble though his station,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showed a record which the Fleet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Viewed with admiration.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fifteen stainless summers bore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fruit in serried cluster;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conduct stripes he proudly wore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One for every lustre.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Picture then the blank amaze<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When this model rating<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly developed traits<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Most incriminating.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Faults in baser spirits deemed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Merely peccadillos<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that crystal mirror seemed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Vast as Biscay billows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cautioned not to over-run<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Naval toleration,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He replied in language un-<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fit for publication.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the captain in alarm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Strove to solve the riddle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Edward slipped a dreamy arm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Round that awful middle.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Such a catastrophic change<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Set his shipmates thinking;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rumour whispered, "It is strange;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Clearly he is drinking."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ever more insistent got<br /></span> +<span class="i2">This malicious fable,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till he tied a true-love's knot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the anchor cable.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"During December, 1661, meals for necessitous +school children were provided at Chorley +at a cost of 4d. per meal per scholar."</p></div> + +<p class="right"><i>Provincial Paper.</i></p> + +<p>In gratitude for the Restoration, we +suppose. Hence the watchword, "Good +old Chorley!"</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Summoned for permitting three houses to +stray on Stoke Park on the 19th inst ... +defendant admitted the offence, but said that +some one must have let them out by taking +the chain off the gate."—<i>Provincial Paper</i>.</p></div> + +<p>It seems a reasonable explanation.<!-- Page 111 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page111" id="page111">[pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"> +<a href="images/146.png"><img width="100%" src="images/146.png" alt="Officer (to Tommy, who has been using the whip freely). "Don't beat him; talk to him, man—talk to him!" + +Tommy (to horse, by way of opening the conversation). "I coom from Manchester."" title="" /></a> +<p>Officer (to Tommy, who has been using the whip freely). "Don't beat him; talk to him, man—talk to him!" +<br/> +Tommy (to horse, by way of opening the conversation). "I coom from Manchester."</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> latest of our writers to contribute to the growing +literature of the War is Mr. <span class="smcap">Hugh Walpole</span>. He has +written a book about it called <i>The Dark Forest</i> (<span class="smcap">Secker</span>), +but whether it is a good or a bad book I who have read +it carefully from cover to cover confess my inability to +decide. It is certainly a clever book, and violently unusual. +I doubt whether the War is likely to produce anything else +in the least resembling it. For one thing, it deals with a +phase of the struggle, the Russian retreat through Galicia, +about which we in England are still tragically ignorant. +Mr. <span class="smcap">Walpole</span> writes of this as he himself has seen it in his +own experience as a worker with the Russian Red Cross. +The horrors, the compensations, the tragedy and happiness +of such work have come straight into the book from life. +But not content with this, he has peopled his mission with +fictitious characters and made a story about them. And +good as the story is, full of fine imagination and character, +the background is so tremendously more real that I was +constantly having to resist a feeling of impatience with the +false creations (in <i>Macbeth's</i> sense) who play out their unsubstantial +drama before it. Yet I am far from denying +the beauty of Mr. <span class="smcap">Walpole's</span> idea. The characters of +<i>Trenchard</i>, the self-doubting young Englishman, who finds +reality in his love for the nurse <i>Marie Ivanovna</i>, and of +the Russian doctor, <i>Semyonov</i>, who takes her from him, +are exquisitely realized. And the atmosphere of increasing +mental strain, in which, after <i>Marie's</i> death, the tragedy of +these three moves to its climax in the forest is the work of +an artist in emotion, such as by this time we know Mr. +<span class="smcap">Walpole</span> to be. The trouble was that I had at the +moment no wish for artistry. To sum up, I am left with +the impression that an uncommonly good short story rather +tiresomely distracted my attention from some magnificent +war-pictures.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>As Field-Marshal Sir <span class="smcap">Evelyn Wood</span>, V.C., in <i>Our Fighting +Services</i> (<span class="smcap">Cassell</span>), begins with the Battle of Hastings and +ends with the Boer War there is no gainsaying the fact +that his net has been widely spread. To assist him in the +compilation of this immense tome the author has a fluent +style and—to judge from the authorities consulted and +the results of these consultations—an inexhaustible industry. +The one should make his book acceptable to the +amateur who reads history because he happens to love it, +and the other should make it invaluable to professionals +who handle books of reference, not lovingly, but of necessity. +And having said so much in praise of Sir <span class="smcap">Evelyn</span> I am +also happy to add that he is, on the whole, that rare thing—an +historian without prejudices. Almost desperately, for +instance, he tries to express his admiration of <span class="smcap">Oliver +Cromwell</span> as a soldier, although he quite obviously detests +him as a man. I find myself, however, wondering whether +Sir <span class="smcap">Evelyn</span>, were he writing of <span class="smcap">Cromwell</span> at this hour, +would say, "For a man over forty years of age to work +hard to acquire the rudiments of drill is in itself remark<!-- Page 112 --><span class='pagenum'><a name="page112" id="page112">[pg 112]</a></span>able." +Even when allowance is made for the differences +between the seventeenth and twentieth centuries there +would seem to be nothing very worthy of remark in such +energy if one may judge from the attitude of our War +Office to the Volunteers. Naturally one turns eagerly to +see what this distinguished soldier has to say about +campaigns in which he took a personal part, but, although +shrewd criticism is not lacking, Sir <span class="smcap">Evelyn's</span> sword has +been more destructive than his pen. In these days of +tremendous events this volume may possibly be slow to +come to its own, but in due course it is bound to arrive.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"> +<a href="images/147.png"><img width="100%" src="images/147.png" alt=""I haven't had any address for the last few months, +so the authorities have overlooked me. I'd like to +join all right, but the missus can't spare me. I'm a +bit of a fisherman and I play the concertina. Now, +what sort of an armlet do I get?"" title="" /></a> +<p>"I haven't had any address for the last few months, +so the authorities have overlooked me. I'd like to +join all right, but the missus can't spare me. I'm a +bit of a fisherman and I play the concertina. Now, +what sort of an armlet do I get?"</p> +</div> + +<p>I find, on referring to the "By the same Author" page of +<i>The Lad With Wings</i> (<span class="smcap">Hutchinson</span>), that other reviewers of +"<span class="smcap">Berta Buck's</span>" novels have been struck by the "charm" +of her work. I should like to be original, but I cannot +think of any better way of summing up the quality of her +writing. Charm above everything +else is what <i>The Lad +With Wings</i> possesses. It is a +perfectly delightful book, moving +at racing speed from the +first chapter to the last, and so +skilfully written that even the +technically unhappy ending +brings no gloom. When <i>Gwenna +Williams</i> and <i>Paul Dampier</i>, +the young airman she has married +only a few hours before the +breaking out of war, go down to +death together in mid-Channel +after the battle with the German +Taube, the reader feels with +<i>Leslie Long, Gwenna's</i> friend, +"The best time to go out! No +growing old and growing dull.... +No growing out of love with +each other, ever! They at least +have had something that nothing +can spoil." I suppose that +when Mrs. <span class="smcap">Oliver Onions</span> is +interviewed as to her literary +methods it will turn out that +she re-writes everything a +dozen times and considers +fifteen hundred words a good +day's work; but she manages +in <i>The Lad With Wings</i> to +convey an impression of having written the whole story +at a sitting. The pace never flags for a moment, and +the characters are drawn with that apparently effortless +skill which generally involves anguish and the burning +of the midnight oil. I think I enjoyed the art of the +writing almost as much as the story itself. If you want +to see how a sense of touch can make all the difference, +you should study carefully the character of <i>Leslie</i>, a +genuine creation. But the book would be worth reading if +only for the pleasure of meeting <i>Hugo Swayne</i>, the intellectual +<i>dilettante</i> who, when he tried to enlist, was rejected +as not sufficiently intelligent and then set to painting +omnibuses in the Futurist mode, to render them invisible +at a distance. A few weeks from now I shall take down +<i>The Lad With Wings</i> from its shelf and read it all over +again. It is that sort of book.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>When old <i>Lady Polwhele</i> asked the <i>Reverend Dr. Gwyn</i> +to let his daughter <i>Delia</i> go with her as companion to a +very smart house party, I doubt whether the excellent man +would have given so ready an assent had he known what +was going to come of it. For my own part I suspected we +were in for yet another version of <i>Cinderella</i>, with <i>Delia</i> +snubbed by the smart guests, and eventually united, as +like as not, to young <i>Lord Polwhele</i>. However, Miss +<span class="smcap">Dorothea Townshend</span>, who has written about all these +people in <i>A Lion, A Mouse and a Motor Car</i> (<span class="smcap">Simpkin</span>), +had other and higher views for her heroine. True, the +house party was ultra-smart; true also that there was one +woman who spoke and behaved cattishly; but it was a +refreshing novelty to find that throughout the tale the ugly +sisters, so to speak, were hopelessly outnumbered by the +fairy godmothers. Later, the visit led to <i>Delia's</i> going as +governess to the children of a Russian Princess, and finding +herself in circles that might be described as not only +fast but furious. Here we were in a fine atmosphere of +intrigue, with spies, and Grand Dukes, and explosive golf +balls and I don't know what beside. It is all capital +fun; and, though I am afraid +the political plots left me unconvinced, +the thing is told with +such ease and <i>bonhomie</i> that it +is saved from banality; even +when the amazing cat of the +house-party turns up as a female +bandit and tries to hold <i>Delia</i> +and her Princess to ransom. +And of course the fact that the +period of the tale is that of the +earliest motors gives it the +quaintest air of antiquity. +Somehow, talk of sedan chairs +would sound more modern than +these thrills of excitement about +six cylinders and "smelly +petrol." In short, for many +reasons Miss <span class="smcap">Townshend's</span> book +provides a far brisker entertainment +than its cumbrous +title would indicate.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Stephen Graham</span> is fast +becoming the arch-interpreter +of Holy Russia. In <i>The Way +of Martha and the Way of +Mary</i> (<span class="smcap">Macmillan</span>) he returns +with even more than his customary +zeal to his good work, +wishing herein specifically to +interpret Russian Christianity to the West. A passionate +earnestness informs his discursive eloquence. I +cannot resist the conviction that he has the type of mind +that sees most easily what it wishes to see. He moves +cheerily along, incidentally raising difficulties which he +does not solve, ignoring conclusions which seem obvious, +throwing glorious generalisations and unharmonised contradictions +at the bewildered reader, too bent on his generous +purpose to glance aside for any explanations. Perhaps +this is the best method for an enthusiast to pursue. He +certainly creates a vivid picture of this strangely unknown +allied people, with its incredible otherworldliness, its broad +tolerant charity, its freedom from chilly conventions, its +joyous neglect of the hustle and fussiness of Western life, +its deep faith, its childish or childlike superstitions, the +glorious promise of its future. An interesting—even a +fascinating—rather than a conclusive book.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h3>A Super-Bridegroom.</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"In his seventy-third year the Earl of —— has made his third +matrimonial venture this week."—<i>Yorkshire Evening Post.</i></p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol +150, February 9, 1916, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH/CHARIVARI, FEB 9, 1916 *** + +***** This file should be named 29518-h.htm or 29518-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/5/1/29518/ + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Jonathan Ingram 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 150, February 9, 1916 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: July 27, 2009 [EBook #29518] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH/CHARIVARI, FEB 9, 1916 *** + + + + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Jonathan Ingram and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI + +VOL. 150 + +FEBRUARY 9, 1916 + + + + +[Illustration: _Tommy._ "'Ere, Ted, what's the matter?" _Ted_ +(_ex-plumber_). "Wy, I'm goin' back for me baynet, o' course."] + + * * * * * + +CHARIVARIA. + +The German claim that as the result of the Zeppelin raid "England's +industry to a considerable extent is in ruins" is probably based on the +fact that three breweries were bombed. To the Teuton mind such a +catastrophe might well seem overwhelming. + +* * * + +A possible explanation of the Government's action in closing the Museums +is furnished by the _Cologne Gazette_, which observes that "if one +wanted to find droves of Germans in London one had only to go to the +museums." But if the Government is closing them merely for purposes of +disinfection it might let us know. + +* * * + +Irritated by the pro-German conversation of one of the guests at an +American dinner-party the English butler poured the gravy over him. The +story is believed to have greatly annoyed the starving millionaires in +Berlin. They complain that their exiled fellow-countrymen get all the +luck. + +* * * + +Is the Office of Works feeding Germany? We have lately learned that no +bulbs are to be planted in the London parks this season; and almost +simultaneously we read in the _Frankfurter Zeitung_ a suggestion that, +as bulbs are so cheap owing to the falling-off in the English demand, +they should be used as food by the German housewife. What has Mr. +Harcourt to say about this? + +* * * + +Mr. Ted Heaton, a noted Liverpool swimmer, is acting as +sergeant-instructor to the Royal Fusiliers at Dover, and is expected to +have them in a short time quite ready for the trenches. + +* * * + +A London magistrate has ruled that poker is a game of chance. He was +evidently unacquainted with the leading case in America, where, on the +same point arising, the judge, the counsel and the parties adjourned for +a quiet game, and the defendant triumphantly demonstrated that it was a +game of skill. + +* * * + +In an article describing the wonders of modern French surgery Mrs. W. K. +Vanderbilt mentioned that she had watched an operation in which a part +of a man's rib was taken out and used as a jawbone. "Pooh!" said the +much-married general practitioner who read it, "that's as old as Adam." + +* * * + +A man who applied recently to be enlisted in the Royal Flying Corps as a +carpenter was medically rejected because he had a hammer toe. If he had +lost a nail we could have understood it. + +* * * + +The following letter has been received by the matron of an Indian +hospital:-- + + "Dear and fair Madam,-I have much pleasure to inform you that my + dearly unfortunate wife will be no longer under your care, she + having left this world for the next on the 27th ult. For your help + in this matter I shall ever remain grateful. Yours reverently, + ----." + +* * * + +A correspondent, anxious about etiquette, writes:--"Sir,--The other day +I offered my seat to the lady-conductor of a tramcar. Did I +right?--Yours truly, Noblesse Oblige." + +* * * + +It is stated that one of the principal items of discussion during the +new Session of the Prussian Diet will be a Supplementary War Bill. Some +of the members are expected to protest, on the ground that the present +War is quite sufficient, thank you. + + * * * * * + +INTELLECTUAL RETRENCHMENT. + +[The annual expenses that will be saved by the closing of the London +Museums and Galleries amount to about one-fifth of the public money +spent on the salaries of Members of Parliament.] + + Fetch out your padlocks, bolt and bar the portals, + That none may worship at the Muses' shrine; + Seal up the gifts bequeathed by our Immortals + To be the birthright of their ancient line; + At luxury if you would strike a blow, + Let Art and Science be the first to go. + + Close down the fanes that guard the golden treasure + Wrung by our hands from Nature's hidden wealth; + Treat them as idle haunts of wanton pleasure, + Extremely noxious to the nation's health; + Show that our statesmanship at least has won + A vandal victory o'er the vandal Hun. + + And when her children whom the seas have sent her + Come to the Motherland to fight her war, + And claim their common heritage, to enter + The gate of dreams to that enchanted store, + To other palaces we'll ask them in, + To purer joys of "movies" and of gin. + + But let us still keep open one collection + Of curiosities and quaint antiques, + Under immediate Cabinet direction-- + The finest specimens of talking freaks, + Who constitute our most superb Museum, + Judged by the salaries with which we fee 'em. + O. S. + + * * * * * + +DIPLOMACY. + +"Tell us," said Phyllis laboriously, "about diploma----" and there it +stuck. + +"Tistics," added Lillah in a superior manner. + +Being an uncle, I can never give my brain a rest. It is the easiest +thing in the world to be found out by a child of seven. + +"You mean," I said, "diplomatists?" + +"Yes," said Phyllis in a monotone. "Daddy said they-weren't-any +earthly-blast-them and----" + +"Yes, yes!" I said hastily. I can imagine what George said about +diplomatists. He held a good deal of Balkan stock. + +"Well, are they?" asked Lillah innocently. + +"Diplomatists," I said, "are people in spats and creased trousers, and +the truth is not in them." + +"What is spats?" asked Phyllis. + +"Spats," I answered, "are what people wear when they want to get a job +and their boots are shabby." + +"Are diplomatists shabby?" queried Lillah. + +"Not a bit," I answered rather bitterly. + +"Do they want jobs?" + +"They want to keep them," I said. + +"So they have spats," said Phyllis, completely satisfied. + +"Exactly," I said. "Then they go into an extremely grand room together +and talk." + +"What about?" said Lillah. + +"Oh, anything that turns up," I answered--"the rise in prices or the +late thaw; or if everything fails they simply make personal remarks." + +"Like clergymen," said Phyllis vaguely. + +"Exactly," I said. "And all round the building are secret police +disguised as reporters, and reporters disguised as secret police. And +then each of the diplomatists goes away and writes a white paper, or a +black paper, or a greeny-yellow paper, to show that he was right." + +"And then?" Phyllis gaped with astonishment. + +"Then everybody organises, and centralises, and fraternises, and +defraternises, and, in the end, mobilises." + +Phyllis and Lillah simply stared. + +"Why?" they both gasped. + +"Oh, just to show the diplomatists were wrong," I said airily. + +"And then?" said Lillah breathlessly. + +"The ratepayers pay more." + +"What is a ratepayer?" asked Phyllis. + +"A notorious geek and gull," I said, borrowing from a more distinguished +writer. + +Lillah stared at me with misgiving. + +"But why don't the diplomists say what's true?" she asked. + +"Because," I said, "they'd lose their money and nobody would love them." + +"But," said Phyllis, "Mummie said if we were good everyone would love +us." + +"Your mother was quite right," I answered, with a distinct twinge of +that thin-ice feeling. + +"Well, but you said nobody would love diplomists if they were good," +said Phyllis. + +"So good people aren't loved," added Lillah, "and Mummie said what +wasn't true." + +I fought desperately for a reply. This could not be allowed to pass. It +struck at the roots of nursery constitutionalism. + +"Ah," I said, without any pretence at logic, "but the poor diplomatists +don't know any better." + +"Like the heathen that Mummie tells us about on Sunday?" + +"Between the heathen and a diplomatist," I said, "there is nothing to +choose." + +Phyllis sighed. "I wish I didn't know any better," she said yearningly. +Lillah looked at me dangerously from the corner of her eye. + +"And got money for it," she added. + +"Would you like to play zoo?" I said hastily. + +They were silent. + +"I'll be a bear," I said eagerly--"a polar one." + +No answer. I felt discouraged, but I made another effort. "Or," I said, +"I can be a monkey and you can throw nuts at me, or" --desperately-- "a +ring-tailed lemur, or an orangoutang, or an ant-eater...." My voice +tailed away and there was silence. Then the small voice of Phyllis broke +in. + +"Uncle," she said, "why aren't you a diplomist?" + +At that point Nurse came in and I slid quietly off. As I was going out +of the door I heard the voice of Lillah. + +"Nannie," she said, "tell us about diplomists." + +"You leave diplomatists alone, Miss Lillah," said Nurse; "they won't do +you no harm if you don't talk about them." + +Now why couldn't I have thought of that? It's just training, I suppose. + + * * * * * + +An Impending Apology. + + "Lieut.-Col. ---- is out of the city in the interests of + recruiting." + + _Winnipeg Evening Tribune._ + + * * * * * + + "Nevertheless a strong Bulgarophone and Turkophone feeling prevails + in Greece, especially in military circles." + + _Balkan News_ (_Salonika_). + +"Master's Voice," we presume. + + * * * * * + + "'Theodore Wolff says:--'Other peace orators have followed Lord + Loreburn and Lord Courtney in the House of Lords. One must not + awaken the belief that such prophets can accomplish miracles of + conversation in a day.'"--_Winnipeg Evening Tribune._ + +We think Herr Wolff underestimates Lord Courtney's powers in this +direction. + +[Illustration: ECONOMY IN LUXURIES. + +First Philistine. "I'm All With the Government Over This Closing Of +Museums. I Never Touch 'em Myself." + +Second Philistine. "Same Here. Waiter, Get Me a Couple of Stalls for The +Frivolity."] + +[Illustration: AT OUR PATRIOTIC BAZAAR. + +_Devoted Stall-holder._ "I hardly like to ask you, Mr. Thrush, but the +Committee would be so grateful if you would write one of your sweet +verses on each of these eggs for wounded soldiers!"] + + * * * * * + +JILLINGS. + +I have always been very fond and proud of my niece Celia. With an +exceptionally attractive appearance and a personal fascination that is +irresistible she combines the sweetest and most unselfish nature it has +ever been my good fortune to meet. Indeed, she has so excessive a +consideration for the feelings of everybody but herself that she drifts +into difficulties which she might have avoided by a little more +firmness. As, for example, in the case of Jillings. Celia and Jack have +been married six years; he is about twelve years older than she, and a +capital good fellow, though he is said to have rather a violent temper. +But he has never shown it with Celia--nobody could, had left the Army on +his marriage and settled down in a pretty little place in Surrey, but of +course rejoined the Service as soon as the War broke out. So long as he +was in training with his regiment she took rooms in the neighbourhood, +but when he was ordered to the Front about a year ago she and the +children returned to the Surrey home, and it was then that Celia engaged +Jillings as parlourmaid. I saw her shortly afterwards when I went down +to stay for a night, and was struck by the exuberant enthusiasm with +which she waited--not over efficiently--at table. Celia remarked +afterwards that Jillings was a little inexperienced as yet, but so +willing and warm-hearted, and with such a sensitively affectionate +disposition that the least hint of reproof sufficed to send her into a +flood of tears. + +I had no idea then--nor had Celia--how much inconvenience and +embarrassment can be produced by a warm-hearted parlour-maid. Jillings' +devotion did not express itself in a concrete form until Celia's +birthday, and the form it took was that of an obese and unimaginably +hideous pincushion which mysteriously appeared on her dressing-table. +Old and attached servants are in the habit of presenting their employers +on certain occasions with some appropriate gift, and no one would be +churlish enough to discourage so kindly a practice. But Jillings, it +must be owned, was beginning it a bit early. However, Celia thanked her +as charmingly as though she had been longing all her life for exactly +such a treasure. Still, it was not only unnecessary but distinctly +unwise to add that it should be placed in her wardrobe for safety, as +being much too gorgeous for everyday use. Because all she gained by this +consummate tact was another pincushion, not quite so ornate perhaps, but +even cruder in colour, and this she was compelled to assign a prominent +position among her toilet accessories. + +These successes naturally encouraged Jillings to further efforts. Celia +had the misfortune one day to break a piece of valuable old porcelain +which had stood on her drawing-room mantelpiece, whereupon the faithful +Jillings promptly replaced the loss by a china ornament purchased by +herself. Considered merely as an article of _vertu_ it was about on a +par with the pincushions, but Celia accepted it in the spirit with which +it had been offered. And, warned by experience, she did not lock it up +in the obscurity of a cabinet, nor contrive that some convenient +accident should befall it, wisely preferring "to bear those ills she had +than fly to others," etc. And so it still remains a permanent eyesore on +her mantelshelf. + +Then it seemed that Jillings, who, by the way, was not uncomely, had +established friendly relations with one of the gardeners at the big +house of the neighbourhood--with the result that Celia found her +sitting-rooms replenished at frequent intervals with the most +magnificent specimens of magnolia, tuberose, stephanotis and gardenia. +Unfortunately she happens to be one of those persons whom any strongly +scented flowers afflict with violent headache. But she never mentioned +this for fear of wounding Jillings' susceptibilities. Luckily, Jillings +and the under-gardener fell out in a fortnight. + +As was only to be expected, the other servants, being equally devoted to +their mistress, could not allow Jillings to monopolize the pride and +glory of putting her under an obligation. Very soon a sort of +competition sprang up, each of them endeavouring to out-do the other in +giving Celia what they termed, aptly enough, "little surprises," till +they hit upon the happy solution of clubbing together for the purpose. +Thus Celia, having, out of the kindness of her heart, ordered an +expensive lace hood for the baby from a relation of the nurse's at +Honiton, was dismayed to discover, when the hood arrived, that it was +already paid for and was a joint gift from the domestics. After that she +felt, being Celia, that it would be too ungracious to insist on +refunding the money. + +It was not until I was staying with her last Spring that I heard of all +these excesses. But at breakfast on Easter Sunday not only did Celia, +Tony and the baby each receive an enormous satin egg filled with +chocolates, but I was myself the recipient of one of these seasonable +tokens, being informed by the beaming Jillings that "we didn't want +_you_, Sir, to feel you'd been forgotten." By lunch-time it became clear +that she had succeeded in animating at least one of the local tradesmen +with this spirit of reckless liberality. For when Celia made a mild +inquiry concerning a sweetbread which she had no recollection of having +ordered Jillings explained, with what I fear I must describe as a +self-conscious smirk, that it was "a little Easter orfering from the +butcher, Madam." I am bound to say that even Celia was less scrupulous +about hurting the butcher's feelings--no doubt from an impression that +his occupation must have cured him of any over-sensitiveness. + +As soon as we were alone she told me all she had been enduring, which it +seemed she had been careful not to mention in her letters to Jack. "I +simply can't tell you, Uncle," she concluded pathetically, "how wearing +it is to be constantly thanking somebody for something I'd ever so much +rather be without. And yet--what else can I do?" + +I suggested that she might strictly forbid all future indulgence in +these orgies of generosity, and she supposed meekly that she should +really have to do something of that sort, though we both knew how +extremely improbable it was that she ever would. + +This morning I had a letter from her. Jack had got leave at last and she +was expecting him home that very afternoon, so I must come down and see +him before his six days expired. "I wish now," she went on, "that I had +taken your advice, but it was so difficult somehow. Because ever since I +told Jillings and the others about Jack's coming home they have been +going about smiling so importantly that I'm horribly afraid they're +planning some dreadful surprise, and I daren't ask them what. Now I must +break off, as I must get ready to go to the station with Tony and meet +dear Jack...." + +Then followed a frantic postscript. "I know _now_! They've dressed poor +Tony up in a little khaki uniform that doesn't even fit him! And, what's +worse, they've put up a perfectly terrible triumphal arch over the front +gate, with 'Hail to our Hero' on it in immense letters. They all seem so +pleased with themselves--and anyway there's no time to alter anything +now. But I don't know what Jack will say." + +I don't either, but I could give a pretty good guess. I shall see him +and Celia to-morrow. But I shall be rather surprised if I see Jillings. + + F. A. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Old Lady_ (_quite carried away_). "How nice it is to +have the ticket proffered, as it were, instead of thrust upon one!"] + + * * * * * + +THE WELL-DISPOSED ONES. + +(_With acknowledgments to the back page of "The Referee."_) + +Bertram Brazenthwaite, Basso-Profondo (varicose veins and flat feet), +respectfully informs his extensive _clientele_ that he has a few vacant +dates at the end of 1917. Comings-of-Age, Jumble Sales and Fabian +Society Soirees a specialite. + + Sir Sawyer Hackett, M. D., writes: "The physical defects which + prevent Mr. Brazenthwaite from joining the colours have left his + vocal gifts and general gaiety unimpaired." + + * * * * * + +Do you want your Christening to be a _succes fou_? Then send for Hubert +the Homunculus, London's Premier Baby-Entertainer (astigmatism, and +conscientious objections). + + "Hubert the Homunculus would make a kitten laugh."--Hilary Joye, in + _The Encore_. + +High-art pamphlet from "The Lebanons," New North Road, N. + + * * * * * + +Jolly Jenkin, Patriotic Prestidigitator (Group 98). Nominal terms to the +Army, Navy and Civic Guard. Address till end of week, The Parthenon, +Puddlecombe. Next, Reigate Rotunda. + + _The Epoch_ says: "Jolly Jenkin has the Evil Eye. In the Middle + Ages he would have been burnt.". + + * * * * * + + "Men who are physically fit can be released from clerical duties + and replaced by hen only fit for sedentary occupations."--_Daily + Paper._ + +Broody, in fact. + + * * * * * + +HOW I DINED WITH THE PRESIDENT. + +The Truth about Wilson. +[SPECIAL TO _PUNCH_.] + +On Saturday, January 22nd, I arrived in Washington from Seattle. The +Seattle part is another story. + +What I have to tell to-day, here, now, and once for all, is what I saw +of the President at close quarters outside and inside the White House +and what happened at the historic dinner-party, at which I was the only +representative of a belligerent country present. + +By a fortunate coincidence Mr. Wilson arrived at the railway depot on +his return from a game of golf with his secretary, Mr. Tumulty, as I was +loitering at the bookstall. I had never seen either of them before, but +intuitively recognised them in a flash. Mr. Tumulty looked exactly as a +man with so momentous a name could only look. The President was garbed +in a neutral-tinted lounge-suit and wore a dark fawn overcoat and +dove-coloured spats. + +How did the President look? Well, his face was obviously the face of a +changed man. Not that he is changed for the worse. He seemed in the pink +of condition, and his clean-cut profile and firm jaw radiated inflexible +determination at every pore. No signs of a moustache are yet visible on +his finely-chiselled upper lip. + +I had no introduction, and no time was to be lost, so without a moment's +hesitation I strode up to the President and said, "Permit me, Sir, as +the accredited representative of a neutral nation, to offer you this +token of respect," and handed him a small Dutch cheese, a dainty to +which I had been informed he was especially partial. The President +smiled graciously, handed the offering to his secretary, and said, "I +thank you, Sir. Won't you join us at the White House at dinner +to-night?" I expressed my acceptance in suitable terms, bowed and passed +on. + +The dinner took place in the famous octagonal dining-room of the White +House, which was profusely decorated with the flags of the Scandinavian +Kingdoms, Spain, Greece, China, Chile, Peru, Brazil and the Argentine. + +The band of the Washington Post Office Rifles was ensconced behind a +trellis of olive branches and discoursed a choice selection of soothing +music. Flagons of grape-juice and various light and phosphorescent +beverages stood on the sideboard. It was a memorable scene and every +detail was indelibly impressed on my mind. The President greeted his +guests with the calm dignity proper to his high office. He does not +affect the high handshake of English smart society, but a firm yet +gentle clasp. In repose his features reminded me of Julius Caesar, but +when he smiles he recalls the more genial lineaments of the great +Pompey. The general impression created on my mind was one of refined +simplicity. As the President himself remarked, quoting Thucydides to one +of his Greek guests, [Greek: philukalonmen meht ehuteleias]. + +It is quite untrue that the conversation was confined to the English +tongue. On the contrary all the neutral languages, except Chinese, were +spoken, the President showing an equal facility in every one, and +honourably making a point of never uttering two consecutive sentences in +the same tongue. War topics were rigorously eschewed, and so far as I +could follow the conversation--I only speak five of the neutral +languages--the subjects ranged from golf to hygienic clothing, from +co-education to coon-can. + +I do not propose here and now to state the circumstances in which, on +leaving the White House, I was kidnapped by some emissaries of Count +Bernstorff, and ultimately consigned to the Tombs in New York on a false +charge of manslaughter; how I narrowly escaped being electrocuted, and +was subsequently deported to Bermuda as an undesirable alien. What I saw +and endured in the Tombs is another story. What really matters is the +Bill of Fare of the President's dinner, which was printed in Esperanto +and ran as follows:-- + + Turtle Dove Soup. + Norwegian Salmon Cutlets. + Iceland Reindeer Steak. + Tipperusalein Artichokes and Spanish Onions. + Chaudfroid a la Woodrow. + Irene Pudding. + Dutch Cheese Straws. + Brazil Nuts. + +After dinner Greek cigarettes were handed round with small cups of China +tea and, as an alternative, Peruvian _mate._ + + * * * * * + +THE INVASION. + +I thought--being very old indeed, "older," as a poem by Mr. Sturge Moore +begins, "than most sheep"--I thought, being so exceedingly mature and +disillusioned, that I knew all the worries of life. Yet I did not; there +was still one that was waiting for me round the corner, but I know that +too, now. + +I will tell you about it. + +To begin with, let me describe myself. I am an ordinary quiet-living +obscure person, neither exalted nor lowly, who, having tired of town, +took a little place in the country and there settled down to a life of +placidity, varied by such inroads upon ease as all back-to-the-landers +know: now a raid on the chickens by a fox, whose humour it is not to +devour but merely to decapitate; now the disappearance of the gardener +at Lord Derby's coat-tails; now a flood; and now and continually a +desire on the part of the cook to give a month's notice, if you please, +and the consequent resumption of correspondence with the registry +office. There you have the main lines of the existence not only of +myself, but of thousands of other English rural recluses. But for such +little difficulties I have been happy--a Cincinnatus ungrumbling. + +The new fly entered the ointment about three weeks ago, when a parcel +was brought to me by a footman from the Priory, some three miles away, +with a message to the effect that it had been delivered there and opened +in error. They were of course very sorry. + +I asked how the mistake had occurred. + +"Same name," he said. "The house has just been let furnished to some +people of the same name as yourself." + +Now I have always rather prided myself on the rarity of my name. I don't +go so far as to claim that it came over with the Conqueror, but it is an +old name and an uncommon one, and hitherto I had been the only owner of +it in the district. To have it duplicated was annoying. + +Worse however was to come. + +I do not expect to be believed, but it is a solemn fact that within a +fortnight two more bearers of my name moved into the village. One was a +cowman, and the other a maiden lady, so that at the present moment there +are four of us all opening or rejecting each other's letters. The thing +is absurd. One might as well be named Smith right away. + +I don't mind the cowman, but the maiden lady is a large order. I have, +as I say, lived in this place for some time--at least six years--and she +moved into The Laurels only ten days ago, but when she came round this +morning with an opened telegram that was not meant for her, she had the +maiden--ladylikehood to remark how awkward it was when other people had +the same name as herself. "There should," she said, "never be more than +one holder of a name in a small place." + +I had no retort beyond the obvious one that I got there first; but I +hope that the cowman henceforth gets all her correspondence and delays +it. He is welcome to mine so long as he deals faithfully with hers. + + * * * * * + + "Balakn Centre has shifted." _Toronto Mail_. + +So we observe. + + +MR. PUNCH'S POTTED FILMS. THE WILD WEST DRAMA. + +THE ROSEBUD OF GINGER'S GULCH. + +[Illustration: The Green-Eyed Monster.] + +[Illustration: On the Trail.] + +[Illustration: "He has left his pocket-handkerchief, and he has a cold +in the head. I must take it to him."] + +[Illustration: "You have five seconds more to live."] + +[Illustration: In the nick of time.] + +[Illustration: "Darling!"] + +[Illustration: THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING YOUNG. + +Office-Boy engaging a suitable Employer.] + + * * * * * + +NEWS FROM KIEL. + +(_By our Naval Expert._) + +An interesting little item of news in the daily papers of last Wednesday +may have escaped notice. It appears that the German Liners which have +been laid up in New York harbour for the last eighteen months have +discovered that their magnetic deviation has been affected. This is the +explanation of the recent movement in the harbour, when all the German +ships were turned round so as to readjust their compasses. + +The special significance of this information is to be found by taking it +in conjunction with the recent puzzling reports of movements of the +German High Seas Fleet. It will be remembered that the Fleet was +represented in an enemy official report (with the customary +exaggeration) as sweeping out into the North Sea. That was not readily +believed, but it was generally felt that there must be something in it, +especially as all manner of rumours of naval activity kept coming +through from Scandinavia about the same time. + +Our naval experts in this country were quite at a loss, but to-day the +riddle is solved. What was happening was that the High Seas Fleet was +_turning round_. + +I have had the good fortune to fall in with a neutral traveller--of the +usual high standing and impartial sympathies--who has supplied a few +details. It seems that great excitement prevailed at this scene of +unwonted bustle and activity. The operation was carried out under +favourable weather conditions practically without a hitch, the +casualties being quite negligible, and the _moral_ of the men, in spite +of their long period of enforced coma, being absolutely unshaken. One +and all have now cheerfully accepted the disconcerting changes involved +in the new orientation, and window-boxes have been generally shifted to +the sunny side. + + * * * * * + + "On Monday, near Durgerdam, in Holland, a fresh dyke burst occurred + on a length of 50 metres. Over 200 handbags were at once thrown + into the opening without any visible result."--_Provincial Paper._ + +Still, the sacrifice was well meant. + + * * * * * + +THE GOLDEN VALLEY. + +(Herefordshire.) + + Abbeydore, Abbeydore, + Land of apples and of gold, + Where the lavish field-gods pour + Song and cider manifold; + Gilded land of wheat and rye, + Land where laden branches cry, + "Apples for the young and old + Ripe at Abbeydore!" + + Abbeydore, Abbeydore, + Where the shallow river spins + Elfin spells for evermore, + Where the mellow kilderkins + Hoard the winking apple-juice + For the laughing reapers' use; + All the joy of life begins + There at Abbeydore. + + Abbeydore, Abbeydore, + In whose lap of wonder teems + Largess from a wizard store, + World of idle, crooning streams-- + From a stricken land of pain + May I win to you again, + Garden of the God of Dreams, + Golden Abbeydore. + +[Illustration: A GERMAN HOLIDAY. + +Child. "PLEASE, SIR, WHAT IS THIS HOLIDAY FOR?" + +Official. "BECAUSE OUR ZEPPELINS HAVE CONQUERED ENGLAND." + +Child. "HAVE THEY BROUGHT US BACK ANY BREAD?" + +Official. "DON'T ASK SILLY QUESTIONS. WAVE YOUR FLAG."] + + * * * * * + +AT THE FRONT. + +There is one matter I have hitherto not touched on, because it has not +hitherto touched on me, and that is Courses. + +The ideal course works like this. You are sitting up to the ears in mud +under a brisk howitzer, trench mortar and rifle grenade fire, when a +respectful signaller crawls round a traverse, remarking, "Message, Sir." + +You take the chit from him languidly, wondering whether you have earned +a court-martial by omitting to report on the trench sleeping-suits which +someone in the Rearward Services has omitted to forward, and you read, +still languidly at first; then you get up and whoop, throw your primus +stove into the air and proceed to dance on the parapet, if your trench +has one. Then you settle down and read your message again to see if it +still runs, "You are detailed to attend three months' Staff work course +at Boulogne, commencing to-morrow. A car will be at the dump for you +to-night. A month's leave on completion, of course." + +But all courses are not like this; all you can say is that some are less +unlike it than others. I was sitting in a warm billet about twelve noon +having breakfast on the first day out of trenches when the blow fell on +me. I was to report about two days ago at a School of Instruction some +two hundred yards away. I gathered that the course had started without +me. I set some leisurely inquiries in train, in the hope that it might +be over before I joined up. I also asked the Adjutant whether I couldn't +have it put off till next time in trenches, or have it debited to me as +half a machine-gun course payable on demand, or exchange it for a +guinea-pig or a canary, or do anything consistent with the honour of an +officer to stave it off. For to tell the truth, like all people who know +nothing and have known it for a long time, I cherish a deeply-rooted +objection to being instructed. + +Unfortunately the Adjutant is one of those weak fellows who always tell +you that they are mere machines in the grip of the powers that change +great nations. So on the third day I bought a nice new slate and satchel +and joined up. + +Even now, after some days of intense instruction, I find my condition is +a little confused and foggy. Of course it covers practically the whole +field of military interests, and I ought to be able to win the War in +about three-quarters of an hour, given a reasonable modicum of men, +guns, indents, physical training and bayonet exercise, knowledge of +military law, and acquaintance with the approved methods of conducting a +casualty clearing station, a mechanical transport column, and a field +kitchen. The confusion of mind evident in this last sentence is a high +testimonial to the comprehensive nature of our course. + +Physical training made the strongest appeal to me. I remember some of +the best words, not perhaps as they are, but as I caught them from an +almost over-glib expert. Did you know you had a strabismal vertebra? or, +given a strabismal vertebra, that it could be developed to almost any +extent by simply 'eaving from the 'ips? Take my tip and try it next time +you're under shell-fire. + +To-morrow we break up, and I join the army. The army has gone away +somewhere while I wasn't looking, and I shall have to make inquiries +about it. You never can tell what these things will do when not kept +under the strictest observation. My bit _may_ have gone to Egypt or +Nyassaland or Nagri Sembilan. But I have a depressing feeling that A 27 +_x y z_ iv. 9.8 will be nearer the mark, and that I shall find it +meandering nightly to Bk 171 in large droves, there to insert more and +more humps of soggy Belgium into more and more sandbags. I don't want to +make myself unpleasant to the War Office, but I really can't see why we +haven't once and for all built trenches all done up in eight-inch thick +steel plates. They could easily be brought up ready-made, and simply +sunk into position. + +They would sink all right; you'd just have to put them down anywhere and +look the other way for a minute. The difficulty would be to stop the +lift before it got to the basement--if there is a basement in Flanders. + +There is a tragedy to report. We were adopted recently by a magpie. He +was a gentle creature of impulsive habits and strong woodpecking +instincts. Arsene we called him. For some days he gladdened us with his +soft bright eye. But when we came to know him well and I relied on him +to break the shells of my eggs every morning at breakfast, to steal my +pens and spill my ink, to wake me by a gentle nip on the nose from his +firm but courteous beak, a rough grenadier came one day to explain a new +type of infernal machine, and, when we went out, left a detonator on the +table. + +I never saw what actually followed, but we buried Arsene with full +military honours. + + * * * * * + + "Ladies' Self-trimmed Velvet Hate for One + Shilling."--_North-Country Paper._ + +The latest fashion in Berlin. + + * * * * * + +MORE LIGHT FROM OUR LEADERS. + +By way of a supplement to the Candle-shade epigrams recently contributed +by various distinguished men and women of light and leading, we have +been fortunate to secure the following sentiments for St. Valentine's +Day from several luminaries who were conspicuously absent from the list. + +Mr. Harry Lauder, the illustrious comedian, poetizes as follows:-- + + "Let those wha wull compile the nation's annals, And guide oor + thochts in strict historic channels; Ma Muse prefers, far fra these + dull morasses, To laud the purrrple heather and the lassies." + +Mr. Stevenson, the incomparable cueist, sends this pithy distich:-- + + "Big guns are useful in their way, 'tis true, But nursery cannons + have their uses too." + +Miss Carrie Tubb, the famous soprano, writes:-- + + "Butt me no butts. Though carping critics flout us, What would + Diogenes have done without us?" + +A distinguished actor gives as his favourite quotation the couplet from +Goldsmith:-- + + "A man he was financially unique, And passing poor on forty pounds + a week." + +Mr. Bernard Shaw contributes this characteristic definition of genius:-- + + "Genius consists in an infinite capacity for giving pain." + +The Air Candidate for Mile End sends the following witty and topical +epigram:-- + + "Mid war's alarms there is no time for cooing, But Billing may + prevent our land's undoing." + + * * * * * + + "We are all familiar with the poetic words: 'There's many a gem + that's born to blush unseen, and waste its fragrance on the desert + air.'"--_Kilmarnock Herald._ + +Our own ignorance of this gem makes us blush (unseen, we hope). + + * * * * * + + "How To Keep Warm.--In Great Britain I think a shirt, vest and coat + enough covering for the ordinary man. I wear no more." + + _Reynolds Newspaper._ + +No one who follows this advice need fear a chill. The police are sure to +make it warm for him. + + * * * * * + + "When Sir Stanley (now Lord) Buckmaster succeeded Mr. (now Sir) F. + E. Smith in the chief responsibility for the Bureau he made a point + of betting on friendly terms with the representatives of the Fourth + Estate." + + _Bristol Times and Mirror._ + +Several of them, it is well known, have been charged with book-making. + + * * * * * + + "Lady (Young) seeks Sit. in shop; butcher's preferred; would like + to learn scales." + + _Morning Paper._ + +Why not try a piano-monger's? + +[Illustration: _She._ "And are you only just back from the trenches? How +interesting! You will be able to tell us the real truth about the +Kaiser's illness."] + + * * * * * + +A DUEL OF ENDURANCE. + +Our butcher's name is Bones. Yes, I know it sounds too good to be true. +But I can't help it. Once more, his name is Bones. + +There is something wrong with Bones. Mark him as he stands there among +all those bodies of sheep and oxen, feeling with his thumb the edge of +that long sharp knife and gazing wistfully across the way to where the +greengrocer's baby lies asleep in its perambulator on the pavement. +Observe him start with a sigh from his reverie as you enter his shop. +What is the matter with him? Why should a butcher sigh? + +I will tell you. He has been thinking about the Kaiser, the Kaiser who +is breaking his heart through the medium of the greengrocer's baby. + +As all the world knows, between the ages of one and two the best British +babies are built up on beef tea and mutton broth; at two or thereabouts +they start on small chops. No one can say when the custom arose. Like so +many of those unwritten laws on which the greatness of England is really +based it has outgrown the memory of its origin. But its force is as +universally binding to-day as it was in Plantagenet times. Thus, though +numerous households since the War began have temporarily adopted a +vegetarian diet, in the majority of cases a line has been drawn at the +baby. That is why butchers at present look on babies as their +sheet-anchors. It is through them that they keep the toe of their boot +inside the family door. The little things they send for them serve as a +memento of the old Sunday sirloin, a reminder that while nuts may +nourish niggers the Briton's true prerogative is beef. + +The greengrocer has given up meat. But he has done more than this. He +has done what not even a greengrocer should do. He has broken the +tradition of the ages. He is feeding his baby on bananas. + +At first the greengrocer's baby did not like bananas and its cries were +awful. But after a while it got used to them, and now even when it goes +to bed it clutches one in its tiny hand. It is not so rosy as it was, +but the greengrocer says red-faced babies are apoplectic and that the +reason it twitches so much in its sleep is because it is so full of +vitality. He is advising all his customers to feed their babies on +bananas. Bones does not care much what happens to the greengrocer's +baby, but he says if it lasts much longer he will have to put his +shutters up. He is growing very despondent, and I noticed the other day +that he had given up chewing suet--a bad sign in a butcher. + +It is a duel of endurance between Bones and the greengrocer's baby. I +wonder which will win. + + * * * * * + + "Mr. Buxton was severely heckled at the outset from all parts of + the room. Each time he endeavoured to speak he was hailed with a + torrent of howls, hoots and kisses." + + _Provincial Paper_. + +A notoriously effective way of stopping the mouth. + + * * * * * + +From the Lady's column in _The Cur_:-- + + "Now about this word 'damn.' Of course you all think it is a good + old Saxon word! Well, prepare for a surprise. It is derived from + the Latin damnere." + +Well, we are--surprised. + + * * * * * + +Motto for the next Turkish Revolution: _Enver Renverse_. + +[Illustration: _Householder._ "But, hang it all, I can't see why that +bomb next door should make you want to _raise_ my rent!" + +_Landlord._ "Don't you perceive, my dear Sir, that your house is now +semi-detached?"] + + * * * * * + +TONNAGE. + +"Oh, dear," said Francesca, "everything keeps going up." She was engaged +upon the weekly books and spoke in a tone of heartfelt despair. + +"Well," I said, "you've known all along how it would be. Everybody's +told you so." + +"Everybody? Who's everybody in this case?" + +"I told you so for one, and Mr. Asquith mentioned it several times, and +so did Mr. McKenna." + +"I have never," she said proudly, "discussed my weekly books with +Messrs. Asquith and McKenna. I should scorn the action." + +"That's all very well," I said. "Keep them away as far as you can, but +they'll still get hold of you. The Chancellor of the Exchequer knows +your weekly books by heart." + +"I wish," she said, "he'd add them up for me. He's a good adder-up, I +suppose, or he wouldn't be what he is." + +"He's fair to middling, I fancy--something like me." + +"_You!_" she said, in a tone of ineffable contempt. "You're no good at +addition." + +"Francesca," I said, "you wrong me. I'm a great deal of good. Of course +I don't pretend to be able to run three fingers up three columns of +figures a yard long and to write down the result as L7,956 17_s._ 8_d_., +or whatever it may be, without a moment's pause. I can't do that, but +for the ordinary rough-and-tumble work of domestic addition I'm hard to +beat. Only if I'm to do these books of yours there must be perfect +silence in the room. I mustn't be talked to while I'm wrestling with the +nineteens and the seventeens in the shilling column." + +"In fact," said Francesca, "you ought to be a deaf adder." + +"Francesca," I said, "how could you? Give me the butcher's book and let +there be no more _jeux de mots_ between us." + +I took the book, which was a masterpiece of illegibility, and added it +up with my usual grace and felicity. + +"Francesca," I said as I finished my task, "my total differs from the +butcher's, but the difference is in his favour, not in mine. He seems to +have imparted variety to his calculations by considering that it took +twenty pence to make a shilling, which is a generous error. Now let me +deal with the baker while you tackle the grocer, and then we'll wind up +by doing the washing-book together." + +The washing-book was a teaser, the items being apparently entered in +Chaldee, but we stumbled through it at last. + +"And now," I said, "we can take up the subject of thrift." + +"I don't want to talk about it," she said, "I'm thoroughly tired of it. +We've talked too much about it already." + +"You're wrong there; we haven't talked half enough. If we had, the books +wouldn't have gone up." + +"They haven't gone up," she said. "They're about the same, but we've +been having less." + +"Noble creature," I said, "do you mean to say that you've docked me of +one of my Sunday sausages and the whole of my Thursday roly-poly pudding +and never said a word about it?" + +"Well, you didn't seem to notice it, so I left it alone." + +"Ah, but I did notice it," I said, "but I determined to suffer in +silence in order to set an example to the children." + +"That was bravely done," she said. "It encourages me to cut down the +Saturday sirloin." + +"But what will the servants say? They won't like it." + +"They'll have to lump it then." + +"But I thought servants never lumped it. I thought they always insisted +on their elevenses and all their other food privileges." + +"Anyhow," she said, "I'm going to make a push for economy and the +servants must push with me. They won't starve, whatever happens." + +"No, and if they begin to object you can talk to them about tonnage." + +"That ought to bowl them over. But hadn't I better know what it means +before I mention it?" + +"Yes, that might be an advantage." + +"You see," she said, "Mrs. Mincer devotes to the reading of newspapers +all the time she can spare from the cooking of meals and she'd be sure +to trip me up if I ventured to say anything about tonnage." + +"Learn then," I said, "that tonnage means the amount of space reserved +for cargoes on ships--at least I suppose that's what it means, and----" + +"You don't seem very sure about it. Hadn't you better look it up?" + +"No," I said. "That's good enough for Mrs. Mincer. Now if there's an +insufficiency of tonnage----" + +"But why should there be an insufficiency of tonnage?" + +"Because," I said, "the Government have taken up so much tonnage for the +purposes of the War. How did you think the Army got supplied with food +and shells and guns and men? Did you think they flew over to France and +Egypt and Salonica?" + +"Don't be rude," she said. "I didn't introduce this question of tonnage. +You did. And even now I don't see what tonnage has got to do with our +sirloin of beef." + +"I will," I said kindly, "explain it to you all over again. We have +ample tonnage for necessaries, but not for luxuries." + +"But my sirloin of beef isn't a luxury." + +"For the purpose of my argument," I said, "it is a luxury and must be +treated as such." + +"Do you know," she said, "I don't think I'll bother about tonnage. I'll +tackle Mrs. Mincer in my own way." + +"You're throwing away a great opportunity," I said. + +"Never mind," she said. "If I feel I'm being beaten I'll call you in. +Your power of lucid explanation will pull me through." + + R. C. L. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Elder to Beadle._ "Well, John, how did you like the +strange minister?" + +_Beadle._ "No Ava, Elder--he's an awfu' frichtened kin' a chap yon. Did +ye notice how he aye talked aboot 'oor adversary, Satan'? Oor own +meenister just ca's him plain 'deevil'--he doesna care a dom for him."] + + * * * * * + +CANADIAN REMOUNTS. + + Bronco dams they ran by on the ranges of the prairies, + Heard the chicken drumming in the scented saskatoon, + Saw the jewel humming-birds, the flocks of pale canaries, + Heard the coyotes dirging to the ruddy Northern moon; + Woolly foals, leggy foals, foals that romped and wrestled, + Rolled in beds of golden-rod and charged to mimic fights, + Saw the frosty Bear wink out and comfortably nestled + Close beside their vixen dams beneath the wizard Lights. + + Far from home and overseas, older now--and wiser, + Branded with the arrow brand, broke to trace and bit, + Tugging up the grey guns "to strafe the blooming Kaiser," + Up the hill to Kemmel, where the Mauser bullets spit; + Stiffened with the cold rains, mired and tired and gory, + Plunging through the mud-holes as the batteries advance, + Far from home and overseas--but battling on to glory + With the English eighteen-pounders and the soixante-quinzes of France! + + * * * * * + +AT THE PLAY. + +"Mrs. Pretty and the Premier." + +I am not sure that I didn't find Mr. Bourchier's "Foreword" or Apologia +(kindly given away with the programme) rather more entertaining than the +play itself. As long as the dramatist (a New Zealander) concerned +himself with the delightfully unconventional atmosphere of Antipodean +politics he was illuminating and very possibly veracious. But the +relations between the _Premier_ and the widow _Pretty_, which promised, +as the title hinted, to be the main attraction, were such as never could +have occurred on land or sea. It was impossible, with this farcical +element always obtruding itself, to take the political features of the +play seriously, as I gather that we were intended to do; and we got very +little help from Mr. Bourchier's own performance, which was frankly +humorous. In his brochure he tells us with great solemnity that he is +"more than pleased to think that the play may help to demonstrate to +those of an older civilisation how truly the best of the so-called +Labour politicians strive to serve their country and their fellow +men.... Premier 'Bill' demonstrates vividly enough that, heart and soul, +the Australian politician devotes himself to the uplifting of the great +Commonwealth." Mr. Bourchier's tongue may or may not have been in his +cheek when he penned these lofty sentiments, but anyhow it seemed to be +there during most of the play. + +He is on safer ground when he tells us that "in curiously vivid and +pungent fashion this little play outlines the breezy freshness and the +originality of outlook which almost invariably characterise the +politicians and statesmen of the Prairie, the Veldt and the Bush, and +which more than anything else perhaps differentiates them from the men +of an older land, hampered as these latter often are by long and stately +traditions." Certainly, in the matter of addressing its Premier by a +familiar abbreviation of his Christian name (an authority who has +travelled in these parts assures Mr. Bourchier that he is "quite right:" +that "people would call this Premier 'Bill' in Australia") the new world +differs from the old. I cannot so much as contemplate the thought of Mr. +Asquith being addressed by the Minister Of Munitions as "Herb," or even +"Bert." + +[Illustration: FIRST LOVE; OR THE JEUNE PREMIER. + +_Bill the Premier_ Mr. Arthur Bourchier. + +_Mrs. Pretty_ Miss Kyrle Bellew.] + +But we have difficulties again with the Foreword (for I cannot get away +from it) when we come to the question of the hero's virility. In the +play his secretary says of him, "Bill's not a man, he's a Premier. A +kind of dynamo running the country at top speed." Yet the Foreword, +after citing this passage, goes on to insist upon his "tingling +humanity" and hinting at the need of such a type of manhood at the +present time. "After all," concludes Mr. Bourchier in a spasm of +uplift--"after all, what is the cry of the moment here in the heart of +the Empire, but for 'a Man-Give us a Man!'" But even if we reject the +secretary's estimate of his chief as a dynamo we still find a certain +deficiency of manhood in the anaemic indifference of the _Premier's_ +attitude to women; an attitude, by the way, not commonly associated with +Mr. Bourchier's impersonations on the stage. _Mrs. Pretty's_ tastes are, +of course, her own affair, and we were allowed little insight into her +heart (if any), but I can only conclude that her choice was governed by +political rather than emotional considerations ("Let us remember Women +Have the Vote In Australia" is the finale of the Foreword) and that what +she wanted was a Premier rather than a Man. + +Of the play itself one may at least say that it kept fairly off the +beaten track. There was novelty in its local colour, its unfamiliar +types and the episode, adroitly managed, of a pair of gloves employed to +muffle the division bell at the moment of a crisis on which the fate of +the Government depended. But the design was too small to fill the stage +of His Majesty's and it left me a little disappointed. I was content so +long as Mr. Bourchier was in sight, but the part of _Mrs. Pretty_ needed +something more than the rather conscious graces and airy drapery of Miss +Kyrle Bellew. The rest of the performance was sound but not very +exhilarating; and altogether, though I hope I am properly grateful for +any help towards the realisation of "Colonial conditions," I cannot +honestly say that _Mrs. Pretty_ and the _Premier_ has done very much for +me (as Mr. Bourchier hoped it would) by way of supplementing the thrill +of Anzac. O. S. + + * * * * * + + A NAVAL REVELATION. + + Edward Brown's official sheet, + Humble though his station, + Showed a record which the Fleet + Viewed with admiration. + + Fifteen stainless summers bore + Fruit in serried cluster; + Conduct stripes he proudly wore, + One for every lustre. + + Picture then the blank amaze + When this model rating + Suddenly developed traits + Most incriminating. + + Faults in baser spirits deemed + Merely peccadillos + In that crystal mirror seemed + Vast as Biscay billows. + + Cautioned not to over-run + Naval toleration, + He replied in language un- + Fit for publication. + + When the captain in alarm + Strove to solve the riddle, + Edward slipped a dreamy arm + Round that awful middle. + + Such a catastrophic change + Set his shipmates thinking; + Rumour whispered, "It is strange; + Clearly he is drinking." + + Ever more insistent got + This malicious fable, + Till he tied a true-love's knot + In the anchor cable. + + * * * * * + + "During December, 1661, meals for necessitous school children were + provided at Chorley at a cost of 4d. per meal per scholar." + +_Provincial Paper._ + +In gratitude for the Restoration, we suppose. Hence the watchword, "Good +old Chorley!" + + * * * * * + + "Summoned for permitting three houses to stray on Stoke Park on the + 19th inst ... defendant admitted the offence, but said that some + one must have let them out by taking the chain off the + gate."--_Provincial Paper_. + +It seems a reasonable explanation. + +[Illustration: _Officer_ (_to Tommy, who has been using the whip +freely_). "Don't beat him; talk to him, man--talk to him!" + +_Tommy_ (_to horse, by way of opening the conversation_). "I coom from +Manchester."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +The latest of our writers to contribute to the growing literature of the +War is Mr. Hugh Walpole. He has written a book about it called _The Dark +Forest_ (Secker), but whether it is a good or a bad book I who have read +it carefully from cover to cover confess my inability to decide. It is +certainly a clever book, and violently unusual. I doubt whether the War +is likely to produce anything else in the least resembling it. For one +thing, it deals with a phase of the struggle, the Russian retreat +through Galicia, about which we in England are still tragically +ignorant. Mr. Walpole writes of this as he himself has seen it in his +own experience as a worker with the Russian Red Cross. The horrors, the +compensations, the tragedy and happiness of such work have come straight +into the book from life. But not content with this, he has peopled his +mission with fictitious characters and made a story about them. And good +as the story is, full of fine imagination and character, the background +is so tremendously more real that I was constantly having to resist a +feeling of impatience with the false creations (in _Macbeth's_ sense) +who play out their unsubstantial drama before it. Yet I am far from +denying the beauty of Mr. Walpole's idea. The characters of _Trenchard_, +the self-doubting young Englishman, who finds reality in his love for +the nurse _Marie Ivanovna_, and of the Russian doctor, _Semyonov_, who +takes her from him, are exquisitely realized. And the atmosphere of +increasing mental strain, in which, after _Marie's_ death, the tragedy +of these three moves to its climax in the forest is the work of an +artist in emotion, such as by this time we know Mr. Walpole to be. The +trouble was that I had at the moment no wish for artistry. To sum up, I +am left with the impression that an uncommonly good short story rather +tiresomely distracted my attention from some magnificent war-pictures. + + * * * * * + +As Field-Marshal Sir Evelyn Wood, V. C., in _Our Fighting Services_ +(Cassell), begins with the Battle of Hastings and ends with the Boer War +there is no gainsaying the fact that his net has been widely spread. To +assist him in the compilation of this immense tome the author has a +fluent style and--to judge from the authorities consulted and the +results of these consultations--an inexhaustible industry. The one +should make his book acceptable to the amateur who reads history because +he happens to love it, and the other should make it invaluable to +professionals who handle books of reference, not lovingly, but of +necessity. And having said so much in praise of Sir Evelyn I am also +happy to add that he is, on the whole, that rare thing--an historian +without prejudices. Almost desperately, for instance, he tries to +express his admiration of Oliver Cromwell as a soldier, although he +quite obviously detests him as a man. I find myself, however, wondering +whether Sir Evelyn, were he writing of Cromwell at this hour, would say, +"For a man over forty years of age to work hard to acquire the rudiments +of drill is in itself remarkable." Even when allowance is made for the +differences between the seventeenth and twentieth centuries there would +seem to be nothing very worthy of remark in such energy if one may judge +from the attitude of our War Office to the Volunteers. Naturally one +turns eagerly to see what this distinguished soldier has to say about +campaigns in which he took a personal part, but, although shrewd +criticism is not lacking, Sir Evelyn's sword has been more destructive +than his pen. In these days of tremendous events this volume may +possibly be slow to come to its own, but in due course it is bound to +arrive. + + * * * * * + +I find, on referring to the "By the same Author" page of _The Lad With +Wings_ (Hutchinson), that other reviewers of "Berta Buck's" novels have +been struck by the "charm" of her work. I should like to be original, +but I cannot think of any better way of summing up the quality of her +writing. Charm above everything else is what _The Lad With Wings_ +possesses. It is a perfectly delightful book, moving at racing speed +from the first chapter to the last, and so skilfully written that even +the technically unhappy ending brings no gloom. When _Gwenna Williams_ +and _Paul Dampier_, the young airman she has married only a few hours +before the breaking out of war, go down to death together in mid-Channel +after the battle with the German Taube, the reader feels with _Leslie +Long, Gwenna's_ friend, "The best time to go out! No growing old and +growing dull.... No growing out of love with each other, ever! They at +least have had something that nothing can spoil." I suppose that when +Mrs. Oliver Onions is interviewed as to her literary methods it will +turn out that she re-writes everything a dozen times and considers +fifteen hundred words a good day's work; but she manages in _The Lad +With Wings_ to convey an impression of having written the whole story at +a sitting. The pace never flags for a moment, and the characters are +drawn with that apparently effortless skill which generally involves +anguish and the burning of the midnight oil. I think I enjoyed the art +of the writing almost as much as the story itself. If you want to see +how a sense of touch can make all the difference, you should study +carefully the character of _Leslie_, a genuine creation. But the book +would be worth reading if only for the pleasure of meeting _Hugo +Swayne_, the intellectual _dilettante_ who, when he tried to enlist, was +rejected as not sufficiently intelligent and then set to painting +omnibuses in the Futurist mode, to render them invisible at a distance. +A few weeks from now I shall take down _The Lad With Wings_ from its +shelf and read it all over again. It is that sort of book. + + * * * * * + +When old _Lady Polwhele_ asked the _Reverend Dr. Gwyn_ to let his +daughter _Delia_ go with her as companion to a very smart house party, I +doubt whether the excellent man would have given so ready an assent had +he known what was going to come of it. For my own part I suspected we +were in for yet another version of _Cinderella_, with _Delia_ snubbed by +the smart guests, and eventually united, as like as not, to young _Lord +Polwhele_. However, Miss Dorothea Townshend, who has written about all +these people in _A Lion, A Mouse and a Motor Car_ (Simpkin), had other +and higher views for her heroine. True, the house party was ultra-smart; +true also that there was one woman who spoke and behaved cattishly; but +it was a refreshing novelty to find that throughout the tale the ugly +sisters, so to speak, were hopelessly outnumbered by the fairy +godmothers. Later, the visit led to _Delia's_ going as governess to the +children of a Russian Princess, and finding herself in circles that +might be described as not only fast but furious. Here we were in a fine +atmosphere of intrigue, with spies, and Grand Dukes, and explosive golf +balls and I don't know what beside. It is all capital fun; and, though I +am afraid the political plots left me unconvinced, the thing is told +with such ease and _bonhomie_ that it is saved from banality; even when +the amazing cat of the house-party turns up as a female bandit and tries +to hold _Delia_ and her Princess to ransom. And of course the fact that +the period of the tale is that of the earliest motors gives it the +quaintest air of antiquity. Somehow, talk of sedan chairs would sound +more modern than these thrills of excitement about six cylinders and +"smelly petrol." In short, for many reasons Miss Townshend's book +provides a far brisker entertainment than its cumbrous title would +indicate. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Stephen Graham is fast becoming the arch-interpreter of Holy Russia. +In _The Way of Martha and the Way of Mary_ (Macmillan) he returns with +even more than his customary zeal to his good work, wishing herein +specifically to interpret Russian Christianity to the West. A passionate +earnestness informs his discursive eloquence. I cannot resist the +conviction that he has the type of mind that sees most easily what it +wishes to see. He moves cheerily along, incidentally raising +difficulties which he does not solve, ignoring conclusions which seem +obvious, throwing glorious generalisations and unharmonised +contradictions at the bewildered reader, too bent on his generous +purpose to glance aside for any explanations. Perhaps this is the best +method for an enthusiast to pursue. He certainly creates a vivid picture +of this strangely unknown allied people, with its incredible +otherworldliness, its broad tolerant charity, its freedom from chilly +conventions, its joyous neglect of the hustle and fussiness of Western +life, its deep faith, its childish or childlike superstitions, the +glorious promise of its future. An interesting--even a +fascinating--rather than a conclusive book. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "I haven't had any address for the last few months, so +the authorities have overlooked me. I'd like to join all right, but the +missus can't spare me. I'm a bit of a fisherman and I play the +concertina. Now, what sort of an armlet do I get?"] + + * * * * * + +A Super-Bridegroom. + + "In his seventy-third year the Earl of ---- has made his third + matrimonial venture this week."--_Yorkshire Evening Post._ + +* * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol +150, February 9, 1916, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH/CHARIVARI, FEB 9, 1916 *** + +***** This file should be named 29518.txt or 29518.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/5/1/29518/ + +Produced by Jason Isbell, Jonathan Ingram 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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