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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147,
+December 16, 1914, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, December 16, 1914
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: August 9, 2009 [EBook #29652]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  PUNCH,
+
+  OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+  VOLUME 147
+
+  DECEMBER 16, 1914
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CHARIVARIA.
+
+_T. P.'s Weekly_, in some sprightly lines, suggests that _Punch_ should
+appear daily. This would certainly not be a whit more strange than to
+issue a _T. P.'s Weekly Christmas Number_ as is done by our
+contemporary.
+
+       * * *
+
+Answer to a Correspondent.--Yes, khaki is the fashionable colour for
+plum-puddings for the Front.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Post hoc propter hoc?_ Extract from the Eye-Witness's description of
+the KING'S visit to France:--"Another sight which excited the King's
+keen interest was the large bathing establishment at one of the
+divisional headquarters.... From here the procession returned to General
+Headquarters, where his Majesty received General Foch and presented him
+with the Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath."
+
+       * * *
+
+Sir JOHN FRENCH'S praise of the Berkshire Regiment will surprise no one,
+least of all _Mr. Punch's_ Toby.
+
+       * * *
+
+REUTER tells us that when DE WET arrived at Johannesburg he was looking
+haggard and somewhat depressed. This lends colour to the rumour that he
+was annoyed at being captured.
+
+       * * *
+
+In a letter published by a German newspaper a Landwehr officer
+writes:--"On the German front officers and men do not salute in the
+usual way, but by saying, 'God punish England,' while the reply is, 'May
+He punish England.'" This admission that the Germans themselves cannot
+do it is significant.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Die Post_, in a reference to our million recruits, says, "Mere figures
+will not frighten us." Frankly, some of the figures of the stout
+Landwehr men frighten _us_.
+
+       * * *
+
+At last in Constantinople there are signs that it is being realised that
+the Germans are driving the Turkish Army to Suez-side.
+
+       * * *
+
+When the Germans and the Russians both claim to have won the same
+battle, what can one do? asks a correspondent. We can only suggest that
+the matter should be referred to the Hague Tribunal.
+
+       * * *
+
+An item of war news which the President of the Society for the Promotion
+of Propriety thinks the Censor might very well have censored:--"To the
+south of Lask the Russian troops took Shertzoff."
+
+       * * *
+
+"The Grenadier Guard, 6 ft. 7 in. high, whom the Prince of Wales noticed
+in hospital, is not the tallest man in the British Army, that
+distinction being claimed for Corporal Frank Millin, 2nd Coldstream
+Guards, who is 6 ft. 8-1/2 in." This, again, is the sort of paragraph
+which might have been censored with advantage, for we are quite sure
+that, if the PRINCE OF WALES'S giant sees it, it will cause a relapse.
+
+       * * *
+
+For the first time for many years there were no charges of murder at the
+December Sessions at the Old Bailey. It looks as if yet another of our
+industries has been filched by the Germans.
+
+       * * *
+
+The SECRETARY OF THE ADMIRALTY announces that candidates for
+assistant-clerkships, Royal Navy, who have completed a period of not
+less than three months' actual military service with His Majesty's
+Forces since mobilisation, will be granted fifty marks in the
+examination. It seems a most unpatriotic proceeding to pay them in
+German money.
+
+       * * *
+
+_The Nursing Times_ must really be more careful or we shall have the
+German newspapers drawing attention to atrocities by the French. In its
+issue of the 5th inst. our contemporary says:--"The 'Train unit' whose
+names we gave some weeks ago have waited all this time for their call
+for duty.... And now the French authorities have cut the train--and the
+staff--in two!"
+
+       * * *
+
+Reply to those who think it absurd to take precautions against
+invasion:--It's the Hun-expected that always happens.
+
+       * * *
+
+A great fall of cliff occurred last week between Beachy Head and
+Seaford, and the Germans are pointing out that the break-up of England
+has now begun in earnest.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: "I'M AFRAID IT'LL HAVE TO GO TO THE SAME PLACE AS MY
+GERMAN PIPE WENT--THE DUSTBIN. IT SUITED ME, TOO."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mr. Wells on Men's Wear.
+
+    "Her thoughts came back to the dancing little figure in
+    purple-striped pyjamas. She had a scared sense of irrevocable
+    breaches."
+
+    _The Wife of Sir Isaac Harman._
+
+An obvious misprint in the last word.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Quickest Route.
+
+    "THE KING'S JOURNEY.
+
+    CROSSES CHANNEL IN TORPEDO." Cumberland Evening Mail.
+
+This is the method which the KAISER means to try for his coming invasion
+of England.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Professor G. Sims Woodhead, the Board's consultative
+    bacteriological adviser, to whom the report had been submitted,
+    said: 'I consider Dr. Mair's work contains a germ of great
+    promise.'"
+
+    _Birmingham Daily Mail._
+
+We hope the Professor will not lose sight of the promising young
+microbe.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "For any enemy ship to try to get into Dover at the present time
+    would be like entering the mouth of hell.
+
+    [We understand that the Admiralty have received no condemnation of
+    this.]"
+
+    _Daily Telegraph._
+
+We hope that none of our contemporaries will blame the Admiralty for its
+lack of information.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Rev. Owen S. Watkins, one of the Wesleyan Methodist Chaplains with
+    the Expeditionary Force (already mentioned in the dispatches), tells
+    some most extraordinary stories of his experiences at the Front."
+
+    _Public Opinion._
+
+We remember now some mention of this "Expeditionary Force" being made in
+despatches, and we wondered at the time why the Censor allowed such a
+public reference to it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Russians quietly evacuated Lodz without the loss of a single man.
+The Germans allege that they captured it after strenuous fighting.
+
+"And how can man lie better
+Than facing fearful Lodz?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND MORNING.
+
+    [Lines for _King Albert's Book_, published to-day for the benefit of
+    _The Daily Telegraph's_ Belgian Relief Fund.]
+
+  You that have faith to look with fearless eyes
+    Beyond the tragedy of a world at strife,
+  And trust that out of night and death shall rise
+          The dawn of ampler life;
+
+  Rejoice, whatever anguish rend your heart,
+    That God has given you, for a priceless dower,
+  To live in these great times and have your part
+          In Freedom's crowning hour.
+
+  That you may tell your sons who see the light
+    High in the heaven, their heritage to take:--
+  "I saw the powers of darkness put to flight.
+          I saw the morning break!"
+
+  O. S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FINANCIAL STRATEGY.
+
+In some respects one is no doubt compelled to admire the foresight of
+those gentlemen who are writing the History of the War while it is in
+progress, but as Mabel (my wife and very able colleague) justly
+observes, no History of the War, however copious or however fully
+illustrated, can be considered complete without a few salient details of
+the campaign by which The Snookeries (our domestic stronghold in
+Tooting) was saved from the fate of Belgium.
+
+That omission I propose to remedy. Peace hath her strategy no less than
+War.
+
+For some time prior to the Declaration of War it was evident that the
+butcher, the baker, and other foes of our domestic happiness were
+gathering for an onslaught. The attitude of the butcher was particularly
+uncompromising: I do not hesitate to describe it as distinctly Hun-ish.
+Diplomacy gave little hope of preserving peace, so that I was not
+altogether surprised when the war opened with a heavy bombardment. A
+brigade of small accounts advanced in skirmishing order, but were
+disposed of without trouble.
+
+Mabel suggested a temporary withdrawal to the sand-dunes of
+Mudville-on-Sea, but I pointed out that this meant sacrificing part of
+our scanty store of ammunition and had the further disadvantage of
+cutting us off from our base of supplies in the City, to say nothing of
+losing touch with Uncle Robert, who has so often proved a staunch ally
+in a crisis.
+
+We therefore resolved to entrench ourselves behind the Moratorium and
+prepared for a stubborn resistance. From this strong position we were
+able to sustain without loss a brisk fire of explosive missives which
+continued unchecked for some weeks. Speaking quite candidly, and
+dropping the language of the Press Bureau for the moment, there has
+never been a time when the postman's rat-tat has occasioned me less
+emotion.
+
+The defences of the Moratorium did not save us from sundry annoying
+raids upon our supplies, the butcher being peculiarly active in this
+kind of warfare. I repeat, the butcher is a true Hun and must be sternly
+dealt with after the Peace. I was forced to silence him temporarily with
+a few shots from my new one-pounders.
+
+I would like to say what a valuable weapon the one-pounder has proved in
+this campaign. It is wonderfully mobile and saves the waste of heavier
+ammunition. My only regret is that we were not armed with more of them.
+
+Towards the end of August the rate-man and the gas-man mounted heavy
+ordnance upon official heights. They got our range to a nicety and
+threatened us in flank. I despatched Mabel at once to Uncle Robert, and
+with his assistance we were enabled to silence the enemy's howitzers,
+not, however, before the rate-man--a remorseless and persistent foe--had
+landed a "sheriff's officer" (as we jocularly term his missiles) into
+our dining-room. Little material damage was done, but for some days the
+effect upon the _moral_ of our forces was apparent.
+
+I must not forget to speak of Mabel's brilliant victory over the
+milkman, whose attack she frustrated by a threat to open negotiations
+for obtaining supplies from his hated rival. When these troubles are
+happily over I must certainly see that Mabel receives a decoration.
+
+Towards the end of October our entrenchments behind the Moratorium
+became untenable, but by that time we had received substantial
+reinforcements and were easily able to hold our own against the enemy's
+reckless frontal attacks. The landlord suddenly unmasked a very strong
+battery which created some consternation. He himself appeared in force,
+but, thanks to the vigilance of my outposts, I was enabled to make a
+strategic retirement by the back-garden gate, leaving Mabel to foil the
+enemy by a _ruse-de-guerre_. (Dear Mabel is wonderfully clever at these
+things.) I succeeded in regaining my position under cover of darkness.
+
+The attacks of the landlord were renewed with such vigour that I called
+a council of war to discuss the situation. Retreat being out of the
+question, Mabel suggested a levy of our last reserves, and the charwoman
+(who is a discreet person of considerable experience in such matters)
+was mobilised. In this way we secured a sufficient force to rout the
+landlord on his next appearance.
+
+The last few days have been comparatively quiet. Mabel's dressmaker and
+my tailor have reaffirmed their neutrality, and we have promise of
+further support, if needed, from Uncle Robert. Thus, although the enemy
+appear to contemplate a new attack in the future, we are full of
+confidence.
+
+In conclusion, I must not forget to refer to the very able way in which
+Mabel out-manoeuvred the coal-man. Before he could unlimber, she had
+deftly poured in a rapid fire of sympathy for the slackness of trade
+from which she _knew_ he must be suffering, and followed this up by an
+order for two tons of the best Wallsend.
+
+I think I am justified in advancing the theory that there are no flies
+on dear Mabel.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OFF THE FALKLANDS, DECEMBER 8TH.
+
+    [_To an old nautical air, with Mr. Punch's loud congratulations to
+    Vice-Admiral Sir DOVETON STURDEE and his brave sailors_.]
+
+    Hardened steel are our ships;
+      Gallant tars are our men;
+        We never are wordy
+        (STURDEE, boys, STURDEE!),
+  But quietly conquer again and again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FOR THE CHILDREN.
+
+The Hon. Treasurer of the Hospital for Sick Children, Great Ormond
+Street (where many Belgian children are being cared for) desires to
+express his sincere thanks to _Mr. Punch's_ readers for their generous
+response to the appeal for help which was recently made in these pages.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE SINEWS OF WAR.
+
+PRIVATE ATKINS. "FOR WHAT WE HAVE RECEIVED--AND ARE GOING TO
+RECEIVE--HERE'S TO THE A.S.C."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration:
+
+_Child_ (_much impressed by martial emblems opposite_). "MOTHER, IS THAT
+A SOLDIER?"
+
+_Mother._ "NO, DARLING."
+
+_Child_. "WHY NOT?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+UNWRITTEN LETTERS TO THE KAISER.
+
+No. X.
+
+(_From Mrs. JAMES PROSSER, 25, Paradise Road, Brixton_.)
+
+KAISER,--Jim's gone. I don't know if you'll like to hear it, him being a
+good fighter. I'd warrant him to take the shine out of any two Germans I
+ever met. They're big men, the Germans, but they mostly run to fat after
+their _premmer jewness_, as the Belgian lady over the way said last week
+when we was a-talking about 'em. I don't know what she meant, but she
+didn't look as if it was anything in the way of a compliment. That's why
+I've wrote it down here.
+
+Anyhow, Jim's gone. I saw him off with a lot of others, and they was all
+singing and shouting as loud as their lungs would let 'em--not drink,
+mind you, so don't you run away with that notion, but just high spirits
+and health and happiness. First it was "Tipperary," and that made me
+feel so mournful I had to give Jim a good old hug, and the little un
+pulling at my dress all the time and calling out, "Let me have a go at
+him, Mother," and "Don't give 'em all to Mother, Dad; keep half-a-dozen
+for me," just as sensible as a Christian, which is more than you can say
+of some. His name's Henery, the full name, not Henry, and we had him
+christened so, to make sure. He's going on for five years now, and he's
+got a leg and a chest on him to suit twice his years. I'm not saying
+that because I'm his mother, but because it's the truth. After they'd
+sung "Tipperary" they sang a lot of other songs. There was one in
+particklar that I liked, it had such a go with it. Jim told me it was
+made up by one of their own men, music and all. I misremember most of
+it, but there was two lines stuck in my head:--
+
+  General FRENCH is a regular blazer,
+  He's going to dust the German KAISER.
+
+There was a lot more about theirselves and their officers and their
+colonel, who was second to none and was making tracks for the German
+Hun, all as funny and clever as you could make it. I couldn't help
+laughing to see 'em all so jolly. Then the engine give a whistle and the
+guard said, "Stand back," and waved his green flag, and the train moved
+out, and the men cheered and we cheered back, and at last they was gone,
+and the little un was saying, "Don't mind me, mother. Have a good cry
+and get it over;" and then we went home, and he kept talking all the way
+of what he's going to do when he grows up to be a soldier himself.
+
+Well, Jim's gone, but I wouldn't have had him stay at home not for ever
+so much. He was earning good money, too, in his job, but that's going to
+be kept open for him so as he can drop into it again when he comes back.
+And I'm going to keep his home open for him so as he can drop into that
+when he comes back; there's enough money coming in to make certain of
+that, what with allowances and my work. Mind you, I _like_ to work; it
+keeps you from thinking too much, and me and the little un manage
+splendid together. He helps about the house better nor half-a-dozen
+housemaids, and he's so managing it would make you die of laughing to
+see him. The only trouble is he can't bear going to bed; but I tell him
+if he don't the KAISER'll catch him, and then he's off with his clothes
+and into his cot like a flash of lightning.
+
+There, I've talked about myself and the little un and all the time I
+meant to tell you about Jim. However, you'll know him right enough if
+ever you come up against him. He's a handsome man with black hair and no
+moustache, and he's got a scar over his right eye where he tumbled
+against the fender when he was four years old.
+
+Yours without love,
+
+SARAH PROSSER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Genial Pedestrian._ "A BRIGHT MOON TO-NIGHT, CONSTABLE."
+
+_Morbid P.C._ "YES, SIR. LET'S 'OPE IT DON'T DRAW THE FIRE OF 'OSTILE
+AIR-CRAFT!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE WATCH DOGS.
+
+IX.
+
+DEAR Charles,--As the men, for reasons best known to themselves, will
+suddenly chant on the march--"We're here because we're here, because
+we're here, because we're here," goodness knows when (if ever) we shall
+get to the Front; so this is yet another letter for you from the Back,
+where we are, much against our will, kept to deal kindly but firmly with
+the German invader as, home-sick and sea-sick, he alights gloomily on
+our shores. If, by the way, I have given hints in this correspondence as
+to the disposition of any part of our troops, it is a comfort to think
+that the artful spy who gets hold of them will have the utmost
+difficulty in making up his mind as to the real or fictitious existence
+of (1) my Division; (2) my Brigade; (3) my Battalion; (4) my Company; or
+even (5) me.
+
+Meanwhile we are in a very difficult position, such as I believe few
+soldiers have ever been called upon to face. You will remember how, four
+months ago, we collected ourselves together in accordance with our
+long-standing engagement to protect these islands against the foreign
+trespasser, the condition of our contract being that our service should
+begin (as charity should) and end (as charity often does) at home. In
+the bad old days when I was at the Bar I should of course have known
+that contracts are apt to turn round on those who make them; but now I
+am only a plain soldier and I am unable to understand why I should be
+made to stay at home when I desire to go and make a nuisance of myself
+abroad. But the real trouble comes from this, that some six weeks ago I
+received written and explicit orders to the effect that I was to sail
+forthwith.
+
+Suppose this had happened to you and you had been given special leave of
+forty-eight hours to make all necessary preparations, would not you have
+gone where your more impressionable acquaintances and friends were
+gathered together in the greatest numbers, informing them of the
+position and doing, on the strength of it, a quiet but irretrievable
+swank? No ostentation, mark you, and nothing approaching a boast, but
+just a suspicion of a brave careless laugh, a voice just slightly choked
+with emotion and but a formal reluctance to accept the numerous and
+costly gifts proffered by relatives who at less emotional times would
+have grudged you a Christmas card?
+
+We did. We went home and were made a fuss of; we took our leave and nice
+things were said to us, tears welled, and hands, peculiarly firm or
+peculiarly tender as the case might be, held ours for rather longer than
+the customary period. With a brave "Pooh! Pooh! It doesn't matter in the
+least," we went off at last, off amid deafening cheers to the unknown
+future....
+
+The following week-end we were home again as before, but, since the joy
+of a temporary reprieve may outweigh even the annoyance of an
+anticlimax, they were pleased to see us and gave us another farewell
+only slightly less emotional than the last. But on the third of this
+series of week-ends a note of insincerity crept into the "Goodbye, old
+man," and the hand-pressure was slightly curtailed.
+
+Alas! there have been even more week-ends since that. I trust it is only
+our self-consciousness makes us think that we are looked upon as frauds,
+who have obtained by false pretences the field-glasses, electric
+torches, knitted wares, tears, hand-clasps and choicest superlatives of
+our friends. It becomes worse as time passes; we do not go home now, and
+we would even refrain from writing if we could hope by that means to
+have our whereabouts unknown and our existence doubtful. If the
+authorities won't part with us, they might at least give us an address
+which would make it look as if they had--something like "Capt. Blank,
+Blankth Blank Regt., Blankth Fighting Force, c/o G.P.O." What will
+happen is that we shall go suddenly and without time to explain, and,
+when our friends are told, their faces will cloud over, not with sorrow
+at our departure but with annoyance at being pestered with the news of
+it again. It is a hard life, is a soldier's!
+
+One bold bad private informed our most youthful orderly officer, upon
+being asked if he had had a sufficient breakfast: "Yes, thank you, Sir:
+a glass of water and a woodbine;" otherwise personal idiosyncracies
+become less marked, since individualities become merged in the corporate
+machine. The battalion is cross as a whole, nervy as a whole, laughs as
+a whole, almost sneezes or has indigestion as a whole. Recalling the
+good old days of annual camps, when energy used to be rewarded with free
+beer rather than demanded as a matter of course, the battalion as often
+as not sings as a whole while route-marching at ease past the C.O.:--
+
+  "Nobody knows how dry we are,
+  Nobody knows how dry we are,
+  Nobody knows how dry we are,
+    AND NOBODY SEEMS TO CARE."
+
+While the conduct of all of us becomes every day more disciplined, our
+speech, I have to report with regret, becomes more loose. Emphasis is an
+essential of military life, and it must be such emphasis as the least
+intelligent may readily appreciate. Sometimes I tremble to think in what
+terms I may inadvertently ask some gentle soul later on in life to pass
+the marmalade, or with what expletives I may comment upon some little
+defect in domestic life. My literary friend, John, has shamelessly
+compiled a short phrase-book for our use abroad, reproducing our present
+regrettable idioms. One inquiry, to be addressed to the local peasant by
+the leading officer, runs thus:--"Can you tell me, Sir, where the enemy
+is at present to be found?"--"_Oł sont les Boches sanguinaires?_"
+
+The other point of view as to going to the Front was put last Sunday
+with unconscious aptness. At breakfast we had read aloud to us a letter
+written with inspiring realism by a Watch Dog who is actually there and
+seeing life in all its detail in the trenches. Having listened to it
+with rapt attention, we then marched to church and (actually) sang with
+unanimous fervour:-
+
+  "The trivial round, the common task
+  Will furnish all we need to ask...."
+
+Nevertheless more to be feared than the enraged German is the sceptical
+scornful Aunt of
+
+Yours ever,
+
+  HENRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: AT A MILITARY WEDDING.
+
+_Usher_ (_to Uninvited Guest_). "BRIDE'S FRIENDS TO THE RIGHT;
+BRIDEGROOM'S TO THE LEFT."
+
+_Uninvited Guest._ "I'M AFRAID I'M A NEUTRAL."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Washington, Saturday.--The American Ambassador at Constantinople
+    reports that Turkey has acquiesced in the departure of several
+    Canadian missionaries, whose safe conduct was requested by Sir Cecil
+    Spring-Rice, the British Ambassador here."--_People._
+
+This is headed "Millionaires Released," and shows how well the clergy
+are paid in Canada.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LITTLE BROTHER.
+
+(_The Indian Jackal._)
+
+  Panther, tiger, wolf and bear,
+    They live where the hills are high,
+  Where the eagle swings in the upper air
+    And the gay dacoit is nigh;
+  But we live down in the delta lands,
+    A decenter place to be--
+  The frogs and the bats and Little Brother,
+    The pariah dogs and me.
+
+  He was a Rajah once on a time
+    Who is Little Brother now;
+  And I know it is all for monstrous crime
+    Or shamefully broken vow
+  That he slinks in the dust and eats alone
+    With a pious tongue and free;
+  For a holy man is Little Brother,
+    As beggars ought to be.
+
+  But whether he lurks in the morning light
+    Where the tall plantations grow,
+  Or wanders the village fields by nights
+    Telling of ancient woe;
+  Or whether he's making a sporting run
+    For me and a dog or two,
+  An uncanny beast is Little Brother
+    For Christian eyes to view.
+
+  For there comes an hour at the full o' the moon
+    When the Boh-tree blossoms fall,
+  And a devil comes out of the afternoon
+    And has him a night in thrall;
+  And he hunts till dawn like a questing hound
+    For souls that have lost their way;
+  And it's well to be clear of Little Brother
+    Till the good gods bring the day.
+
+  Wherefore I think I will end my song
+    Wishing him fair good night,
+  For Little Brother's got something wrong
+    That'll never on earth come right;
+  And this perhaps is the honest truth,
+    And the wisest folk agree,
+  The less I know about Little Brother
+    The better by far for me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HOME THOUGHTS FROM THE TRENCHES.
+
+  Old mother mine, at times I find
+     Pauses when fighting's done
+  That make me lonesome and inclined
+  To think of those I left behind--
+     And most of all of one.
+
+  At home you're knitting woolly things--
+     They're meant for me for choice;
+  There's rain outside, the kettle sings
+  In sobs and frolics till it brings
+     Whispers that seem a voice.
+
+  Cheer up! I'm calling, far away;
+     And, wireless, you can hear.
+  Cheer up! you know you'd have me stay
+  And keep on trying day by day;
+     We're winning, never fear.
+
+  Although to have me back's your prayer--
+     I'm willing it should be--
+  You'd never breathe a word to spare
+  Yourself, and stop me playing fair;
+     You're braver far than me.
+
+  So let your dear face twist a smile
+     The way it used to do;
+  And keep on cheery all the while,
+  Rememb'ring hating's not your style--
+     Germans have mothers too.
+
+  And when the work is through, and when
+     I'm coming home to find
+  The one who sent me out, ah! then
+  I'll make you (bless you) laugh again,
+     Old sweetheart left behind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HIGH JINKS AT HAPPY-THOUGHT HALL.
+
+    [_An inevitable article in any decent magazine at this time of the
+    year. Read it carefully, and then have an uproarious time in your
+    own little house._]
+
+IT was a merry party assembled at Happy-Thought Hall for Christmas. The
+Squire liked company, and the friends whom he had asked down for the
+festive season had all stayed at Happy-Thought Hall before, and were
+therefore well acquainted with each other. No wonder, then, that the wit
+flowed fast and furious, and that the guests all agreed afterwards that
+they had never spent such a jolly Christmas, and that the best of all
+possible hosts was Squire Tregarthen!
+
+But first we must introduce some of the Squire's guests to our readers.
+The Reverend Arthur Manley, a clever young clergyman with a taste for
+gardening, was talking in one corner to Miss Phipps, a pretty girl of
+some twenty summers. Captain Bolsover, a smart cavalry officer, together
+with Professor and Mrs. Smith-Smythe from Oxford, formed a small party
+in another corner. Handsome Jack Ellison was, as usual, in deep
+conversation with the beautiful Miss Holden, who, it was agreed among
+the ladies of the party, was not altogether indifferent to his fine
+figure and remarkable prospects. There were other guests, but as they
+chiefly played the part of audience in the events which followed their
+names will not be of any special interest to our readers. Suffice it to
+say that they were all intelligent, well-dressed and ready for any sort
+of fun.
+
+(Now, thank heaven, we can begin.)
+
+A burst of laughter from Captain Bolsover attracted general attention,
+and everybody turned in his direction.
+
+"By Jove, Professor, that's good," he said, as he slapped his knee; "you
+must tell the others that."
+
+"It was just a little incident that happened to me to-day as I was
+coming down here," said the Professor, as he beamed round on the
+company. "I happened to be rather late for my train, and as I bought my
+ticket I asked the clerk what time it was. He replied, 'If it takes six
+seconds for a clock to strike six, how long will it take to strike
+twelve?' I said twelve seconds, but it seems I was wrong."
+
+The others all said twelve seconds too, but they were all wrong. Can
+_you_ guess the right answer?
+
+Illustration: FIG. 1.--TO ILLUSTRATE THE PROFESSOR'S DELIGHTFUL STORY
+OF THE BOOKING-CLERK'S ANSWER.
+
+When the laughter had died down, the Reverend Arthur Manley said:
+
+"That reminds me of an amusing experience which occurred to my
+housekeeper last Friday. She was ordering a little fish for my lunch,
+and the fishmonger, when asked the price of herrings, replied, 'Three
+ha'pence for one and a-half,' to which my housekeeper said, 'Then I will
+have twelve.' How much did she pay?" He smiled happily at the company.
+
+"One-and-sixpence, of course," said Miss Phipps.
+
+"No, no; ninepence," cried the Squire with a hearty laugh.
+
+Captain Bolsover made it come to £1 3_s._ 2-1/2_d._, and the Professor
+thought fourpence. But once again they were all wrong. What do _you_
+make it come to?
+
+Illustration: FIG. 2.--TO ILLUSTRATE THE CURATE'S INGENIOUS PROBLEM OF
+THE FISHMONGER.
+
+It was now Captain Bolsover's turn for an amusing puzzle, and the others
+turned eagerly towards him.
+
+"What was that one about a door?" said the Squire. "You were telling me
+when we were out shooting yesterday, Bolsover."
+
+Captain Bolsover looked surprised.
+
+"Ah, no, it was young Reggie Worlock," said the Squire with a hearty
+laugh.
+
+"Oh, do tell us, Squire," said everybody.
+
+"It was just a little riddle, my dear," said the Squire to Miss Phipps,
+always a favourite of his. "When is a door not a door?"
+
+Miss Phipps said when it was a cucumber; but she was wrong. So were the
+others. See if _you_ can be more successful.
+
+"Yes, that's very good," said Captain Bolsover; "it reminds me of
+something which occurred during the Boer War."
+
+Everybody listened eagerly.
+
+"We were just going into action, and I happened to turn round to my men,
+and say, 'Now, then, boys, give 'em beans!' To my amusement one of them
+replied smartly, 'How many blue beans make five?' We were all so
+interested working it out that we never got into action at all."
+
+"But that's easy," said the Professor. "Five."
+
+"Four," said Miss Phipps. (She would. Silly kid.)
+
+"Six," said the Squire.
+
+Which was right?
+
+Illustration: FIG. 3.--TO ILLUSTRATE THE CAPTAIN'S THRILLING STORY OF
+THE BOER WAR.
+
+Jack Ellison had been silent during the laughter and jollity, always
+such a feature of Happy-Thought Hall at Christmas time, but now he
+contributed an ingenious puzzle to the amusement of the company.
+
+"I met a man in a motor-'bus," he said in a quiet voice, "who told me
+that he had four sons. The eldest son, Abraham, had a dog who used to go
+and visit the three brothers occasionally. The dog, my informant told
+me, was very unwilling to go over the same ground twice, and yet being
+in a hurry wished to take the shortest journey possible. How did he
+manage it?"
+
+For a little while the company was puzzled. Then, after deep thought,
+the Professor said:
+
+"It depends on where they lived."
+
+"Yes," said Ellison. "I forgot to say that my acquaintance drew me a
+map." He produced a paper from his pocket. "Here it is."
+
+Illustration: FIG. 4.--TO ILLUSTRATE THE JOURNEY OF THE SAGACIOUS
+HOUND.
+
+The others immediately began to puzzle over the answer, Miss Phipps
+being unusually foolish, even for her. It was some time before they
+discovered the correct route. What do _you_ think it is?
+
+"Well," said the Squire, with a hearty laugh, "it's time for bed."
+
+One by one they filed off, saying what a delightful evening they had
+had. Jack Ellison was particularly emphatic, for the beautiful Miss
+Holden had promised to be his wife. He, for one, will never forget
+Christmas at Happy-Thought Hall.
+
+    [NOTE.--The originals of the drawings are on sale from the Author at
+    five guineas apiece.]
+
+  A. A. M.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Little Tomkins_ (_to Herculean Coalheaver_). "WHY DON'T
+YOU COME UP THE GREEN A COUPLE O' NIGHTS A WEEK AN' DO A BIT O' SHOOTIN'
+AN' DRILLIN'? YOU'D GET AS FIT AS A FIDDLE."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+STABLE INFORMATION.
+
+  Last winter I wasn't familiar with Brown,
+    Our intercourse didn't extend
+  Past a grunt if we met on the journey to town
+    And a nod when I chose to unbend;
+  But times are _mutata_, and now I've begun
+    To cultivate Brown more and more,
+  For Brown has a son who is friends with the son
+    Of a man at the Office of War.
+
+  When a fog is concealing how matters progress
+    And editors wearily use
+  (Upholding the goodly repute of the Press)
+    A headline from yesterday's news,
+  Brown's knowledge enables his friends to decide
+    What the future is holding in store,
+  For we gather that KITCHENER _loves_ to confide
+    In that man at the Office of War.
+
+  And I in my turn spread the tidings about;
+    To the heart that is apt to be glum
+  And the spirit that suffers severely from doubt
+    Like a sunbeam in winter I come;
+  "The Teuton," I whisper, "will suffer eclipse
+    In the course of a fortnight--no more;
+  I have had it--well, almost direct from the lips
+    Of the Chief of the Office of War."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: UNRECORDED EVENTS IN THE HISTORY OF THE WAR.
+
+GERMAN SOLDIERS BEING ROUSED TO ENTHUSIASM BY THE "HYMN OF HATE."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MAILS FOR A MAILED FIST.
+
+    [The rumours of an invasion of this country, which have been
+    prevalent during the last few days, are presumably responsible for
+    these letters addressed to the Kaiser, which have been intercepted.]
+
+_Northsea Cove, Suffolk._
+
+       * * *
+
+Kind Sir,--Should your troops land in this neighbourhood, would you
+please ask them not to fire off guns between 3 and 4 P.M., as during
+that hour I have my afternoon rest, and I do not sleep very well.
+
+Yours truly,
+WILHELMINA TIMMINS.
+
+       * * *
+
+Sir,--Hearing that you are thinking of sending over an army, we have
+formed a small Reception Committee to provide for its comfort, and
+knowing how concerned you are for the welfare of your troops we think
+you will be glad to learn that complete arrangements have been made for
+conveying them to, and accommodating them at, a salubrious spot called
+Tipperary, immediately on their arrival.
+
+(Signed) J. PUSHER, _Secretary_,
+Eastern and Home Counties Resorts
+Association.
+
+       * * *
+
+Professor Burgess-Brown, the well-known swimming expert, presents his
+compliments. He would be pleased to call at Kiel Harbour (or other
+appointed place) in order to teach the art of natation to German
+soldiers who may, after arrival in England, suddenly find themselves
+deprived of their troopships when wishing to return.
+
+       * * *
+
+Dear Sir,--We hear that a number of your friends are coming to England,
+and shall accordingly welcome an enquiry for our advice, which is always
+at the disposal of the travelling public. We do not know whether you
+propose personally to come over, but we should certainly recommend this
+course, as by travelling _viā_ an English port you could get a boat
+_direct_ to St. Helena and thus save the wearisome changing to which you
+might be exposed in sailing from the Continent.
+
+Yours obediently,
+THE WORLD'S TOURS, LIMITED.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Headquarters, Poppy Patrol Boy Scouts, Cliffe, Norfolk._
+
+Dear Sir,--I don't think there is much use in your troops landing. In
+this county alone there are two hundred and ninety-five more scouts than
+there were in August, and they are still coming in. Of course come if
+you like, but don't say I didn't warn you.
+
+Yours, T. SMITH,
+Patrol Leader.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Imperial Studios, Yarmouth._
+
+Sir,--Hearing that your troops are thinking of visiting the above town,
+we should be glad to take you, in small or large groups. We understand
+that your excursion will be only a half-day one, but we have facilities
+for the immediate development of negatives.
+
+Yours obediently,
+GEORGE GELATINE JONES.
+
+       * * *
+
+WARNING! TO THE KAISER.
+
+_From the Huntsman of the Bungay Foxhounds._
+
+Send your men over if you like. Let them turn their guns on all our
+ancient buildings, destroy crops, blow up bridges; but MIND, if one of
+your Huns raises a rifle to any Norfolk or Suffolk fox, there will be
+trouble of a serious kind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: KILLED!
+
+[With _Mr. Punch's_ compliments to General BOTHA.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Old Lady_ (_to District Visitor_). "DID YOU HEAR A
+STRANGE NOISE THIS MORNING, MISS, AT ABOUT FOUR O'CLOCK? I THOUGHT IT
+WAS ONE OF THEM AIREOPLANES; AND MY NEIGHBOUR WAS SO SURE IT WAS ONE HE
+WENT DOWN AND LET HIS DOG LOOSE."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MINOR WAR GAINS.
+
+  The year that is stormily ending
+    Has brought us full measure of grief,
+  And yet we must thank it for sending
+    At times unexpected relief;
+  These boons are not felt in the trenches
+    Or make our home burdens less hard;
+  They're not a bonanza, but merit a stanza
+    Or two from the doggerel bard.
+
+  The names of musicians and mummers
+    No longer are loud on our lips;
+  By the side of our buglers and drummers
+    CARUSO endures an eclipse;
+  And the legions of freaks and of faddists
+    Who hailed him with rapturous awe,
+  O wonder of wonders, are finding out blunders,
+    And worse, in the writings of SHAW!
+
+  Good BEGBIE, no longer upraising
+    His plea for the "uplift" of Hodge,
+  Has ceased for a season from praising
+    LLOYD GEORGE and Sir OLIVER LODGE;
+  And there hasn't been much in the papers
+    About the next novel from CAINE
+  (No doubt he's in Flanders, the guest of commanders
+    Who reverence infinite brain).
+
+  JOHN WARD has forgiven the Curragh
+    (The Curragh's forgotten JOHN WARD);
+  No longer he cries "Wurra Wurra!"
+    At sight of an officer's sword;
+  MACDONALD, the terror of tigers,
+    Sits silent and meek as a mouse,
+  And the great VON KEIRHARDI is curiously tardy
+    In "voicing" his spleen in the House.
+
+  The screeds of professors and jurists
+    Have quite disappeared from the Press;
+  'Tis little we hear of Futurists,
+    And frankly we care even less;
+  Why, TREVELYAN, the martyr to candour,
+    Who lately his office resigned,
+  Though waters were heaving has sunk without leaving
+    The tiniest ripple behind.
+
+  In fine, though there fall to our fighters
+    Too many hard buffets and humps,
+  'Tis a comfort to think that our blighters
+    Are down in the deadliest dumps;
+  And whatever the future may bring us
+    In profits or pleasures or pains
+  The ill wind that's blowing to-day is bestowing
+    A number of negative gains.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE IDEAL CHRISTMAS CARD.
+
+"Are we sending Christmas cards this year? Yes," said Blathers, "but not
+next year, or the year after that, as we shall be retrenching. They are
+quite modest trifles, yet at the mere sight of the envelope each
+recipient will, cheerfully, I hope, pay twopence towards the sinews of
+war. One hundred of these contributions will amount, I am told, to
+sixteen shillings and eightpence; not much, but it is my little offering
+to the country in her hour of need. This is the card I propose to send
+out in a sealed and unstamped cover":--
+
+    MR. AND MRS. BLATHERS WISH YOU A HAPPY CHRISTMAS 1914, 1915 AND
+    1916, AND A BRIGHT NEW YEAR 1915, 1916 AND 1917.
+
+
+_The Ferns, Tooting._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The Russian mining engineers who have been sent to Galicia since
+    the occupation report that the oil districts will suffice to supply
+    the whole of South-Western Russia. The working of the fields will
+    start in the spring; moreover salt and iron abound, also
+    sporadicalli, silver, copper, lead and the rarer metals."
+
+_Cork Examiner._
+
+For vermicelli, however, it will still be necessary to go to Italy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR NATIONAL GUESTS.
+
+III.
+
+To the list of things that the Belgians in Crashie Howe do not
+understand, along with oatmeal, honey in the comb, and tapioca, must now
+be added the Scottish climate. They do not complain, but they are
+puzzled, and after sixty-five consecutive hours of rain they wonder
+wistfully if it is always like this. We simply dare not tell them the
+truth.
+
+By every post we are busy hunting for lost relatives who are scattered
+before the shattering fist of the KAISER over Great Britain, Belgium,
+Holland and France. We have not been very successful so far, but one or
+two we have found, at points as far apart as York and Milford Haven,
+and, best of all, we have unearthed a great-grandmother, last seen in an
+open coal boat off Ostend, who is now in comfortable quarters in a
+village in Ayrshire.
+
+Our language difficulties have not been assisted by the arrival of a
+family from Antwerp who talk nothing but Walloon, but, on the other
+hand, the progress of the children is now beginning to afford certain
+frail lines of communication. The least of them, Élise, can already
+count up to twenty in English (with a strong Scoto-Flemish accent), and
+so it came about that when I took my little nieces round to pay calls,
+relations were at once established on a numerical basis.
+
+"One, two, three," said Sheila, holding out her hand.
+
+"Four," retorted Juliette, gurgling with delight.
+
+"Five, six, seven," shouted Betty.
+
+"Eight, nine?" enquired Juliette....
+
+At the next cottage, where we were all rather shy, we began tentatively
+with "One?" But we finally gained so much confidence that by the time we
+reached our last visit we ran it up to ten at a single burst, and were
+consequently received with open arms.
+
+One of our main concerns has been the Santa Claus question, and that is
+a matter which touches us closely, as we have among our number eleven
+children of Santa Claus age. There are a good many pitfalls here, and it
+is now unfortunately too late to warn other people of the chief of them.
+For the fact is--as we found to our amazement--that Santa Claus (you
+must, by the way, call him St. Nicholas; after all, it is his proper
+name) comes to Belgium and Russia, not on December 25th, but on December
+6th. All our attempts to explain this phenomenon by the difference in
+the Russian calendar, though ingenious, have failed; it doesn't work out
+at all. Still, for some reason, that is how it is, and we cannot but be
+grateful to St. Nicholas for this delicate attention to our allies, by
+which no doubt they get the pick of the toys, even though we were nearly
+let in by him. Indeed Pierre had practically given up hope. He had told
+his mother that he was afraid St. Nicholas would never find his way to
+Scotland, it was too far.
+
+Then there is another thing which might easily have been overlooked.
+It's no use putting out stockings, as we prefer to do in our insular
+way; one must put out _shoes_. At first sight it looks as if we in this
+country have the pull over our allies here, for one pair of little shoes
+does not hold much stuff. But fortunately it is the happy custom in all
+lands to allow of overflow to any extent. And finally St. Nicholas never
+comes down the chimney; he pops in through the window (which should be
+left slightly open at the bottom so that he can get in his thumb and
+prize it up). Also he never drove a reindeer in his life. He rides a
+horse. And this is of the first importance, for the one condition
+attaching to his benevolence is that you must put out a good wisp of hay
+for the horse, along with your shoes, or else he will simply pass on and
+you will get nothing at all.
+
+Having collected and considered all these facts we were fully prepared
+to meet the situation--even down to the small gingerbread animals which
+always grace the day--on December 6th, and to deal faithfully with the
+little rows of clogs, bulging with hay, which awaited us on St. Nicholas
+Eve.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Weary Variety Agent._ "AND WHAT'S _YOUR_ PARTICULAR
+CLAIM TO ORIGINALITY?"
+
+_Artiste._ "I'M THE ONLY COMEDIAN WHO HAS SO FAR REFRAINED FROM
+ADDRESSING THE ORCHESTRA AS 'YOU IN THE TRENCH.'"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CHRISTMAS PRESENTS, 1914.
+
+"It's perfectly simple," said the Reverend Henry, adopting his lofty
+style. "We must cut the whole lot. There is no other course."
+
+"I don't consider that your opinion is of any value whatever," said
+Eileen. "In fact you ought not to be allowed to take part in this
+discussion. Every one knows that you have always tried to get out of
+Christmas presents, and now you are merely using a grave national
+emergency to further your private ends."
+
+The Reverend Henry was squashed; but Mrs. Sidney had a perfect right to
+speak, for she has been without doubt the most persistent and
+painstaking Christmas provider in the family, and has never been known
+to miss a single relation even at the longest range.
+
+"I quite agree with Henry," said she. "This is no time for Christmas
+presents--except to hospitals and Belgians and men at the Front."
+
+"You mean that you would scratch the whole lot," said I, "even the
+pocket diary for 1915 that I send to Uncle William?"
+
+"Yes, even that. You can send the diary to Sidney" (who is in Flanders).
+"I have always wanted him to keep a diary."
+
+"What about the children?" said I.
+
+"The children must realise," said the Reverend Henry solemnly, "what it
+means for the nation to be at war."
+
+"Oh, no," Laura broke in impetuously. "How can they realise? How can you
+expect Kathleen to realise?"
+
+"Do you know," said the Reverend Henry, "that only last Sunday my niece
+Kathleen was marching all over the house singing at the top of her
+voice, 'It's a long, long way to Tipperary: the Bible tells me so?'
+Obviously she realises."
+
+"But what about----" Eileen was beginning.
+
+"Let's have a scrap of paper," said I, "a contract that we can all sign,
+and then we can put down the exceptions to the rule."
+
+Henry was already hard at work with a sheet of foolscap.
+
+"... not to exchange, give, receive or swap in celebration of
+Christmas, 1914, any gift, donation, subscription, contribution, grant,
+token or emblem within the family and its connections: and further not
+to permit any gift, donation, subscription, contribution, grant, token
+or emblem to emanate from any member of the family to such as are
+outside."
+
+"Good so far," said I.
+
+"The following recipients to be excepted," Henry went on,
+
+"(1) All Hospitals; (2) Belgians; (3) His Majesty's Forces----"
+
+"(4) The Poor and Needy," suggested Eileen.
+
+"(5) The Aged and Infirm," said I. "I only want to get in Great-aunt
+Amelia. She mustn't be allowed to draw a blank."
+
+"That's true," said Henry; "we'll fix the age limit at ninety-one.
+That'll bring her in."
+
+"(6) Children of such tender age that they are unable to realise the
+national emergency," said Mrs. Sidney.
+
+"Quite so," said Henry. "What would you suggest as the age limit?
+Three?"
+
+"Four," said Laura simultaneously.
+
+"I should like to suggest five," said I, "to bring in Kathleen."
+
+"Let's make it seven," said Mrs. Henry. "I can hardly believe that Peter
+realises, you know."
+
+"Stop a bit," said I. "If you take in Peter you can't possibly leave out
+Tom. Make it eight-and-a-half."
+
+"That seems a little hard on Alice, doesn't it?" said Eileen.
+
+"Any advance on eight-and-a-half?" called Henry from the writing-desk.
+And from that moment the discussion assumed the character of an auction,
+Laura finally running it up to thirteen (which brings in the twins) to
+the general satisfaction.
+
+When the contract was signed, witnessed and posted on its way to the
+other signatories there was a general sense of relief that Christmas
+would not be very different from usual after all. Henry growled a good
+deal. But we know our Reverend Henry: he will do his duty when the time
+comes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The Prince of Wales noticed a private in his own regiment, the
+    Grenadier Guards, who is six feet inches in height. He is six feet
+    inches in height."--_Scotsman._
+
+It sounds silly, but the writer evidently means it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE RULING PASSION.
+
+_Voice from below._ "FOR 'EAVEN'S SAKE, MUM, GET BACK. THE FIRE-ESCAPE
+WILL BE 'ERE IN FIVE MINUTES."
+
+_Endangered Female._ "Five minutes? Then throw me back my knitting."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE WILLOW-PATTERN PLATE.
+
+  A Philistine? Then you will smile
+    At this old willow-pattern plate
+    And junks of long-forgotten date
+  That anchor off Pagoda Isle;
+
+  At little pig-tailed simpering rakes
+    Who kiss their hands (three miles away)
+    To dainty beauties of Cathay
+  Beside those un-foreshortened lakes.
+
+  With hand on heart they smile and sue.
+    Their topsy-turvy world, you say,
+    Is out of all perspective? Nay,
+  'Tis we who look at life askew.
+
+  Dreams lose their spell; hard facts we prize
+    In our humdrum philosophy;
+    But, could we change, who would not be
+  A suitor for those azure eyes?
+
+  Who would not sail with fairy freight
+    Piloting some flat-bottomed barge--
+    A size too small, or else too large--
+  On this old willow-pattern plate?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The 'Figaro' publishes a telegram from Petrograd which contradicts
+    the German announcement that Lodz is occupied by the
+    Kermans."--_Lancashire Evening Post._
+
+And quite right too.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A MARNE FOOTNOTE.
+
+There was a battlefield, I was told, with a ruined village near it,
+about as far from Paris as Sevenoaks is from London, and I decided to
+see it. The preliminaries, they said, would be difficult, but only
+patience was needed--patience and one's papers all in order. It would be
+necessary to go to the War Bureau, opposite the Invalides.
+
+I went to the War Bureau opposite the Invalides one afternoon. I rang
+the bell and a smiling French soldier opened the door. Within were long
+passages and other smiling French soldiers in little knots guarding the
+approaches, all very bureaucratic. The head of the first knot referred
+me to the second knot; the head of the second referred me to a third.
+The head of this knot, which guarded the approach to the particular
+military mandarin whom I needed or thought I needed, smiled more than
+any of them, and, having heard my story, said that that was certainly
+the place to obtain leave. But it was unwise and even impossible to go
+by any other way than road, as the railway was needed for soldiers and
+munitions of war, and therefore I must bring my chauffeur with me, with
+his papers, which must be examined and passed.
+
+My chauffeur? I possessed no such thing. Necessary then to provide
+myself with a chauffeur at once. Out I went in a fusillade of courtesies
+and sought a chauffeur. I visited a taxi rank and stopped this man and
+that, but all shied at the distance. At last one said that his garage
+would provide me with a car. So off to the garage we went, and there I
+had an interview with a manager, who declined to believe that permission
+for the expedition would be made at all, except possibly to oblige a
+person of great importance. Was I a person of great importance? he asked
+me. Was I? I wondered. No, I thought not. Very well then, he considered
+it best to drop the project.
+
+I came away and hailed another taxi, driven by a shaggy grey hearthrug.
+I told him my difficulties, and he at once offered to drive me anywhere
+and made no bones about the distance whatever. So it was arranged that
+he should come for me on the morrow--say Tuesday, at a quarter to
+eleven, and we would then get through the preliminaries and my lunch
+comfortably by noon and be off and away. So do hearthrugs talk with
+foreigners--light-heartedly and confident. But Heaven disposes. For when
+we reached the Bureau at a minute after eleven the next morning the
+smiling janitor told us we were too late. Too late at eleven? Yes, the
+office in question was closed between eleven and two; we must return at
+two.
+
+"But the day will be over," I said; "the light will have gone. Another
+day lost!" Nothing on earth can crystallize and solidify so swiftly and
+implacably as the French official face. At these words his smile
+vanished. He was not angry or threatening--merely granite. Those were
+the rules, and how could anyone question them? At two, he repeated: and
+again I left the building, this time not bowing quite so effusively, but
+suppressing a thousand criticisms which might have been spoken were not
+the French our allies.
+
+Three hours to kill in a city where everything is shut. No Louvre, no
+Carnavalet! However, the time went, chiefly over lunch, and at two we
+were there again, the hearthrug and I, and were shown into a
+waiting-room where far too many other persons had already assembled. To
+me this congestion seemed deplorable; but the hearthrug merely grinned.
+It was all a new experience to him, and his meter was registering the
+time. We waited, I suppose, forty minutes and then came our turn, and we
+were led to a little room where sat a typical elderly French officer at
+a table. He had white moustaches and was in uniform with blue and red
+about it. I bowed, he bowed, the hearthrug grovelled. I explained my
+need, and he replied instantly that I had come to the wrong place; the
+right place was the Conciergerie.
+
+Another rebuff! In England I might have told him that it was one of his
+own idiotic men who had told me otherwise, but of what use would that be
+in France? In France a thing is or is not, and there is no getting round
+it if it is not. French officials are portcullises, and they drop as
+suddenly and as effectively. Knowing this, so far from showing
+resentment or irritation, I bowed and made my thanks as though I had
+come for no other purpose than a dose of frustration; and again we left
+this cursed Bureau.
+
+I re-entered the taxi, which, judging by the meter, I should very soon
+have completely paid for, and we hurtled away (for the hearthrug was a
+demon driver) to Paris's Scotland Yard. Here were more passages, more
+little rooms, more inflexible officials. I had bowed to half-a-dozen and
+explained my errand before at last the right one was reached, and him
+the hearthrug grovelled to again and called "Mon Colonel." He sat at a
+table in a little room, and beside him, all on the same side of the
+table, sat three civilians. On the wall behind was a map of France. What
+they did all day, I wondered, and how much they were paid for it; for we
+were the only clients, and the suggestion of the place was one of
+anecdotage and persiflage rather than toil. They acted with the utmost
+unanimity. First "Mon Colonel" scrutinised my passport, and then the
+others, in turn, scrutinised it. What did I want to go to ---- for? (The
+name is suppressed because it is two or three months since the battle
+was fought there.) I replied that my motive was pure curiosity. Did I
+know it was a very dull town? I wanted to see the battlefield. That
+would be _triste_ too. Yes, I knew, but I was interested. "Mon Colonel"
+shrugged and wrote on a piece of paper and passed the paper to the first
+civilian, who wrote something else and passed it on, and finally the
+last one got it and discovered a mistake in the second civilian's
+writing, and the mistake had to be initialled by all the lot, each
+making great play with a blotter; and at last the precious document was
+handed to me and I was really free to start. But it was now dark.
+
+       * * *
+
+The road from ---- leaves the town by a hill, crosses a canal, and then
+mounts and winds, and mounts again, and dips and mounts, between fields
+of stubble, with circular straw-stacks as their only occupants. The
+first intimation of anything untoward, besides the want of life, was the
+spire of the little white village of ---- on the distant hill, which
+surely had been damaged. As one drew nearer it was clear that not only
+had the spire been damaged, but that the houses had been damaged too.
+The place seemed empty and under a ban.
+
+I stopped the car outside, at the remains of a burned shed, and walked
+along the desolate main street. All the windows were broken; the walls
+were indented with little holes or perforated with big ones. The roofs
+were in ruins. Here was the post-office; it is now half demolished and
+boarded up. There was the inn; it is now empty and forlorn. Half the
+great clock face leant against a wall. Everyone had fled--it is a
+"deserted village" with a vengeance: nothing left but a few fowls.
+Everything was damaged; but the church had suffered most. Half of the
+shingled spire was destroyed, most of the roof, and the great bronze
+bell lay among the _débris_ on the ground. It is as though the enemy's
+policy was to intimidate the simple folk through the failure of their
+super-natural stronghold. "If the church is so pregnable, then what
+chance have we?"--that is the question which it was hoped would be
+asked; or so I imagined as I stood before this ruined sanctuary.
+Where, I wondered, are those villagers now, and what chances are there
+of the rebuilding of these old peaceful homes, so secure and placid only
+four months ago?
+
+And then I walked to the battlefield a few hundred yards away, and only
+too distinguishable as such by the little cheap tricolors on the
+hastily-dug graves among the stubble and the ricks. Hitherto I had
+always associated these ricks with the art of Claude Monet, and seeing
+the one had recalled the other; but henceforward I shall think of those
+poor pathetic graves sprinkled among them, at all kinds of odd angles to
+each other--for evidently the holes were dug parallel with the bodies
+beside them--each with a little wooden cross hastily tacked together,
+and on some the remnants of the soldier's coat or cap, or even boots,
+and on some the blue, white and red. As far as one can distinguish,
+these little crosses break the view: some against the sky-line, for it
+is hilly about here, others against the dark soil.
+
+It was a day of lucid November sunshine. The sky was blue and the air
+mild. A heavy dew lay on the earth. Not a sound could be heard; not a
+leaf fluttered. No sign of life. We were alone, save for the stubble and
+the ricks and the wooden crosses and the little flags. How near the dead
+seemed: nearer than in any cemetery.
+
+Suddenly a distant booming sounded; then another and another. It was the
+guns at either Soissons or Rheims--the first thunder of man's hatred of
+man I had ever heard.
+
+So I, too, non-combatant, as _Anno-Domini_ forces me to be, know
+something of war--a very little, it is true, but enough to make a
+difference when I read the letters from the trenches or meet a Belgian
+village refugee.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Pompous Lady._ "I SHALL DESCEND AT KNIGHTSBRIDGE."
+
+_Tommy_ (_aside_). "TAKES 'ERSELF FOR A BLOOMIN' ZEPPELIN!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "General Joffre then engaged in a short conversation with several
+    journalists, and when they referred to the military medal which M.
+    Poincaré pinned on his chest, he said: '3/8 All this counts for
+    nothing.'"
+
+    _Manchester Guardian._
+
+But on the other 5/8 we offer our respectful congratulations.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE PROPHETS.
+
+  I have a friend, a gloomy soul,
+    Who daily wails about the war,
+  Taking the line that, on the whole,
+    Our luck is rotten at the core,
+        And into each success
+  Reads some disaster, rather more than less.
+
+  Another friend I have, whose heart
+    Beats with "abashless" confidence,
+  Who sees the KAISER in the cart
+    And hung in chains "a fortnight hence";
+        He saw this months ago,
+  And some day hopes to say, "I told you so."
+
+  When Heraclitus brings a cloud,
+    Democritus provides the sun;
+  Or should the Hopeful crow too loud,
+    I listen to the Mournful One;
+        And thus, between the two,
+  I find a fairly rational point of view.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Faces We have no Use For.
+
+    "Once or twice he sighed a little, although he had an uninterrupted
+    view of a profile as regular as a canoe."--_New Magazine._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AT THE PLAY.
+
+"THE MAN WHO STAYED AT HOME."
+
+No, he was not a shirker, as you thought. Nor was he engaged in making
+munitions of war, or khaki, or woollens, or military boots, or in
+exporting cocoa to the enemy _viā_ neutral Holland--that roaring
+monopoly of the Pacificist. His business was to spy at spies--a task
+that called for as much coolness and courage as any job at the Front.
+And so when the officious flapper presented him with a white feather he
+had no use for it except as a pipe-cleaner.
+
+For his purpose _Christopher Brent_ had taken up his residence at a
+"select boarding establishment" on the East Coast, which contained the
+following members of the German Secret Service: _Mrs. Sanderson_,
+proprietress; _Carl_, her son, clerk in the British Admiralty; _Fräulein
+Schroeder_, boarder, and _Fritz_, waiter. Their design, if I rightly
+penetrated its darkness, was to give information of the whereabouts of a
+certain section of the Expeditionary Force which was "coming through
+from the North"; to supply Berlin with plans of the coast defences; and
+finally to give a signal to a German submarine by the firing of the
+house, which would incidentally mean the roasting alive of its innocent
+contents. All this (for the sake of ARISTOTLE and the Unities) was to
+take place in a single day, though I for one could not believe that
+either the pigeon post or the ordinary mail would be equal to the
+strain.
+
+Their utensils included a Marconi instrument concealed in the chimney; a
+bomb; a revolver; maps of the minefield and harbour; a carrier-pigeon,
+and a knife for disposing of the cliff-sentry.
+
+To frustrate their schemes something more was needed than the wit of
+_Brent_ and his ally, the widow _Leigh_; something more, even, than his
+skill in shooting pigeons in flight with an air-rifle. The vacuum was
+supplied by the crass stupidity of the EMPEROR'S minions. Even when full
+credit is given to _Brent_ for letting his bath overflow so as to flood
+the public salon and render it untenable, it was surely unwise of _Mrs.
+Sanderson_ to offer her private parlour for the use of the boarders on
+the very day set apart for the execution of her plans which were centred
+in this room. It was also gross carelessness on the part of her son,
+when he had _Brent_, with hands up, at his mercy, to place his own
+revolver on the table and to use, in exchange, the unloaded weapon which
+he had taken from his opponent's pocket. It was puerile, too, to accept
+without proof the verbal assurances of the widow _Leigh_ that she was
+one of themselves, a loyal German spy. And _Fritz_ committed an
+unpardonable error in giving away the site of the Marconi apparatus by
+his undisguised suspicion of anybody who took any interest in the
+fireplace.
+
+And so their schemes all went agley; the whole pack was arrested; and
+when the curtain fell on a happy group of boarders in midnight
+_déshabillé_ there was every promise that the misdemeanants would
+receive a month's imprisonment or at least a caution to be of good
+behaviour for the future.
+
+Illustration:
+
+"HANDS UP!"
+
+"HANDS UP YOURSELF!"
+
+_Carl Sanderson._ .. Mr. MALCOLM CHERRY.
+_Christopher Brent._ .. Mr. DENNIS EADIE.
+
+I understand, on good authority, that the tendency of the public at this
+juncture of the War is to demand light refreshment. Well, they have it
+here. For, though the subject deals with a serious problem of the hour,
+it can be treated, and is treated, with a very permissible humour that
+just stops short of farce. Some of the stage-devices, as I am assured by
+my betters, may have a touch of antiquity, but their application is as
+modern as can well be, and I should indeed be ungrateful if after an
+entertainment so smoothly and dexterously administered I were to be
+captious about origins or other matters of pedantry.
+
+Mr. DENNIS EADIE, as _Brent_, both in his real character of detective
+and in the assumed futility of his disguise as a genial idiot, was
+equally excellent, and again proved his gift for quick-change artistry.
+Miss MARY JERROLD'S _Fräulein Schroeder_ was extraordinarily Teutonic in
+all but her quiet humour, which she seemed to have caught from the
+country of her adoption. The _Fritz_ of Mr. HENRY EDWARDS was another
+delightful sketch, though his actual German birth and his allegation of
+Dutch nationality were both belied by the red Italian corpuscles with
+which the authors had inoculated him. Miss JEAN CADELL, as usual, played
+a pale and fatuous spinster, but this time, in the part of _Miss
+Myrtle_, she had her chance, and seized it bravely. When that typical
+British boarder, Mr. _John Preston, M. P._ (interpreted with great relish
+and vigour by Mr. HUBERT HARBEN), remarked, "I call a spade a spade,"
+she replied, "And I suppose you would call a dinner-napkin a
+_serviette_"--one of the pleasantest remarks in a play where the good
+things said were many and unforced.
+
+I have not mentioned the admirable performance--its merits might easily
+be missed--of Mr. STANLEY LOGAN as a Territorial Tommy; or the very
+natural manners of Mrs. ROBERT BROUGH as _Mrs. Sanderson_; or the quiet
+art of Miss RUTH MACKAY in a part (_Miriam Leigh_) that offered a
+too-limited scope to her exceptional talents. Miss ISOBEL ELSOM
+contributed her share of the rather perfunctory love-interest with a
+very pretty sincerity; and Mr. MALCOLM CHERRY, in the ungrateful part of
+the spy _Carl_, did his work soundly, with a lofty sacrifice of his own
+obvious good-nature. Indeed, it was a very excellent cast.
+
+I should like to congratulate the authors, Messrs. LECHMERE WORRALL, and
+HAROLD TERRY, on having given the public what they want, without lapsing
+into banality. The attraction of the first two Acts was not, perhaps,
+fully sustained in the third, but they gave us quite a cheerful evening;
+and at the fall of the curtain the audience was so importunate in their
+applause that Mr. DENNIS EADIE had to break it to them that, though the
+loss of their company would give him pain, he thought the time had come
+for them to go away.
+
+I did not notice Mr. REGINALD MCKENNA in the stalls, but it was a great
+night for him and the Home Office.
+
+  O. S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Raison de Plus.
+
+    Says the sleek humanitarian: "Any sacrifice I'd make
+    For the voluntary system--up to going to the stake,"
+    Which inspires the obvious comment that contingencies like this
+    Turn the coming of conscription to unmitigated bliss.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The remaining characters were taken by Mr. HERBERT LOMAS as Ever, a
+    splendid actor...."--_Manchester City News._
+
+You should see Sir HERBERT TREE as Always.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: LANGUAGE-KULTUR.
+
+_Voice from the darkness._ "DOAND SHOOD! DOAND SHOOD! VE VOS DE
+VILTSHIRES."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
+
+If _The Prussian Officer_, a study of morbidly vicious cruelty practised
+by a captain of Cavalry on his helpless orderly (and the first of a
+sheaf of collected stories, short or shortish, by Mr. D. H. LAWRENCE,
+issued by Messrs. DUCKWORTH), had been written since the declaration of
+war it would certainly be discounted as a product of the prevailing
+_odium bellicosum_. But it appeared well in the piping times of peace,
+and I remember it (as I remember others of the collection) with a
+freshness which only attaches to work that lifts itself out of the
+common ruck. An almost too poignant intensity of realism, expressed in a
+distinguished and fastidious idiom, characterises Mr. LAWRENCE'S method.
+It is a realism not of minutely recorded outward happenings, trivial or
+exciting, but of fiercely contested agonies of the spirit. None of those
+stories is a story in the accepted mode. They are studies in (dare one
+use the overworked word?) psychological portraiture. I don't know any
+other writer who realises passion and suffering with such objective
+_force_. The word "suffering" drops from his pen in curiously unexpected
+contexts. The fact of it seems to obsess him. Yet it is no morbid
+obsession. He seems to be dominated by sympathy in its literal meaning,
+and it gives his work a surprising richness of texture.... I dare press
+this book upon all such as need something more than mere yarns, who have
+an eye for admirably sincere workmanship and are interested in their
+fellows--fellows of all sorts, soldiers, keepers, travellers, clergymen,
+colliers, with womenfolk to match.
+
+       * * *
+
+On a map of the North you may be able to find an island named after one
+_Margaret_. It should lie, though I have sought it in vain, just about
+where the florid details of the Norwegian coast-line run up to those
+blank spaces that are dotted over, it would seem, only by the occasional
+footprints of polar bears. Anyhow it was so christened by two bold
+mariners who lived in the _Spacious Days_ (MURRAY) of QUEEN ELIZABETH.
+That they both loved the lady (ELIZABETH, of course, too--but I mean
+_Margaret_) may be assumed; but that they should eventually, with one
+accord, desire to resign their claims upon her affection must be read to
+be understood. I for one did not quarrel with them on this score. For
+had not their mistress in the meantime found companionship more suitable
+than theirs? Besides, if even the author is so little courteous to his
+heroine as to invite her to appear only in two chapters between the
+third and the twenty-seventh, why should two rough sea-dogs--or you and
+I--be more attentive? And indeed it is a correct picture of his period
+that Mr. RALPH DURAND is concerned to present rather than a love story.
+In the writing of the love scenes considered necessary to the mechanism
+of the plot he seems very little at his ease; and so marked at times is
+his discomfort that I must confess to having felt some irritation when
+my willingness to be convinced was not met halfway. In the handling of
+his sheets and oars I like the author better, though even here I miss
+what might have brought me into a companionship with his people as close
+as I could wish on a most adventurous journey of nearly four hundred
+pages. But perhaps that is my fault; and, at the least, here is a
+straightforward sea story--as honest as the sea and as clean.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Llanyglo_ was a child with fair hair and blue eyes, and how she grew
+and what she learnt, and all the changes of her dresses and her soul,
+are set forth by Mr. OLIVER ONIONS in _Mushroom Town_ (HODDER AND
+STOUGHTON). She differed from the children of other novelists who grow
+up to be men and women, because she was made of bricks and mortar and
+iron girders and romantic scenery and ozone (especially ozone), and the
+people who lived with her or took trips to see her are treated as a mere
+emblematical garnish of her character and growth. _Llanyglo_ is a
+daughter of Wales, but she is not any town that you may happen to have
+seen, although possibly Blackpool and Douglas and Llandudno have met
+her, and turned up their noses at her, as she turned up her nose at
+them. Lancashire built and conquered her, to be conquered and annually
+recuperated in turn. _Cymria capta ferum_ ... might have been the motto
+of her municipal arms. Exactly how Mr. ONIONS exhibits the romantic
+spectacle of her development, with the strange knowledge she picked up,
+as from virgin wildness she became first select and then popular, I
+cannot hope to explain. Suffice it to say that the process is epitomised
+in sketches of the various people who helped in the moulding of her--the
+drunken _Kerr_ brothers, who built a house in a single night; _Howell
+Gruffydd_, the wily grocer; _Dafydd Dafis_, the harper; and _John Willie
+Garden_, son of the shrewd cotton-spinner who first saw the
+possibilities of the place, and won the heart of the untamed gipsy girl,
+_Ynys_. This is surely Mr. ONIONS' best novel since _Good Boy Seldom_;
+and as _Llanyglo_ is safely ensconced on the West coast you should go
+there at once for the winter season.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Spragge's Canyon_ (SMITH, ELDER), takes its title, as you might guess,
+from the canyon where the _Spragges_ lived. It was a delightful spot, a
+kind of earthly paradise (snakes included), and the _Spragge_ family had
+made it all themselves out of unclaimed land on the Californian coast.
+Wherefore the _Spragges_ loved it with a love only equalled perhaps by
+the same emotion in the breast of Mr. H. A. VACHELL, who has written a
+book about it. The _Spragges_ of the tale are _Mrs. Spragge_, widow of
+the pioneer, and her son _George_. With them on the ranch lived also a
+cousin, _Samantha_, a big-built capable young woman, destined by
+Providence and _Mrs. Spragge_ to be the helpmate of _George_. But
+_George_, though he was strong and handsome and a perfect marvel with
+rattlesnakes (which he collected as a subsidiary source of income), was
+also a bit of a fool; and when, on one of his rare townward excursions,
+he got talking to _Hazel Goodrich_ in a street car, her pale
+attractiveness and general lure proved too much for him. Accordingly
+_Hazel_ was asked down to the ranch on a visit (I am taking it on trust
+that Mr. VACHELL knows the Californian etiquette in these matters) and
+has the time of her life, flirting with the love-lorn _George_,
+impressing his mother, and generally scoring off poor _Samantha_. At
+least so she thought. Really, however, _Mrs. Spragge_ had taken
+_Hazel's_ measure in one, and was all the time quietly fighting her
+visitor for her son's future. This fight, and the character of the
+mother who makes it, are the best things in the book. I shall not tell
+you who wins. Personally I had expected a comedy climax, and was
+unprepared for creeps. But _George_, I may remind you, collected snakes.
+A good and virile tale.
+
+       * * *
+
+Sir MELVILLE MACNAGHTEN hopes, in his Introduction to _Days of my Years_
+(Arnold), that his reminiscences "may be found of some interest to a
+patient reader"; and, when one considers that _Sir Melville_ spent
+twenty-four years at Scotland Yard, many of them as chief of the
+Criminal Investigation Department, he can hardly be accused of undue
+optimism. Speaking as one of his readers, I found no difficulty at all
+in being patient. I have always had a weakness for official detectives,
+and have resented the term "Scotland Yard bungler" almost as if it were
+a personal affront; and now I feel that my resentment is justified.
+Scotland Yard does not bungle; and the advice I shall give for the
+future to any eager-eyed, enthusiastic young murderer burning to embark
+on his professional career is, don't practise in London. I would not
+lightly steal a penny toy in the Metropolitan area. There are two
+hundred and seventy-nine pages in this story of crime, as seen by the
+man at the very centre of things, and nearly every one of them is packed
+with matter of absorbing interest. Consider the titles of the chapters:
+"Bombs and their Makers"; "Motiveless Murders"; "Half-a-day with the
+Blood-hounds." This, I submit, is the stuff; this, I contend, is the
+sort of thing you were looking for. There is something so human and
+simple in Sir MELVILLE'S method of narration that it is with an effort
+that one realises what an important person he really was, and what
+extraordinary ability he must have had to win and hold his high
+position. Even when he disparages blood-hounds I reluctantly submit to
+his superior knowledge and abandon one of my most cherished illusions. I
+hate to do it, but if he says that a blood-hound is no more use in
+tracking criminals than a Shetland pony would be, I must try to believe
+him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE COMPLETE SALESMAN.
+
+_Lady_ (_rather difficult to please_). "I LIKE THIS ONE, BUT--I SEE IT'S
+PRINTED IN GERMANY."
+
+_Salesman._ "WELL, IF YOU LIKE IT, MADAM, I WOULDN'T TAKE TOO MUCH
+NOTICE OF THAT STATEMENT. IT'S PROBABLY ONLY ANOTHER GERMAN LIE!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Revenge.
+
+    "After Herr Von Holman Bethwig's wild speech in the German Reichstag
+    the Government might change their minds."
+
+    _Cork Constitution._
+
+It isn't much one can do to the GERMAN CHANCELLOR just now, but these
+misprints of his name always annoy him, and every little helps.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol.
+147, December 16, 1914, by Various
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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, December 16, 1914, by Various</title>
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147,
+December 16, 1914, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, December 16, 1914
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: August 9, 2009 [EBook #29652]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</a></span></p>
+
+<h1>PUNCH,<br />
+
+OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+
+<h2>VOLUME 147</h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2><span class="smcap">December</span> 16, 1914</h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2>
+
+<p><i>T. P.'s Weekly</i>, in some sprightly lines, suggests that <i>Punch</i> should
+appear daily. This would certainly not be a whit more strange than to
+issue a <i>T. P.'s Weekly Christmas Number</i> as is done by our
+contemporary.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Answer to a Correspondent.&mdash;Yes, khaki is the fashionable colour for
+plum-puddings for the Front.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p><i>Post hoc propter hoc?</i> Extract from the Eye-Witness's description of
+the KING'S visit to France:&mdash;"Another sight which excited the King's
+keen interest was the large bathing establishment at one of the
+divisional headquarters.... From here the procession returned to General
+Headquarters, where his Majesty received General Foch and presented him
+with the Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath."</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Sir <span class="smcap">John French's</span> praise of the Berkshire Regiment will surprise no one,
+least of all <i>Mr. Punch's</i> Toby.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Reuter</span> tells us that when <span class="smcap">De Wet</span> arrived at Johannesburg he was looking
+haggard and somewhat depressed. This lends colour to the rumour that he
+was annoyed at being captured.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>In a letter published by a German newspaper a Landwehr officer
+writes:&mdash;"On the German front officers and men do not salute in the
+usual way, but by saying, 'God punish England,' while the reply is, 'May
+He punish England.'" This admission that the Germans themselves cannot
+do it is significant.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p><i>Die Post</i>, in a reference to our million recruits, says, "Mere figures
+will not frighten us." Frankly, some of the figures of the stout
+Landwehr men frighten <i>us</i>.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>At last in Constantinople there are signs that it is being realised that
+the Germans are driving the Turkish Army to Suez-side.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>When the Germans and the Russians both claim to have won the same
+battle, what can one do? asks a correspondent. We can only suggest that
+the matter should be referred to the Hague Tribunal.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>An item of war news which the President of the Society for the Promotion
+of Propriety thinks the Censor might very well have censored:&mdash;"To the
+south of Lask the Russian troops took Shertzoff."</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>"The Grenadier Guard, 6 ft. 7 in. high, whom the Prince of Wales noticed
+in hospital, is not the tallest man in the British Army, that
+distinction being claimed for Corporal Frank Millin, 2nd Coldstream
+Guards, who is 6 ft. 8½ in." This, again, is the sort of paragraph
+which might have been censored with advantage, for we are quite sure
+that, if the <span class="smcap">Prince of Wales's</span> giant sees it, it will cause a relapse.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>For the first time for many years there were no charges of murder at the
+December Sessions at the Old Bailey. It looks as if yet another of our
+industries has been filched by the Germans.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>The <span class="smcap">Secretary of the Admiralty</span> announces that candidates for
+assistant-clerkships, Royal Navy, who have completed a period of not
+less than three months' actual military service with His Majesty's
+Forces since mobilisation, will be granted fifty marks in the
+examination. It seems a most unpatriotic proceeding to pay them in
+German money.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p><i>The Nursing Times</i> must really be more careful or we shall have the
+German newspapers drawing attention to atrocities by the French. In its
+issue of the 5th inst. our contemporary says:&mdash;"The 'Train unit' whose
+names we gave some weeks ago have waited all this time for their call
+for duty.... And now the French authorities have cut the train&mdash;and the
+staff&mdash;in two!"</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Reply to those who think it absurd to take precautions against
+invasion:&mdash;It's the Hun-expected that always happens.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>A great fall of cliff occurred last week between Beachy Head and
+Seaford, and the Germans are pointing out that the break-up of England
+has now begun in earnest.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/489.png">
+<img src="images/489.png" width="100%" alt="I&#39;m afraid it&#39;ll have to go to the same place as my
+German pipe went" /></a><br /><br />
+<p>"<span class="smcap">I'm afraid it'll have to go to the same place as my
+German pipe went&mdash;the dustbin. It suited me, too</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h4>Mr. Wells on Men's Wear.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>"Her thoughts came back to the dancing little figure in
+purple-striped pyjamas. She had a scared sense of irrevocable
+breaches."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="author"><i>The Wife of Sir Isaac Harman.</i></p>
+
+<p>An obvious misprint in the last word.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h4>The Quickest Route.</h4>
+
+<center>"THE KING'S JOURNEY.<br />
+
+<span class="smcap">Crosses Channel in Torpedo.</span>"</center>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Cumberland Evening Mail.</i></p>
+
+<p>This is the method which the <span class="smcap">Kaiser</span> means to try for his coming invasion
+of England.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>"Professor G. Sims Woodhead, the Board's consultative
+bacteriological adviser, to whom the report had been submitted,
+said: 'I consider Dr. Mair's work contains a germ of great
+promise.'"</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Birmingham Daily Mail.</i></p>
+
+<p>We hope the Professor will not lose sight of the promising young
+microbe.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>"For any enemy ship to try to get into Dover at the present time
+would be like entering the mouth of hell.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>[We understand that the Admiralty have received no condemnation of
+this.]"</p>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Daily Telegraph.</i></p>
+
+<p>We hope that none of our contemporaries will blame the Admiralty for its
+lack of information.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>"Rev. Owen S. Watkins, one of the Wesleyan Methodist Chaplains with
+the Expeditionary Force (already mentioned in the dispatches), tells
+some most extraordinary stories of his experiences at the Front."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Public Opinion.</i></p>
+
+<p>We remember now some mention of this "Expeditionary Force" being made in
+despatches, and we wondered at the time why the Censor allowed such a
+public reference to it.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>The Russians quietly evacuated Lodz without the loss of a single man.
+The Germans allege that they captured it after strenuous fighting.</p>
+
+<center>
+"And how can man lie better<br />
+Than facing fearful Lodz?"<br />
+</center><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</a></span>
+
+<h2>BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND MORNING.</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>[Lines for <i>King Albert's Book</i>, published to-day for the benefit of
+<i>The Daily Telegraph's</i> Belgian Relief Fund.]</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">You that have faith to look with fearless eyes</p>
+<p class="i2">Beyond the tragedy of a world at strife,</p>
+<p class="i0">And trust that out of night and death shall rise</p>
+<p class="i8">The dawn of ampler life;</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Rejoice, whatever anguish rend your heart,</p>
+<p class="i2">That God has given you, for a priceless dower,</p>
+<p class="i0">To live in these great times and have your part</p>
+<p class="i8">In Freedom's crowning hour.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">That you may tell your sons who see the light</p>
+<p class="i2">High in the heaven, their heritage to take:&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">"I saw the powers of darkness put to flight.</p>
+<p class="i8">I saw the morning break!"</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="author">O. S.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>FINANCIAL STRATEGY.</h2>
+
+<p>In some respects one is no doubt compelled to admire the foresight of
+those gentlemen who are writing the History of the War while it is in
+progress, but as Mabel (my wife and very able colleague) justly
+observes, no History of the War, however copious or however fully
+illustrated, can be considered complete without a few salient details of
+the campaign by which The Snookeries (our domestic stronghold in
+Tooting) was saved from the fate of Belgium.</p>
+
+<p>That omission I propose to remedy. Peace hath her strategy no less than
+War.</p>
+
+<p>For some time prior to the Declaration of War it was evident that the
+butcher, the baker, and other foes of our domestic happiness were
+gathering for an onslaught. The attitude of the butcher was particularly
+uncompromising: I do not hesitate to describe it as distinctly Hun-ish.
+Diplomacy gave little hope of preserving peace, so that I was not
+altogether surprised when the war opened with a heavy bombardment. A
+brigade of small accounts advanced in skirmishing order, but were
+disposed of without trouble.</p>
+
+<p>Mabel suggested a temporary withdrawal to the sand-dunes of
+Mudville-on-Sea, but I pointed out that this meant sacrificing part of
+our scanty store of ammunition and had the further disadvantage of
+cutting us off from our base of supplies in the City, to say nothing of
+losing touch with Uncle Robert, who has so often proved a staunch ally
+in a crisis.</p>
+
+<p>We therefore resolved to entrench ourselves behind the Moratorium and
+prepared for a stubborn resistance. From this strong position we were
+able to sustain without loss a brisk fire of explosive missives which
+continued unchecked for some weeks. Speaking quite candidly, and
+dropping the language of the Press Bureau for the moment, there has
+never been a time when the postman's rat-tat has occasioned me less
+emotion.</p>
+
+<p>The defences of the Moratorium did not save us from sundry annoying
+raids upon our supplies, the butcher being peculiarly active in this
+kind of warfare. I repeat, the butcher is a true Hun and must be sternly
+dealt with after the Peace. I was forced to silence him temporarily with
+a few shots from my new one-pounders.</p>
+
+<p>I would like to say what a valuable weapon the one-pounder has proved in
+this campaign. It is wonderfully mobile and saves the waste of heavier
+ammunition. My only regret is that we were not armed with more of them.</p>
+
+<p>Towards the end of August the rate-man and the gas-man mounted heavy
+ordnance upon official heights. They got our range to a nicety and
+threatened us in flank. I despatched Mabel at once to Uncle Robert, and
+with his assistance we were enabled to silence the enemy's howitzers,
+not, however, before the rate-man&mdash;a remorseless and persistent foe&mdash;had
+landed a "sheriff's officer" (as we jocularly term his missiles) into
+our dining-room. Little material damage was done, but for some days the
+effect upon the <i>moral</i> of our forces was apparent.</p>
+
+<p>I must not forget to speak of Mabel's brilliant victory over the
+milkman, whose attack she frustrated by a threat to open negotiations
+for obtaining supplies from his hated rival. When these troubles are
+happily over I must certainly see that Mabel receives a decoration.</p>
+
+<p>Towards the end of October our entrenchments behind the Moratorium
+became untenable, but by that time we had received substantial
+reinforcements and were easily able to hold our own against the enemy's
+reckless frontal attacks. The landlord suddenly unmasked a very strong
+battery which created some consternation. He himself appeared in force,
+but, thanks to the vigilance of my outposts, I was enabled to make a
+strategic retirement by the back-garden gate, leaving Mabel to foil the
+enemy by a <i>ruse-de-guerre</i>. (Dear Mabel is wonderfully clever at these
+things.) I succeeded in regaining my position under cover of darkness.</p>
+
+<p>The attacks of the landlord were renewed with such vigour that I called
+a council of war to discuss the situation. Retreat being out of the
+question, Mabel suggested a levy of our last reserves, and the charwoman
+(who is a discreet person of considerable experience in such matters)
+was mobilised. In this way we secured a sufficient force to rout the
+landlord on his next appearance.</p>
+
+<p>The last few days have been comparatively quiet. Mabel's dressmaker and
+my tailor have reaffirmed their neutrality, and we have promise of
+further support, if needed, from Uncle Robert. Thus, although the enemy
+appear to contemplate a new attack in the future, we are full of
+confidence.</p>
+
+<p>In conclusion, I must not forget to refer to the very able way in which
+Mabel out-man&oelig;uvred the coal-man. Before he could unlimber, she had
+deftly poured in a rapid fire of sympathy for the slackness of trade
+from which she <i>knew</i> he must be suffering, and followed this up by an
+order for two tons of the best Wallsend.</p>
+
+<p>I think I am justified in advancing the theory that there are no flies
+on dear Mabel.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>OFF THE FALKLANDS, DECEMBER 8TH.</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>[<i>To an old nautical air, with Mr. Punch's loud congratulations to
+Vice-Admiral Sir <span class="smcap">Doveton Sturdee</span> and his brave sailors</i>.]</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i2">Hardened steel are our ships;</p>
+<p class="i4">Gallant tars are our men;</p>
+<p class="i6">We never are wordy</p>
+<p class="i6">(<span class="smcap">Sturdee</span>, boys, <span class="smcap">Sturdee</span>!),</p>
+<p class="i0">But quietly conquer again and again.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>FOR THE CHILDREN.</h2>
+
+<p>The Hon. Treasurer of the Hospital for Sick Children, Great Ormond
+Street (where many Belgian children are being cared for) desires to
+express his sincere thanks to <i>Mr. Punch's</i> readers for their generous
+response to the appeal for help which was recently made in these pages.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/491.png">
+<img src="images/491.png" width="100%" alt="THE SINEWS OF WAR." /></a>
+<h4>THE SINEWS OF WAR.</h4>
+<p><span class="smcap">Private Atkins</span>. "FOR WHAT WE HAVE RECEIVED&mdash;AND ARE GOING TO
+RECEIVE&mdash;HERE'S TO THE A.S.C."</p>
+</div>
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</a></span>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/493.png">
+<img src="images/493.png" width="100%" alt="Child" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><i>Child</i> (<i>much impressed by martial emblems opposite</i>). "<span class="smcap">Mother, is that
+a soldier</span>?"</p>
+<p><i>Mother.</i> "<span class="smcap">No, darling</span>."</p>
+<p><i>Child</i>. "<span class="smcap">Why not</span>?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>UNWRITTEN LETTERS TO THE KAISER.</h2>
+
+<center>No. X.</center>
+
+<p>(<i>From Mrs. <span class="smcap">James Prosser</span>, 25, Paradise Road, Brixton</i>.)</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Kaiser</span>,&mdash;Jim's gone. I don't know if you'll like to hear it, him being a
+good fighter. I'd warrant him to take the shine out of any two Germans I
+ever met. They're big men, the Germans, but they mostly run to fat after
+their <i>premmer jewness</i>, as the Belgian lady over the way said last week
+when we was a-talking about 'em. I don't know what she meant, but she
+didn't look as if it was anything in the way of a compliment. That's why
+I've wrote it down here.</p>
+
+<p>Anyhow, Jim's gone. I saw him off with a lot of others, and they was all
+singing and shouting as loud as their lungs would let 'em&mdash;not drink,
+mind you, so don't you run away with that notion, but just high spirits
+and health and happiness. First it was "Tipperary," and that made me
+feel so mournful I had to give Jim a good old hug, and the little un
+pulling at my dress all the time and calling out, "Let me have a go at
+him, Mother," and "Don't give 'em all to Mother, Dad; keep half-a-dozen
+for me," just as sensible as a Christian, which is more than you can say
+of some. His name's Henery, the full name, not Henry, and we had him
+christened so, to make sure. He's going on for five years now, and he's
+got a leg and a chest on him to suit twice his years. I'm not saying
+that because I'm his mother, but because it's the truth. After they'd
+sung "Tipperary" they sang a lot of other songs. There was one in
+particklar that I liked, it had such a go with it. Jim told me it was
+made up by one of their own men, music and all. I misremember most of
+it, but there was two lines stuck in my head:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">General <span class="smcap">French</span> is a regular blazer,</p>
+<p class="i0">He's going to dust the German <span class="smcap">Kaiser</span>.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>There was a lot more about theirselves and their officers and their
+colonel, who was second to none and was making tracks for the German
+Hun, all as funny and clever as you could make it. I couldn't help
+laughing to see 'em all so jolly. Then the engine give a whistle and the
+guard said, "Stand back," and waved his green flag, and the train moved
+out, and the men cheered and we cheered back, and at last they was gone,
+and the little un was saying, "Don't mind me, mother. Have a good cry
+and get it over;" and then we went home, and he kept talking all the way
+of what he's going to do when he grows up to be a soldier himself.</p>
+
+<p>Well, Jim's gone, but I wouldn't have had him stay at home not for ever
+so much. He was earning good money, too, in his job, but that's going to
+be kept open for him so as he can drop into it again when he comes back.
+And I'm going to keep his home open for him so as he can drop into that
+when he comes back; there's enough money coming in to make certain of
+that, what with allowances and my work. Mind you, I <i>like</i> to work; it
+keeps you from thinking too much, and me and the little un manage
+splendid together. He helps about the house better nor half-a-dozen
+housemaids, and he's so managing it would make you die of laughing to
+see him. The only trouble is he can't bear going to bed; but I tell him
+if he don't the <span class="smcap">Kaiser</span>'ll catch him, and then he's off with his clothes
+and into his cot like a flash of lightning.</p>
+
+<p>There, I've talked about myself and the little un and all the time I
+meant to tell you about Jim. However, you'll know him right enough if
+ever you come up against him. He's a handsome man with black hair and no
+moustache, and he's got a scar over his right eye where he tumbled
+against the fender when he was four years old.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">
+Yours without love,</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Sarah Prosser</span>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%">
+<a href="images/494.png">
+<img src="images/494.png" width="100%" alt="Genial Pedestrian" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><i>Genial Pedestrian.</i> "<span class="smcap">A bright moon to-night, constable</span>."<br />
+<i>Morbid P.C.</i> "<span class="smcap">Yes, Sir. Let's 'ope it don't draw the fire of 'ostile
+air-craft</span>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE WATCH DOGS.</h2>
+
+<center>IX.</center>
+
+<p>Dear Charles,&mdash;As the men, for reasons best known to themselves, will
+suddenly chant on the march&mdash;"We're here because we're here, because
+we're here, because we're here," goodness knows when (if ever) we shall
+get to the Front; so this is yet another letter for you from the Back,
+where we are, much against our will, kept to deal kindly but firmly with
+the German invader as, home-sick and sea-sick, he alights gloomily on
+our shores. If, by the way, I have given hints in this correspondence as
+to the disposition of any part of our troops, it is a comfort to think
+that the artful spy who gets hold of them will have the utmost
+difficulty in making up his mind as to the real or fictitious existence
+of (1) my Division; (2) my Brigade; (3) my Battalion; (4) my Company; or
+even (5) me.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile we are in a very difficult position, such as I believe few
+soldiers have ever been called upon to face. You will remember how, four
+months ago, we collected ourselves together in accordance with our
+long-standing engagement to protect these islands against the foreign
+trespasser, the condition of our contract being that our service should
+begin (as charity should) and end (as charity often does) at home. In
+the bad old days when I was at the Bar I should of course have known
+that contracts are apt to turn round on those who make them; but now I
+am only a plain soldier and I am unable to understand why I should be
+made to stay at home when I desire to go and make a nuisance of myself
+abroad. But the real trouble comes from this, that some six weeks ago I
+received written and explicit orders to the effect that I was to sail
+forthwith.</p>
+
+<p>Suppose this had happened to you and you had been given special leave of
+forty-eight hours to make all necessary preparations, would not you have
+gone where your more impressionable acquaintances and friends were
+gathered together in the greatest numbers, informing them of the
+position and doing, on the strength of it, a quiet but irretrievable
+swank? No ostentation, mark you, and nothing approaching a boast, but
+just a suspicion of a brave careless laugh, a voice just slightly choked
+with emotion and but a formal reluctance to accept the numerous and
+costly gifts proffered by relatives who at less emotional times would
+have grudged you a Christmas card?</p>
+
+<p>We did. We went home and were made a fuss of; we took our leave and nice
+things were said to us, tears welled, and hands, peculiarly firm or
+peculiarly tender as the case might be, held ours for rather longer than
+the customary period. With a brave "Pooh! Pooh! It doesn't matter in the
+least," we went off at last, off amid deafening cheers to the unknown
+future....</p>
+
+<p>The following week-end we were home again as before, but, since the joy
+of a temporary reprieve may outweigh even the annoyance of an
+anticlimax, they were pleased to see us and gave us another farewell
+only slightly less emotional than the last. But on the third of this
+series of week-ends a note of insincerity crept into the "Goodbye, old
+man," and the hand-pressure was slightly curtailed.</p>
+
+<p>Alas! there have been even more week-ends since that. I trust it is only
+our self-consciousness makes us think that we are looked upon as frauds,
+who have obtained by false pretences the field-glasses, electric
+torches, knitted wares, tears, hand-clasps and choicest superlatives of
+our friends. It becomes worse as time passes; we do not go home now, and
+we would even refrain from writing if we could hope by that means to
+have our whereabouts unknown and our existence doubtful. If the
+authorities won't part with us, they might at least give us an address
+which would make it look as if they had&mdash;something like "Capt. Blank,
+Blankth Blank Regt., Blankth Fighting Force, c/o G.P.O." What will
+happen is that we shall go suddenly and without time to explain, and,
+when our friends are told, their faces will cloud over, not with sorrow
+at our departure but with annoyance at being pestered with the news of
+it again. It is a hard life, is a soldier's!</p>
+
+<p>One bold bad private informed our most youthful orderly officer, upon
+being asked if he had had a sufficient breakfast: "Yes, thank you, Sir:
+a glass of water and a woodbine;" otherwise personal idiosyncracies
+become less marked, since individualities become merged in the corporate
+machine. The battalion is cross as a whole, nervy as a whole, laughs as
+a whole, almost sneezes or has indigestion as a whole. Recalling the
+good old days of annual camps, when energy used to be rewarded with free
+beer rather than demanded as a matter of course, the battalion as often
+as not sings as a whole while route-marching at ease past the C.O.:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"Nobody knows how dry we are,</p>
+<p class="i0">Nobody knows how dry we are,</p>
+<p class="i0">Nobody knows how dry we are,</p>
+<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">And nobody seems to care</span>."</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>While the conduct of all of us becomes every day more disciplined, our
+speech, I have to report with regret, becomes more loose. Emphasis is an
+essential of military life, and it must be such emphasis as the least
+intelligent may readily appreciate. Sometimes I tremble to think in what
+terms I may inadvertently ask some gentle soul later on in life to pass
+the marmalade, or with what expletives I may comment upon some little
+defect in domestic life. My literary friend, John, has shamelessly
+compiled a short phrase-book for our use abroad, reproducing our present
+regrettable idioms. One inquiry, to be addressed to the local peasant by
+the leading officer, runs thus:&mdash;"Can you tell me, Sir, where the enemy
+is at present to be found?"&mdash;"<i>O&ugrave; sont les Boches sanguinaires?</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The other point of view as to going to the Front was put last Sunday
+with unconscious aptness. At breakfast we had read aloud to us a letter
+written with inspiring realism by a Watch Dog who is actually there and
+seeing life in all its detail in the trenches. Having listened to it
+with rapt attention, we then marched to church and (actually) sang with
+unanimous fervour:-</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"The trivial round, the common task</p>
+<p class="i0">Will furnish all we need to ask...."</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Nevertheless more to be feared than the enraged German is the sceptical
+scornful Aunt of</p>
+
+<p class="regards">Yours ever,</p>
+<p class="author">Henry.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/495.png">
+<img src="images/495.png" width="100%" alt="AT A MILITARY WEDDING" /></a>
+<h4>AT A MILITARY WEDDING.</h4>
+<p><i>Usher</i> (<i>to Uninvited Guest</i>). <span class="smcap">"Bride's friends to the right;
+Bridegroom's to the left."</span></p>
+<p><i>Uninvited Guest.</i> <span class="smcap">"I'm afraid I'm a neutral."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>"Washington, Saturday.&mdash;The American Ambassador at Constantinople
+reports that Turkey has acquiesced in the departure of several
+Canadian missionaries, whose safe conduct was requested by Sir Cecil
+Spring-Rice, the British Ambassador here."</p></blockquote>
+<p class="author"><i>People.</i></p>
+
+<p>This is headed "Millionaires Released," and shows how well the clergy
+are paid in Canada.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>LITTLE BROTHER.</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>The Indian Jackal.</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Panther, tiger, wolf and bear,</p>
+<p class="i2">They live where the hills are high,</p>
+<p class="i0">Where the eagle swings in the upper air</p>
+<p class="i2">And the gay dacoit is nigh;</p>
+<p class="i0">But we live down in the delta lands,</p>
+<p class="i2">A decenter place to be&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">The frogs and the bats and Little Brother,</p>
+<p class="i2">The pariah dogs and me.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">He was a Rajah once on a time</p>
+<p class="i2">Who is Little Brother now;</p>
+<p class="i0">And I know it is all for monstrous crime</p>
+<p class="i2">Or shamefully broken vow</p>
+<p class="i0">That he slinks in the dust and eats alone</p>
+<p class="i2">With a pious tongue and free;</p>
+<p class="i0">For a holy man is Little Brother,</p>
+<p class="i2">As beggars ought to be.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">But whether he lurks in the morning light</p>
+<p class="i2">Where the tall plantations grow,</p>
+<p class="i0">Or wanders the village fields by nights</p>
+<p class="i2">Telling of ancient woe;</p>
+<p class="i0">Or whether he's making a sporting run</p>
+<p class="i2">For me and a dog or two,</p>
+<p class="i0">An uncanny beast is Little Brother</p>
+<p class="i2">For Christian eyes to view.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">For there comes an hour at the full o' the moon</p>
+<p class="i2">When the Boh-tree blossoms fall,</p>
+<p class="i0">And a devil comes out of the afternoon</p>
+<p class="i2">And has him a night in thrall;</p>
+<p class="i0">And he hunts till dawn like a questing hound</p>
+<p class="i2">For souls that have lost their way;</p>
+<p class="i0">And it's well to be clear of Little Brother</p>
+<p class="i2">Till the good gods bring the day.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Wherefore I think I will end my song</p>
+<p class="i2">Wishing him fair good night,</p>
+<p class="i0">For Little Brother's got something wrong</p>
+<p class="i2">That'll never on earth come right;</p>
+<p class="i0">And this perhaps is the honest truth,</p>
+<p class="i2">And the wisest folk agree,</p>
+<p class="i0">The less I know about Little Brother</p>
+<p class="i2">The better by far for me.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</a></span>
+
+<h2>HOME THOUGHTS FROM THE TRENCHES.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Old mother mine, at times I find</p>
+<p class="i4">Pauses when fighting's done</p>
+<p class="i0">That make me lonesome and inclined</p>
+<p class="i0">To think of those I left behind&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i4">And most of all of one.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">At home you're knitting woolly things&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i4">They're meant for me for choice;</p>
+<p class="i0">There's rain outside, the kettle sings</p>
+<p class="i0">In sobs and frolics till it brings</p>
+<p class="i4">Whispers that seem a voice.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Cheer up! I'm calling, far away;</p>
+<p class="i4">And, wireless, you can hear.</p>
+<p class="i0">Cheer up! you know you'd have me stay</p>
+<p class="i0">And keep on trying day by day;</p>
+<p class="i4">We're winning, never fear.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Although to have me back's your prayer&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i4">I'm willing it should be&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">You'd never breathe a word to spare</p>
+<p class="i0">Yourself, and stop me playing fair;</p>
+<p class="i4">You're braver far than me.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">So let your dear face twist a smile</p>
+<p class="i4">The way it used to do;</p>
+<p class="i0">And keep on cheery all the while,</p>
+<p class="i0">Rememb'ring hating's not your style&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i4">Germans have mothers too.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">And when the work is through, and when</p>
+<p class="i4">I'm coming home to find</p>
+<p class="i0">The one who sent me out, ah! then</p>
+<p class="i0">I'll make you (bless you) laugh again,</p>
+<p class="i4">Old sweetheart left behind.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>HIGH JINKS AT HAPPY-THOUGHT HALL.</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>[<i>An inevitable article in any decent magazine at this time of the
+year. Read it carefully, and then have an uproarious time in your
+own little house.</i>]</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>It was a merry party assembled at Happy-Thought Hall for Christmas. The
+Squire liked company, and the friends whom he had asked down for the
+festive season had all stayed at Happy-Thought Hall before, and were
+therefore well acquainted with each other. No wonder, then, that the wit
+flowed fast and furious, and that the guests all agreed afterwards that
+they had never spent such a jolly Christmas, and that the best of all
+possible hosts was Squire Tregarthen!</p>
+
+<p>But first we must introduce some of the Squire's guests to our readers.
+The Reverend Arthur Manley, a clever young clergyman with a taste for
+gardening, was talking in one corner to Miss Phipps, a pretty girl of
+some twenty summers. Captain Bolsover, a smart cavalry officer, together
+with Professor and Mrs. Smith-Smythe from Oxford, formed a small party
+in another corner. Handsome Jack Ellison was, as usual, in deep
+conversation with the beautiful Miss Holden, who, it was agreed among
+the ladies of the party, was not altogether indifferent to his fine
+figure and remarkable prospects. There were other guests, but as they
+chiefly played the part of audience in the events which followed their
+names will not be of any special interest to our readers. Suffice it to
+say that they were all intelligent, well-dressed and ready for any sort
+of fun.</p>
+
+<p>(Now, thank heaven, we can begin.)</p>
+
+<p>A burst of laughter from Captain Bolsover attracted general attention,
+and everybody turned in his direction.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, Professor, that's good," he said, as he slapped his knee; "you
+must tell the others that."</p>
+
+<p>"It was just a little incident that happened to me to-day as I was
+coming down here," said the Professor, as he beamed round on the
+company. "I happened to be rather late for my train, and as I bought my
+ticket I asked the clerk what time it was. He replied, 'If it takes six
+seconds for a clock to strike six, how long will it take to strike
+twelve?' I said twelve seconds, but it seems I was wrong."</p>
+
+<p>The others all said twelve seconds too, but they were all wrong. Can
+<i>you</i> guess the right answer?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/496a.png">
+<img src="images/496a.png" width="100%" alt="To illustrate the Professor&#39;s" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 1.&mdash;<span class="smcap">To illustrate the Professor's delightful story
+of the booking-clerk's answer.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>When the laughter had died down, the Reverend Arthur Manley said:</p>
+
+<p>"That reminds me of an amusing experience which occurred to my
+housekeeper last Friday. She was ordering a little fish for my lunch,
+and the fishmonger, when asked the price of herrings, replied, 'Three
+ha'pence for one and a-half,' to which my housekeeper said, 'Then I will
+have twelve.' How much did she pay?" He smiled happily at the company.</p>
+
+<p>"One-and-sixpence, of course," said Miss Phipps.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no; ninepence," cried the Squire with a hearty laugh.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Bolsover made it come to &pound;1 3<i>s.</i> 2½<i>d.</i>, and the Professor
+thought fourpence. But once again they were all wrong. What do <i>you</i>
+make it come to?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/496b.png">
+<img src="images/496b.png" width="100%" alt="It was now Captain Bolsover&#39;s turn" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig.</span> 2.&mdash;<span class="smcap">To illustrate the Curate's ingenious problem of
+the Fishmonger.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was now Captain Bolsover's turn for an amusing puzzle, and the others
+turned eagerly towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"What was that one about a door?" said the Squire. "You were telling me
+when we were out shooting yesterday, Bolsover."</p>
+
+<p>Captain Bolsover looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, no, it was young Reggie Worlock," said the Squire with a hearty
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do tell us, Squire," said everybody.</p>
+
+<p>"It was just a little riddle, my dear," said the Squire to Miss Phipps,
+always a favourite of his. "When is a door not a door?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Phipps said when it was a cucumber; but she was wrong. So were the
+others. See if <i>you</i> can be more successful.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's very good," said Captain Bolsover; "it reminds me of
+something which occurred during the Boer War."</p>
+
+<p>Everybody listened eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"We were just going into action, and I happened to turn round to my men,
+and say, 'Now, then, boys, give 'em beans!' To my amusement one of them
+replied smartly, 'How many blue beans make five?' We were all so
+interested working it out that we never got into action at all."</p>
+
+<p>"But that's easy," said the Professor. "Five."</p>
+
+<p>"Four," said Miss Phipps. (She would. Silly kid.)</p>
+
+<p>"Six," said the Squire.</p>
+
+<p>Which was right?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/496c.png">
+<img src="images/496c.png" width="100%" alt="To illustrate the Captain&#39;s thrilling story" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig. 3.&mdash;To illustrate the Captain's thrilling story of
+the Boer War.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Jack Ellison had been silent during the laughter and jollity, always
+such a feature of Happy-Thought Hall at Christmas time, but now he
+contributed an ingenious puzzle to the amusement of the company.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[Pg 497]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I met a man in a motor-'bus," he said in a quiet voice, "who told me
+that he had four sons. The eldest son, Abraham, had a dog who used to go
+and visit the three brothers occasionally. The dog, my informant told
+me, was very unwilling to go over the same ground twice, and yet being
+in a hurry wished to take the shortest journey possible. How did he
+manage it?"</p>
+
+<p>For a little while the company was puzzled. Then, after deep thought,
+the Professor said:</p>
+
+<p>"It depends on where they lived."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Ellison. "I forgot to say that my acquaintance drew me a
+map." He produced a paper from his pocket. "Here it is."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/497a.png">
+<img src="images/497a.png" width="100%" alt="To illustrate the journey of the sagacious
+hound" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig</span>. 4.&mdash;<span class="smcap">To illustrate the journey of the sagacious
+hound</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The others immediately began to puzzle over the answer, Miss Phipps
+being unusually foolish, even for her. It was some time before they
+discovered the correct route. What do <i>you</i> think it is?</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said the Squire, with a hearty laugh, "it's time for bed."</p>
+
+<p>One by one they filed off, saying what a delightful evening they had
+had. Jack Ellison was particularly emphatic, for the beautiful Miss
+Holden had promised to be his wife. He, for one, will never forget
+Christmas at Happy-Thought Hall.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>[<span class="smcap">Note</span>.&mdash;The originals of the drawings are on sale from the Author at
+five guineas apiece.]</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="author">A. A. M.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/497.png">
+<img src="images/497.png" width="100%" alt="Little Tomkins" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><i>Little Tomkins</i> (<i>to Herculean Coalheaver</i>). "<span class="smcap">Why don't
+you come up the green a couple o' nights a week an' do a bit o' shootin'
+an' drillin'? You'd get as fit as a fiddle</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>STABLE INFORMATION.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Last winter I wasn't familiar with Brown,</p>
+<p class="i2">Our intercourse didn't extend</p>
+<p class="i0">Past a grunt if we met on the journey to town</p>
+<p class="i2">And a nod when I chose to unbend;</p>
+<p class="i0">But times are <i>mutata</i>, and now I've begun</p>
+<p class="i2">To cultivate Brown more and more,</p>
+<p class="i0">For Brown has a son who is friends with the son</p>
+<p class="i2">Of a man at the Office of War.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">When a fog is concealing how matters progress</p>
+<p class="i2">And editors wearily use</p>
+<p class="i0">(Upholding the goodly repute of the Press)</p>
+<p class="i2">A headline from yesterday's news,</p>
+<p class="i0">Brown's knowledge enables his friends to decide</p>
+<p class="i2">What the future is holding in store,</p>
+<p class="i0">For we gather that <span class="smcap">Kitchener</span> <i>loves</i> to confide</p>
+<p class="i2">In that man at the Office of War.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">And I in my turn spread the tidings about;</p>
+<p class="i2">To the heart that is apt to be glum</p>
+<p class="i0">And the spirit that suffers severely from doubt</p>
+<p class="i2">Like a sunbeam in winter I come;</p>
+<p class="i0">"The Teuton," I whisper, "will suffer eclipse</p>
+<p class="i2">In the course of a fortnight&mdash;no more;</p>
+<p class="i0">I have had it&mdash;well, almost direct from the lips</p>
+<p class="i2">Of the Chief of the Office of War."</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[Pg 498]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/498.png">
+<img src="images/498.png" width="100%" alt="UNRECORDED EVENTS" /></a>
+<h4>UNRECORDED EVENTS IN THE HISTORY OF THE WAR.</h4>
+<p><span class="smcap">German soldiers being roused to enthusiasm by the "Hymn of Hate."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>MAILS FOR A MAILED FIST.</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>[The rumours of an invasion of this country, which have been
+prevalent during the last few days, are presumably responsible for
+these letters addressed to the Kaiser, which have been intercepted.]</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Northsea Cove, Suffolk.</i></p>
+
+<p>Kind Sir,&mdash;Should your troops land in this neighbourhood, would you
+please ask them not to fire off guns between 3 and 4 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>, as during
+that hour I have my afternoon rest, and I do not sleep very well.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">Yours truly,</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Wilhelmina Timmins.</span></p>
+
+<p>Sir,&mdash;Hearing that you are thinking of sending over an army, we have
+formed a small Reception Committee to provide for its comfort, and
+knowing how concerned you are for the welfare of your troops we think
+you will be glad to learn that complete arrangements have been made for
+conveying them to, and accommodating them at, a salubrious spot called
+Tipperary, immediately on their arrival.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">(Signed)</p>
+<p class="author">J. PUSHER, <i>Secretary</i>,<br />
+Eastern and Home Counties Resorts Association.</p>
+
+<p>Professor Burgess-Brown, the well-known swimming expert, presents his
+compliments. He would be pleased to call at Kiel Harbour (or other
+appointed place) in order to teach the art of natation to German
+soldiers who may, after arrival in England, suddenly find themselves
+deprived of their troopships when wishing to return.</p>
+
+<p>Dear Sir,&mdash;We hear that a number of your friends are coming to England,
+and shall accordingly welcome an enquiry for our advice, which is always
+at the disposal of the travelling public. We do not know whether you
+propose personally to come over, but we should certainly recommend this
+course, as by travelling <i>vi&aacute;</i> an English port you could get a boat
+<i>direct</i> to St. Helena and thus save the wearisome changing to which you
+might be exposed in sailing from the Continent.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">Yours obediently,</p>
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">The World's Tours, Limited.</span></p><br />
+
+<p class="author"><i>Headquarters, Poppy Patrol Boy Scouts, Cliffe, Norfolk.</i></p>
+
+<p>Dear Sir,&mdash;I don't think there is much use in your troops landing. In
+this county alone there are two hundred and ninety-five more scouts than
+there were in August, and they are still coming in. Of course come if
+you like, but don't say I didn't warn you.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">Yours,</p>
+<p class="author">T. Smith,<br />
+Patrol Leader.</p>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Imperial Studios, Yarmouth.</i></p>
+
+<p>Sir,&mdash;Hearing that your troops are thinking of visiting the above town,
+we should be glad to take you, in small or large groups. We understand
+that your excursion will be only a half-day one, but we have facilities
+for the immediate development of negatives.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">Yours obediently,</p>
+<p class="author">George Gelatine Jones.</p>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Warning! To the Kaiser.</span></center><br />
+
+<center><i>From the Huntsman of the Bungay Foxhounds.</i></center>
+
+<p>Send your men over if you like. Let them turn their guns on all our
+ancient buildings, destroy crops, blow up bridges; but <span class="smcap">MIND</span>, if one of
+your Huns raises a rifle to any Norfolk or Suffolk fox, there will be
+trouble of a serious kind.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/499.png">
+<img src="images/499.png" width="100%" alt="KILLED" /></a>
+<h4>KILLED!</h4>
+<p>[With <i>Mr. Punch's</i> compliments to General <span class="smcap">Botha</span>.]</p>
+</div>
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[Pg 500]</a></span>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[Pg 501]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/501.png">
+<img src="images/501.png" width="100%" alt="Old Lady" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />
+<p><i>Old Lady</i> (<i>to District Visitor</i>). "<span class="smcap">Did you hear a
+strange noise this morning, Miss, at about four o'clock? I thought it
+was one of them aireoplanes; and my neighbour was so sure it was one he
+went down and let his dog loose</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>MINOR WAR GAINS.</h2>
+
+<div class="centered">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The year that is stormily ending</p>
+<p class="i2">Has brought us full measure of grief,</p>
+<p class="i0">And yet we must thank it for sending</p>
+<p class="i2">At times unexpected relief;</p>
+<p class="i0">These boons are not felt in the trenches</p>
+<p class="i2">Or make our home burdens less hard;</p>
+<p class="i0">They're not a bonanza, but merit a stanza</p>
+<p class="i2">Or two from the doggerel bard.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The names of musicians and mummers</p>
+<p class="i2">No longer are loud on our lips;</p>
+<p class="i0">By the side of our buglers and drummers</p>
+<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Caruso</span> endures an eclipse;</p>
+<p class="i0">And the legions of freaks and of faddists</p>
+<p class="i2">Who hailed him with rapturous awe,</p>
+<p class="i0">O wonder of wonders, are finding out blunders,</p>
+<p class="i2">And worse, in the writings of SHAW!</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Good <span class="smcap">Begbie</span>, no longer upraising</p>
+<p class="i2">His plea for the "uplift" of Hodge,</p>
+<p class="i0">Has ceased for a season from praising</p>
+<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Lloyd George</span> and Sir <span class="smcap">Oliver Lodge</span>;</p>
+<p class="i0">And there hasn't been much in the papers</p>
+<p class="i2">About the next novel from <span class="smcap">Caine</span></p>
+<p class="i0">(No doubt he's in Flanders, the guest of commanders</p>
+<p class="i2">Who reverence infinite brain).</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">John Ward</span> has forgiven the Curragh</p>
+<p class="i2">(The Curragh's forgotten <span class="smcap">John Ward</span>);</p>
+<p class="i0">No longer he cries "Wurra Wurra!"</p>
+<p class="i2">At sight of an officer's sword;</p>
+<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">MacDonald</span>, the terror of tigers,</p>
+<p class="i2">Sits silent and meek as a mouse,</p>
+<p class="i0">And the great <span class="smcap">von Keirhardi</span> is curiously tardy</p>
+<p class="i2">In "voicing" his spleen in the House.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The screeds of professors and jurists</p>
+<p class="i2">Have quite disappeared from the Press;</p>
+<p class="i0">'Tis little we hear of Futurists,</p>
+<p class="i2">And frankly we care even less;</p>
+<p class="i0">Why, <span class="smcap">Trevelyan</span>, the martyr to candour,</p>
+<p class="i2">Who lately his office resigned,</p>
+<p class="i0">Though waters were heaving has sunk without leaving</p>
+<p class="i2">The tiniest ripple behind.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">In fine, though there fall to our fighters</p>
+<p class="i2">Too many hard buffets and humps,</p>
+<p class="i0">'Tis a comfort to think that our blighters</p>
+<p class="i2">Are down in the deadliest dumps;</p>
+<p class="i0">And whatever the future may bring us</p>
+<p class="i2">In profits or pleasures or pains</p>
+<p class="i0">The ill wind that's blowing to-day is bestowing</p>
+<p class="i2">A number of negative gains.</p>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE IDEAL CHRISTMAS CARD.</h2>
+
+<p>"Are we sending Christmas cards this year? Yes," said Blathers, "but not
+next year, or the year after that, as we shall be retrenching. They are
+quite modest trifles, yet at the mere sight of the envelope each
+recipient will, cheerfully, I hope, pay twopence towards the sinews of
+war. One hundred of these contributions will amount, I am told, to
+sixteen shillings and eightpence; not much, but it is my little offering
+to the country in her hour of need. This is the card I propose to send
+out in a sealed and unstamped cover":&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Mr. and Mrs. Blathers wish you A Happy Christmas 1914, 1915 and
+1916, and A Bright New Year 1915, 1916 and 1917. </span></p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="author"><i>The Ferns, Tooting.</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>"The Russian mining engineers who have been sent to Galicia since
+the occupation report that the oil districts will suffice to supply
+the whole of South-Western Russia. The working of the fields will
+start in the spring; moreover salt and iron abound, also
+sporadicalli, silver, copper, lead and the rarer metals."</p></blockquote>
+<p class="author"><i>Cork Examiner.</i>
+</p>
+
+<p>For vermicelli, however, it will still be necessary to go to Italy.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[Pg 502]</a></span>
+
+<h2>OUR NATIONAL GUESTS.</h2>
+
+<center>III.</center>
+
+<p>To the list of things that the Belgians in Crashie Howe do not
+understand, along with oatmeal, honey in the comb, and tapioca, must now
+be added the Scottish climate. They do not complain, but they are
+puzzled, and after sixty-five consecutive hours of rain they wonder
+wistfully if it is always like this. We simply dare not tell them the
+truth.</p>
+
+<p>By every post we are busy hunting for lost relatives who are scattered
+before the shattering fist of the <span class="smcap">Kaiser</span> over Great Britain, Belgium,
+Holland and France. We have not been very successful so far, but one or
+two we have found, at points as far apart as York and Milford Haven,
+and, best of all, we have unearthed a great-grandmother, last seen in an
+open coal boat off Ostend, who is now in comfortable quarters in a
+village in Ayrshire.</p>
+
+<p>Our language difficulties have not been assisted by the arrival of a
+family from Antwerp who talk nothing but Walloon, but, on the other
+hand, the progress of the children is now beginning to afford certain
+frail lines of communication. The least of them, &Eacute;lise, can already
+count up to twenty in English (with a strong Scoto-Flemish accent), and
+so it came about that when I took my little nieces round to pay calls,
+relations were at once established on a numerical basis.</p>
+
+<p>"One, two, three," said Sheila, holding out her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Four," retorted Juliette, gurgling with delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Five, six, seven," shouted Betty.</p>
+
+<p>"Eight, nine?" enquired Juliette....</p>
+
+<p>At the next cottage, where we were all rather shy, we began tentatively
+with "One?" But we finally gained so much confidence that by the time we
+reached our last visit we ran it up to ten at a single burst, and were
+consequently received with open arms.</p>
+
+<p>One of our main concerns has been the Santa Claus question, and that is
+a matter which touches us closely, as we have among our number eleven
+children of Santa Claus age. There are a good many pitfalls here, and it
+is now unfortunately too late to warn other people of the chief of them.
+For the fact is&mdash;as we found to our amazement&mdash;that Santa Claus (you
+must, by the way, call him St. Nicholas; after all, it is his proper
+name) comes to Belgium and Russia, not on December 25th, but on December
+6th. All our attempts to explain this phenomenon by the difference in
+the Russian calendar, though ingenious, have failed; it doesn't work out
+at all. Still, for some reason, that is how it is, and we cannot but be
+grateful to St. Nicholas for this delicate attention to our allies, by
+which no doubt they get the pick of the toys, even though we were nearly
+let in by him. Indeed Pierre had practically given up hope. He had told
+his mother that he was afraid St. Nicholas would never find his way to
+Scotland, it was too far.</p>
+
+<p>Then there is another thing which might easily have been overlooked.
+It's no use putting out stockings, as we prefer to do in our insular
+way; one must put out <i>shoes</i>. At first sight it looks as if we in this
+country have the pull over our allies here, for one pair of little shoes
+does not hold much stuff. But fortunately it is the happy custom in all
+lands to allow of overflow to any extent. And finally St. Nicholas never
+comes down the chimney; he pops in through the window (which should be
+left slightly open at the bottom so that he can get in his thumb and
+prize it up). Also he never drove a reindeer in his life. He rides a
+horse. And this is of the first importance, for the one condition
+attaching to his benevolence is that you must put out a good wisp of hay
+for the horse, along with your shoes, or else he will simply pass on and
+you will get nothing at all.</p>
+
+<p>Having collected and considered all these facts we were fully prepared
+to meet the situation&mdash;even down to the small gingerbread animals which
+always grace the day&mdash;on December 6th, and to deal faithfully with the
+little rows of clogs, bulging with hay, which awaited us on St. Nicholas
+Eve.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/502.png">
+<img src="images/502.png" width="100%" alt="Weary Variety Agent" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><i>Weary Variety Agent.</i> <span class="smcap">"And what's <i>your</i> particular
+claim to originality?"</span></p>
+<p><i>Artiste.</i> <span class="smcap">"I'm the only Comedian who has so far refrained from
+addressing the orchestra as 'you in the trench.'"</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>CHRISTMAS PRESENTS, 1914.</h2>
+
+<p>"It's perfectly simple," said the Reverend Henry, adopting his lofty
+style. "We must cut the whole lot. There is no other course."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't consider that your opinion is of any value whatever," said
+Eileen. "In fact you ought not to be allowed to take part in this
+discussion. Every one knows that you have always tried to get out of
+Christmas presents, and now you are merely using a grave national
+emergency to further your private ends."</p>
+
+<p>The Reverend Henry was squashed; but Mrs. Sidney had a perfect right to
+speak, for she has been without doubt the most persistent and
+painstaking Christmas provider in the family, and has never been known
+to miss a single relation even at the longest range.</p>
+
+<p>"I quite agree with Henry," said she. "This is no time for Christmas
+presents&mdash;except to hospitals and Belgians and men at the Front."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean that you would scratch the whole lot," said I, "even the
+pocket diary for 1915 that I send to Uncle William?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, even that. You can send the diary to Sidney" (who is in Flanders).
+"I have always wanted him to keep a diary."</p>
+
+<p>"What about the children?" said I.</p>
+
+<p>"The children must realise," said the Reverend Henry solemnly, "what it
+means for the nation to be at war."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no," Laura broke in impetuously. "How can they realise? How can you
+expect Kathleen to realise?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know," said the Reverend Henry, "that only last Sunday my niece
+Kathleen was marching all over the house singing at the top of her
+voice, 'It's a long, long way to Tipperary: the Bible tells me so'?
+Obviously she realises."</p>
+
+<p>"But what about&mdash;&mdash;" Eileen was beginning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[Pg 503]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Let's have a scrap of paper," said I, "a contract that we can all sign,
+and then we can put down the exceptions to the rule."</p>
+
+<p>Henry was already hard at work with a sheet of foolscap.</p>
+
+<p>" ... not to exchange, give, receive or swap in celebration of
+Christmas, 1914, any gift, donation, subscription, contribution, grant,
+token or emblem within the family and its connections: and further not
+to permit any gift, donation, subscription, contribution, grant, token
+or emblem to emanate from any member of the family to such as are
+outside."</p>
+
+<p>"Good so far," said I.</p>
+
+<p>"The following recipients to be excepted," Henry went on,</p>
+
+<p>"(1) All Hospitals; (2) Belgians; (3) His Majesty's Forces&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"(4) The Poor and Needy," suggested Eileen.</p>
+
+<p>"(5) The Aged and Infirm," said I. "I only want to get in Great-aunt
+Amelia. She mustn't be allowed to draw a blank."</p>
+
+<p>"That's true," said Henry; "we'll fix the age limit at ninety-one.
+That'll bring her in."</p>
+
+<p>"(6) Children of such tender age that they are unable to realise the
+national emergency," said Mrs. Sidney.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so," said Henry. "What would you suggest as the age limit?
+Three?"</p>
+
+<p>"Four," said Laura simultaneously.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to suggest five," said I, "to bring in Kathleen."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's make it seven," said Mrs. Henry. "I can hardly believe that Peter
+realises, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop a bit," said I. "If you take in Peter you can't possibly leave out
+Tom. Make it eight-and-a-half."</p>
+
+<p>"That seems a little hard on Alice, doesn't it?" said Eileen.</p>
+
+<p>"Any advance on eight-and-a-half?" called Henry from the writing-desk.
+And from that moment the discussion assumed the character of an auction,
+Laura finally running it up to thirteen (which brings in the twins) to
+the general satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>When the contract was signed, witnessed and posted on its way to the
+other signatories there was a general sense of relief that Christmas
+would not be very different from usual after all. Henry growled a good
+deal. But we know our Reverend Henry: he will do his duty when the time
+comes.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>"The Prince of Wales noticed a private in his own regiment, the
+Grenadier Guards, who is six feet inches in height. He is six feet
+inches in height."&mdash;<i>Scotsman.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p>It sounds silly, but the writer evidently means it.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%">
+<a href="images/503.png">
+<img src="images/503.png" width="100%" alt="THE RULING PASSION" /></a>
+<h4>THE RULING PASSION.</h4>
+<p><i>Voice from below.</i> <span class="smcap">"For 'eaven's sake, mum, get back. The fire-escape
+will be 'ere in five minutes."</span></p>
+<p><i>Endangered Female.</i> "Five minutes? Then throw me back my knitting."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE WILLOW-PATTERN PLATE.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">A Philistine? Then you will smile</p>
+<p class="i2">At this old willow-pattern plate</p>
+<p class="i2">And junks of long-forgotten date</p>
+<p class="i0">That anchor off Pagoda Isle;</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">At little pig-tailed simpering rakes</p>
+<p class="i2">Who kiss their hands (three miles away)</p>
+<p class="i2">To dainty beauties of Cathay</p>
+<p class="i0">Beside those un-foreshortened lakes.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">With hand on heart they smile and sue.</p>
+<p class="i2">Their topsy-turvy world, you say,</p>
+<p class="i2">Is out of all perspective? Nay,</p>
+<p class="i0">'Tis we who look at life askew.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Dreams lose their spell; hard facts we prize</p>
+<p class="i2">In our humdrum philosophy;</p>
+<p class="i2">But, could we change, who would not be</p>
+<p class="i0">A suitor for those azure eyes?</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Who would not sail with fairy freight</p>
+<p class="i2">Piloting some flat-bottomed barge&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">A size too small, or else too large&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">On this old willow-pattern plate?</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>"The 'Figaro' publishes a telegram from Petrograd which contradicts
+the German announcement that Lodz is occupied by the
+Kermans."&mdash;<i>Lancashire Evening Post.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p>And quite right too.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[Pg 504]</a></span>
+
+<h2>A MARNE FOOTNOTE.</h2>
+
+<p>There was a battlefield, I was told, with a ruined village near it,
+about as far from Paris as Sevenoaks is from London, and I decided to
+see it. The preliminaries, they said, would be difficult, but only
+patience was needed&mdash;patience and one's papers all in order. It would be
+necessary to go to the War Bureau, opposite the Invalides.</p>
+
+<p>I went to the War Bureau opposite the Invalides one afternoon. I rang
+the bell and a smiling French soldier opened the door. Within were long
+passages and other smiling French soldiers in little knots guarding the
+approaches, all very bureaucratic. The head of the first knot referred
+me to the second knot; the head of the second referred me to a third.
+The head of this knot, which guarded the approach to the particular
+military mandarin whom I needed or thought I needed, smiled more than
+any of them, and, having heard my story, said that that was certainly
+the place to obtain leave. But it was unwise and even impossible to go
+by any other way than road, as the railway was needed for soldiers and
+munitions of war, and therefore I must bring my chauffeur with me, with
+his papers, which must be examined and passed.</p>
+
+<p>My chauffeur? I possessed no such thing. Necessary then to provide
+myself with a chauffeur at once. Out I went in a fusillade of courtesies
+and sought a chauffeur. I visited a taxi rank and stopped this man and
+that, but all shied at the distance. At last one said that his garage
+would provide me with a car. So off to the garage we went, and there I
+had an interview with a manager, who declined to believe that permission
+for the expedition would be made at all, except possibly to oblige a
+person of great importance. Was I a person of great importance? he asked
+me. Was I? I wondered. No, I thought not. Very well then, he considered
+it best to drop the project.</p>
+
+<p>I came away and hailed another taxi, driven by a shaggy grey hearthrug.
+I told him my difficulties, and he at once offered to drive me anywhere
+and made no bones about the distance whatever. So it was arranged that
+he should come for me on the morrow&mdash;say Tuesday, at a quarter to
+eleven, and we would then get through the preliminaries and my lunch
+comfortably by noon and be off and away. So do hearthrugs talk with
+foreigners&mdash;light-heartedly and confident. But Heaven disposes. For when
+we reached the Bureau at a minute after eleven the next morning the
+smiling janitor told us we were too late. Too late at eleven? Yes, the
+office in question was closed between eleven and two; we must return at
+two.</p>
+
+<p>"But the day will be over," I said; "the light will have gone. Another
+day lost!" Nothing on earth can crystallize and solidify so swiftly and
+implacably as the French official face. At these words his smile
+vanished. He was not angry or threatening&mdash;merely granite. Those were
+the rules, and how could anyone question them? At two, he repeated: and
+again I left the building, this time not bowing quite so effusively, but
+suppressing a thousand criticisms which might have been spoken were not
+the French our allies.</p>
+
+<p>Three hours to kill in a city where everything is shut. No Louvre, no
+Carnavalet! However, the time went, chiefly over lunch, and at two we
+were there again, the hearthrug and I, and were shown into a
+waiting-room where far too many other persons had already assembled. To
+me this congestion seemed deplorable; but the hearthrug merely grinned.
+It was all a new experience to him, and his meter was registering the
+time. We waited, I suppose, forty minutes and then came our turn, and we
+were led to a little room where sat a typical elderly French officer at
+a table. He had white moustaches and was in uniform with blue and red
+about it. I bowed, he bowed, the hearthrug grovelled. I explained my
+need, and he replied instantly that I had come to the wrong place; the
+right place was the Conciergerie.</p>
+
+<p>Another rebuff! In England I might have told him that it was one of his
+own idiotic men who had told me otherwise, but of what use would that be
+in France? In France a thing is or is not, and there is no getting round
+it if it is not. French officials are portcullises, and they drop as
+suddenly and as effectively. Knowing this, so far from showing
+resentment or irritation, I bowed and made my thanks as though I had
+come for no other purpose than a dose of frustration; and again we left
+this cursed Bureau.</p>
+
+<p>I re-entered the taxi, which, judging by the meter, I should very soon
+have completely paid for, and we hurtled away (for the hearthrug was a
+demon driver) to Paris's Scotland Yard. Here were more passages, more
+little rooms, more inflexible officials. I had bowed to half-a-dozen and
+explained my errand before at last the right one was reached, and him
+the hearthrug grovelled to again and called "Mon Colonel." He sat at a
+table in a little room, and beside him, all on the same side of the
+table, sat three civilians. On the wall behind was a map of France. What
+they did all day, I wondered, and how much they were paid for it; for we
+were the only clients, and the suggestion of the place was one of
+anecdotage and persiflage rather than toil. They acted with the utmost
+unanimity. First "Mon Colonel" scrutinised my passport, and then the
+others, in turn, scrutinised it. What did I want to go to &mdash;&mdash; for? (The
+name is suppressed because it is two or three months since the battle
+was fought there.) I replied that my motive was pure curiosity. Did I
+know it was a very dull town? I wanted to see the battlefield. That
+would be <i>triste</i> too. Yes, I knew, but I was interested. "Mon Colonel"
+shrugged and wrote on a piece of paper and passed the paper to the first
+civilian, who wrote something else and passed it on, and finally the
+last one got it and discovered a mistake in the second civilian's
+writing, and the mistake had to be initialled by all the lot, each
+making great play with a blotter; and at last the precious document was
+handed to me and I was really free to start. But it was now dark.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>The road from &mdash;&mdash; leaves the town by a hill, crosses a canal, and then
+mounts and winds, and mounts again, and dips and mounts, between fields
+of stubble, with circular straw-stacks as their only occupants. The
+first intimation of anything untoward, besides the want of life, was the
+spire of the little white village of &mdash;&mdash; on the distant hill, which
+surely had been damaged. As one drew nearer it was clear that not only
+had the spire been damaged, but that the houses had been damaged too.
+The place seemed empty and under a ban.</p>
+
+<p>I stopped the car outside, at the remains of a burned shed, and walked
+along the desolate main street. All the windows were broken; the walls
+were indented with little holes or perforated with big ones. The roofs
+were in ruins. Here was the post-office; it is now half demolished and
+boarded up. There was the inn; it is now empty and forlorn. Half the
+great clock face leant against a wall. Everyone had fled&mdash;it is a
+"deserted village" with a vengeance: nothing left but a few fowls.
+Everything was damaged; but the church had suffered most. Half of the
+shingled spire was destroyed, most of the roof, and the great bronze
+bell lay among the <i>d&eacute;bris</i> on the ground. It is as though the enemy's
+policy was to intimidate the simple folk through the failure of their
+super-natural stronghold. "If the church is so pregnable, then what
+chance have we?"&mdash;that is the question which it was hoped would be
+asked; or so I imagined as I stood before this ruined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[Pg 505]</a></span> sanctuary.
+Where, I wondered, are those villagers now, and what chances are there
+of the rebuilding of these old peaceful homes, so secure and placid only
+four months ago?</p>
+
+<p>And then I walked to the battlefield a few hundred yards away, and only
+too distinguishable as such by the little cheap tricolors on the
+hastily-dug graves among the stubble and the ricks. Hitherto I had
+always associated these ricks with the art of Claude Monet, and seeing
+the one had recalled the other; but henceforward I shall think of those
+poor pathetic graves sprinkled among them, at all kinds of odd angles to
+each other&mdash;for evidently the holes were dug parallel with the bodies
+beside them&mdash;each with a little wooden cross hastily tacked together,
+and on some the remnants of the soldier's coat or cap, or even boots,
+and on some the blue, white and red. As far as one can distinguish,
+these little crosses break the view: some against the sky-line, for it
+is hilly about here, others against the dark soil.</p>
+
+<p>It was a day of lucid November sunshine. The sky was blue and the air
+mild. A heavy dew lay on the earth. Not a sound could be heard; not a
+leaf fluttered. No sign of life. We were alone, save for the stubble and
+the ricks and the wooden crosses and the little flags. How near the dead
+seemed: nearer than in any cemetery.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a distant booming sounded; then another and another. It was the
+guns at either Soissons or Rheims&mdash;the first thunder of man's hatred of
+man I had ever heard.</p>
+
+<p>So I, too, non-combatant, as <i>Anno-Domini</i> forces me to be, know
+something of war&mdash;a very little, it is true, but enough to make a
+difference when I read the letters from the trenches or meet a Belgian
+village refugee.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/505.png">
+<img src="images/505.png" width="100%" alt="Pompous Lady" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><i>Pompous Lady.</i> "<span class="smcap">I shall descend at Knightsbridge</span>."<br />
+<i>Tommy</i> (<i>aside</i>). "<span class="smcap">Takes 'erself for a bloomin' Zeppelin</span>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>"General Joffre then engaged in a short conversation with several
+journalists, and when they referred to the military medal which M.
+Poincar&eacute; pinned on his chest, he said: '3/8 All this counts for
+nothing.'"</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Manchester Guardian.</i></p>
+
+<p>But on the other 5/8 we offer our respectful congratulations.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE PROPHETS.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I have a friend, a gloomy soul,</p>
+<p class="i2">Who daily wails about the war,</p>
+<p class="i0">Taking the line that, on the whole,</p>
+<p class="i2">Our luck is rotten at the core,</p>
+<p class="i6">And into each success</p>
+<p class="i0">Reads some disaster, rather more than less.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Another friend I have, whose heart</p>
+<p class="i2">Beats with "abashless" confidence,</p>
+<p class="i0">Who sees the <span class="smcap">Kaiser</span> in the cart</p>
+<p class="i2">And hung in chains "a fortnight hence";</p>
+<p class="i6">He saw this months ago,</p>
+<p class="i0">And some day hopes to say, "I told you so."</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">When Heraclitus brings a cloud,</p>
+<p class="i2">Democritus provides the sun;</p>
+<p class="i0">Or should the Hopeful crow too loud,</p>
+<p class="i2">I listen to the Mournful One;</p>
+<p class="i6">And thus, between the two,</p>
+<p class="i0">I find a fairly rational point of view.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h4>Faces We have no Use For.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>"Once or twice he sighed a little, although he had an uninterrupted
+view of a profile as regular as a canoe."&mdash;<i>New Magazine.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[Pg 506]</a></span>
+
+<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2>
+
+<center>"<span class="smcap">The Man Who Stayed at Home</span>."</center>
+
+<p>No, he was not a shirker, as you thought. Nor was he engaged in making
+munitions of war, or khaki, or woollens, or military boots, or in
+exporting cocoa to the enemy <i>vi&acirc;</i> neutral Holland&mdash;that roaring
+monopoly of the Pacificist. His business was to spy at spies&mdash;a task
+that called for as much coolness and courage as any job at the Front.
+And so when the officious flapper presented him with a white feather he
+had no use for it except as a pipe-cleaner.</p>
+
+<p>For his purpose <i>Christopher Brent</i> had taken up his residence at a
+"select boarding establishment" on the East Coast, which contained the
+following members of the German Secret Service: <i>Mrs. Sanderson</i>,
+proprietress; <i>Carl</i>, her son, clerk in the British Admiralty; <i>Fr&auml;ulein
+Schroeder</i>, boarder, and <i>Fritz</i>, waiter. Their design, if I rightly
+penetrated its darkness, was to give information of the whereabouts of a
+certain section of the Expeditionary Force which was "coming through
+from the North"; to supply Berlin with plans of the coast defences; and
+finally to give a signal to a German submarine by the firing of the
+house, which would incidentally mean the roasting alive of its innocent
+contents. All this (for the sake of <span class="smcap">Aristotle</span> and the Unities) was to
+take place in a single day, though I for one could not believe that
+either the pigeon post or the ordinary mail would be equal to the
+strain.</p>
+
+<p>Their utensils included a Marconi instrument concealed in the chimney; a
+bomb; a revolver; maps of the minefield and harbour; a carrier-pigeon,
+and a knife for disposing of the cliff-sentry.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 40%">
+<a href="images/506.png">
+<img src="images/506.png" width="100%" alt="Hands up" /></a>
+<p>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"<span class="smcap">Hands up</span>!"<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"<span class="smcap">Hands up yourself</span>!"</p>
+<p>
+<i>Carl Sanderson.</i> .. Mr. <span class="smcap">Malcolm Cherry</span>.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>Christopher Brent.</i> .. Mr. <span class="smcap">Dennis Eadie</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>To frustrate their schemes something more was needed than the wit of
+<i>Brent</i> and his ally, the widow <i>Leigh</i>; something more, even, than his
+skill in shooting pigeons in flight with an air-rifle. The vacuum was
+supplied by the crass stupidity of the <span class="smcap">Emperor's</span> minions. Even when full
+credit is given to <i>Brent</i> for letting his bath overflow so as to flood
+the public salon and render it untenable, it was surely unwise of <i>Mrs.
+Sanderson</i> to offer her private parlour for the use of the boarders on
+the very day set apart for the execution of her plans which were centred
+in this room. It was also gross carelessness on the part of her son,
+when he had <i>Brent</i>, with hands up, at his mercy, to place his own
+revolver on the table and to use, in exchange, the unloaded weapon which
+he had taken from his opponent's pocket. It was puerile, too, to accept
+without proof the verbal assurances of the widow <i>Leigh</i> that she was
+one of themselves, a loyal German spy. And <i>Fritz</i> committed an
+unpardonable error in giving away the site of the Marconi apparatus by
+his undisguised suspicion of anybody who took any interest in the
+fireplace.</p>
+
+<p>And so their schemes all went agley; the whole pack was arrested; and
+when the curtain fell on a happy group of boarders in midnight
+<i>d&eacute;shabille</i> there was every promise that the misdemeanants would
+receive a month's imprisonment or at least a caution to be of good
+behaviour for the future.</p>
+
+<p>I understand, on good authority, that the tendency of the public at this
+juncture of the War is to demand light refreshment. Well, they have it
+here. For, though the subject deals with a serious problem of the hour,
+it can be treated, and is treated, with a very permissible humour that
+just stops short of farce. Some of the stage-devices, as I am assured by
+my betters, may have a touch of antiquity, but their application is as
+modern as can well be, and I should indeed be ungrateful if after an
+entertainment so smoothly and dexterously administered I were to be
+captious about origins or other matters of pedantry.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Dennis Eadie</span>, as <i>Brent</i>, both in his real character of detective
+and in the assumed futility of his disguise as a genial idiot, was
+equally excellent, and again proved his gift for quick-change artistry.
+Miss <span class="smcap">Mary Jerrold's</span> <i>Fr&auml;ulein Schroeder</i> was extraordinarily Teutonic in
+all but her quiet humour, which she seemed to have caught from the
+country of her adoption. The <i>Fritz</i> of Mr. <span class="smcap">Henry Edwards</span> was another
+delightful sketch, though his actual German birth and his allegation of
+Dutch nationality were both belied by the red Italian corpuscles with
+which the authors had inoculated him. Miss <span class="smcap">Jean Cadell</span>, as usual, played
+a pale and fatuous spinster, but this time, in the part of <i>Miss
+Myrtle</i>, she had her chance, and seized it bravely. When that typical
+British boarder, Mr. <i>John Preston, M.P.</i>. (interpreted with great relish
+and vigour by Mr. <span class="smcap">Hubert Harben</span>), remarked, "I call a spade a spade,"
+she replied, "And I suppose you would call a dinner-napkin a
+<i>serviette</i>"&mdash;one of the pleasantest remarks in a play where the good
+things said were many and unforced.</p>
+
+<p>I have not mentioned the admirable performance&mdash;its merits might easily
+be missed&mdash;of Mr. <span class="smcap">Stanley Logan</span> as a Territorial Tommy; or the very
+natural manners of Mrs. <span class="smcap">Robert Brough</span> as <i>Mrs. Sanderson</i>; or the quiet
+art of Miss <span class="smcap">Ruth Mackay</span> in a part (<i>Miriam Leigh</i>) that offered a
+too-limited scope to her exceptional talents. Miss <span class="smcap">Isobel Elsom</span>
+contributed her share of the rather perfunctory love-interest with a
+very pretty sincerity; and Mr. <span class="smcap">Malcolm Cherry</span>, in the ungrateful part of
+the spy <i>Carl</i>, did his work soundly, with a lofty sacrifice of his own
+obvious good-nature. Indeed, it was a very excellent cast.</p>
+
+<p>I should like to congratulate the authors, Messrs. <span class="smcap">Lechmere Worrall</span>, and
+<span class="smcap">Harold Terry</span>, on having given the public what they want, without lapsing
+into banality. The attraction of the first two Acts was not, perhaps,
+fully sustained in the third, but they gave us quite a cheerful evening;
+and at the fall of the curtain the audience was so importunate in their
+applause that Mr. <span class="smcap">Dennis Eadie</span> had to break it to them that, though the
+loss of their company would give him pain, he thought the time had come
+for them to go away.</p>
+
+<p>I did not notice Mr. <span class="smcap">Reginald McKenna</span> in the stalls, but it was a great
+night for him and the Home Office.</p>
+
+<p class="author">O. S.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h4>Raison de Plus.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Says the sleek humanitarian: "Any sacrifice I'd make</p>
+<p class="i0">For the voluntary system&mdash;up to going to the stake,"</p>
+<p class="i0">Which inspires the obvious comment that contingencies like this</p>
+<p class="i0">Turn the coming of conscription to unmitigated bliss.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<blockquote><p>"The remaining characters were taken by Mr. <span class="smcap">Herbert Lomas</span> as Ever, a
+splendid actor...."&mdash;<i>Manchester City News.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p>You should see Sir <span class="smcap">Herbert Tree</span> as Always.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[Pg 507]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/507.png">
+<img src="images/507.png" width="100%" alt="LANGUAGE-KULTUR." /></a>
+<h4>LANGUAGE-KULTUR.</h4>
+<p><i>Voice from the darkness.</i> "<span class="smcap">Doand shood! Doand shood! Ve vos de
+Viltshires</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</center>
+
+<p>If <i>The Prussian Officer</i>, a study of morbidly vicious cruelty practised
+by a captain of Cavalry on his helpless orderly (and the first of a
+sheaf of collected stories, short or shortish, by Mr. <span class="smcap">D. H. Lawrence</span>,
+issued by Messrs. <span class="smcap">Duckworth</span>), had been written since the declaration of
+war it would certainly be discounted as a product of the prevailing
+<i>odium bellicosum</i>. But it appeared well in the piping times of peace,
+and I remember it (as I remember others of the collection) with a
+freshness which only attaches to work that lifts itself out of the
+common ruck. An almost too poignant intensity of realism, expressed in a
+distinguished and fastidious idiom, characterises Mr. <span class="smcap">Lawrence's</span> method.
+It is a realism not of minutely recorded outward happenings, trivial or
+exciting, but of fiercely contested agonies of the spirit. None of those
+stories is a story in the accepted mode. They are studies in (dare one
+use the overworked word?) psychological portraiture. I don't know any
+other writer who realises passion and suffering with such objective
+<i>force</i>. The word "suffering" drops from his pen in curiously unexpected
+contexts. The fact of it seems to obsess him. Yet it is no morbid
+obsession. He seems to be dominated by sympathy in its literal meaning,
+and it gives his work a surprising richness of texture.... I dare press
+this book upon all such as need something more than mere yarns, who have
+an eye for admirably sincere workmanship and are interested in their
+fellows&mdash;fellows of all sorts, soldiers, keepers, travellers, clergymen,
+colliers, with womenfolk to match.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>On a map of the North you may be able to find an island named after one
+<i>Margaret</i>. It should lie, though I have sought it in vain, just about
+where the florid details of the Norwegian coast-line run up to those
+blank spaces that are dotted over, it would seem, only by the occasional
+footprints of polar bears. Anyhow it was so christened by two bold
+mariners who lived in the <i>Spacious Days</i> (<span class="smcap">Murray</span>) of <span class="smcap">Queen Elizabeth</span>.
+That they both loved the lady (<span class="smcap">Elizabeth</span>, of course, too&mdash;but I mean
+<i>Margaret</i>) may be assumed; but that they should eventually, with one
+accord, desire to resign their claims upon her affection must be read to
+be understood. I for one did not quarrel with them on this score. For
+had not their mistress in the meantime found companionship more suitable
+than theirs? Besides, if even the author is so little courteous to his
+heroine as to invite her to appear only in two chapters between the
+third and the twenty-seventh, why should two rough sea-dogs&mdash;or you and
+I&mdash;be more attentive? And indeed it is a correct picture of his period
+that Mr. <span class="smcap">Ralph Durand</span> is concerned to present rather than a love story.
+In the writing of the love scenes considered necessary to the mechanism
+of the plot he seems very little at his ease; and so marked at times is
+his discomfort that I must confess to having felt some irritation when
+my willingness to be convinced was not met halfway. In the handling of
+his sheets and oars I like the author better, though even here I miss
+what might have brought me into a companionship with his people as close
+as I could wish on a most adventurous journey of nearly four hundred
+pages. But perhaps that is my fault; and, at the least, here is a
+straightforward sea story&mdash;as honest as the sea and as clean.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[Pg 508]</a></span>
+
+<p><i>Llanyglo</i> was a child with fair hair and blue eyes, and how she grew
+and what she learnt, and all the changes of her dresses and her soul,
+are set forth by Mr. <span class="smcap">Oliver Onions</span> in <i>Mushroom Town</i> (<span class="smcap">Hodder and
+Stoughton</span>). She differed from the children of other novelists who grow
+up to be men and women, because she was made of bricks and mortar and
+iron girders and romantic scenery and ozone (especially ozone), and the
+people who lived with her or took trips to see her are treated as a mere
+emblematical garnish of her character and growth. <i>Llanyglo</i> is a
+daughter of Wales, but she is not any town that you may happen to have
+seen, although possibly Blackpool and Douglas and Llandudno have met
+her, and turned up their noses at her, as she turned up her nose at
+them. Lancashire built and conquered her, to be conquered and annually
+recuperated in turn. <i>Cymria capta ferum</i> ... might have been the motto
+of her municipal arms. Exactly how Mr. <span class="smcap">Onions</span> exhibits the romantic
+spectacle of her development, with the strange knowledge she picked up,
+as from virgin wildness she became first select and then popular, I
+cannot hope to explain. Suffice it to say that the process is epitomised
+in sketches of the various people who helped in the moulding of her&mdash;the
+drunken <i>Kerr</i> brothers, who built a house in a single night; <i>Howell
+Gruffydd</i>, the wily grocer; <i>Dafydd Dafis</i>, the harper; and <i>John Willie
+Garden</i>, son of the shrewd cotton-spinner who first saw the
+possibilities of the place, and won the heart of the untamed gipsy girl,
+<i>Ynys</i>. This is surely Mr. <span class="smcap">Onions</span>' best novel since <i>Good Boy Seldom</i>;
+and as <i>Llanyglo</i> is safely ensconced on the West coast you should go
+there at once for the winter season.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p><i>Spragge's Canyon</i> (<span class="smcap">Smith, Elder</span>), takes its title, as you might guess,
+from the canyon where the <i>Spragges</i> lived. It was a delightful spot, a
+kind of earthly paradise (snakes included), and the <i>Spragge</i> family had
+made it all themselves out of unclaimed land on the Californian coast.
+Wherefore the <i>Spragges</i> loved it with a love only equalled perhaps by
+the same emotion in the breast of Mr. <span class="smcap">H. A. Vachell</span>, who has written a
+book about it. The <i>Spragges</i> of the tale are <i>Mrs. Spragge</i>, widow of
+the pioneer, and her son <i>George</i>. With them on the ranch lived also a
+cousin, <i>Samantha</i>, a big-built capable young woman, destined by
+Providence and <i>Mrs. Spragge</i> to be the helpmate of <i>George</i>. But
+<i>George</i>, though he was strong and handsome and a perfect marvel with
+rattlesnakes (which he collected as a subsidiary source of income), was
+also a bit of a fool; and when, on one of his rare townward excursions,
+he got talking to <i>Hazel Goodrich</i> in a street car, her pale
+attractiveness and general lure proved too much for him. Accordingly
+<i>Hazel</i> was asked down to the ranch on a visit (I am taking it on trust
+that Mr. <span class="smcap">Vachell</span> knows the Californian etiquette in these matters) and
+has the time of her life, flirting with the love-lorn <i>George</i>,
+impressing his mother, and generally scoring off poor <i>Samantha</i>. At
+least so she thought. Really, however, <i>Mrs. Spragge</i> had taken
+<i>Hazel's</i> measure in one, and was all the time quietly fighting her
+visitor for her son's future. This fight, and the character of the
+mother who makes it, are the best things in the book. I shall not tell
+you who wins. Personally I had expected a comedy climax, and was
+unprepared for creeps. But <i>George</i>, I may remind you, collected snakes.
+A good and virile tale.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Sir <span class="smcap">Melville Macnaghten</span> hopes, in his Introduction to <i>Days of my Years</i>
+(Arnold), that his reminiscences "may be found of some interest to a
+patient reader"; and, when one considers that <i>Sir Melville</i> spent
+twenty-four years at Scotland Yard, many of them as chief of the
+Criminal Investigation Department, he can hardly be accused of undue
+optimism. Speaking as one of his readers, I found no difficulty at all
+in being patient. I have always had a weakness for official detectives,
+and have resented the term "Scotland Yard bungler" almost as if it were
+a personal affront; and now I feel that my resentment is justified.
+Scotland Yard does not bungle; and the advice I shall give for the
+future to any eager-eyed, enthusiastic young murderer burning to embark
+on his professional career is, don't practise in London. I would not
+lightly steal a penny toy in the Metropolitan area. There are two
+hundred and seventy-nine pages in this story of crime, as seen by the
+man at the very centre of things, and nearly every one of them is packed
+with matter of absorbing interest. Consider the titles of the chapters:
+"Bombs and their Makers"; "Motiveless Murders"; "Half-a-day with the
+Blood-hounds." This, I submit, is the stuff; this, I contend, is the
+sort of thing you were looking for. There is something so human and
+simple in Sir <span class="smcap">Melville's</span> method of narration that it is with an effort
+that one realises what an important person he really was, and what
+extraordinary ability he must have had to win and hold his high
+position. Even when he disparages blood-hounds I reluctantly submit to
+his superior knowledge and abandon one of my most cherished illusions. I
+hate to do it, but if he says that a blood-hound is no more use in
+tracking criminals than a Shetland pony would be, I must try to believe
+him.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%">
+<a href="images/508.png">
+<img src="images/508.png" width="100%" alt="THE COMPLETE SALESMAN" /></a>
+<h4>THE COMPLETE SALESMAN.</h4>
+<p><i>Lady</i> (<i>rather difficult to please</i>). "<span class="smcap">I like this one, but&mdash;I see it's
+printed in Germany</span>."</p>
+<p><i>Salesman.</i> "<span class="smcap">Well, if you like it, Madam, I wouldn't take too much
+notice of that statement. It's probably only another German lie</span>!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h4>Revenge.</h4>
+
+<blockquote><p>"After Herr Von Holman Bethwig's wild speech in the German Reichstag
+the Government might change their minds."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Cork Constitution.</i></p>
+
+<p>It isn't much one can do to the <span class="smcap">German Chancellor</span> just now, but these
+misprints of his name always annoy him, and every little helps.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol.
+147, December 16, 1914, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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+</pre>
+
+</body>
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@@ -0,0 +1,2187 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147,
+December 16, 1914, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, December 16, 1914
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: August 9, 2009 [EBook #29652]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  PUNCH,
+
+  OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+  VOLUME 147
+
+  DECEMBER 16, 1914
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CHARIVARIA.
+
+_T. P.'s Weekly_, in some sprightly lines, suggests that _Punch_ should
+appear daily. This would certainly not be a whit more strange than to
+issue a _T. P.'s Weekly Christmas Number_ as is done by our
+contemporary.
+
+       * * *
+
+Answer to a Correspondent.--Yes, khaki is the fashionable colour for
+plum-puddings for the Front.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Post hoc propter hoc?_ Extract from the Eye-Witness's description of
+the KING'S visit to France:--"Another sight which excited the King's
+keen interest was the large bathing establishment at one of the
+divisional headquarters.... From here the procession returned to General
+Headquarters, where his Majesty received General Foch and presented him
+with the Grand Cross of the Order of the Bath."
+
+       * * *
+
+Sir JOHN FRENCH'S praise of the Berkshire Regiment will surprise no one,
+least of all _Mr. Punch's_ Toby.
+
+       * * *
+
+REUTER tells us that when DE WET arrived at Johannesburg he was looking
+haggard and somewhat depressed. This lends colour to the rumour that he
+was annoyed at being captured.
+
+       * * *
+
+In a letter published by a German newspaper a Landwehr officer
+writes:--"On the German front officers and men do not salute in the
+usual way, but by saying, 'God punish England,' while the reply is, 'May
+He punish England.'" This admission that the Germans themselves cannot
+do it is significant.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Die Post_, in a reference to our million recruits, says, "Mere figures
+will not frighten us." Frankly, some of the figures of the stout
+Landwehr men frighten _us_.
+
+       * * *
+
+At last in Constantinople there are signs that it is being realised that
+the Germans are driving the Turkish Army to Suez-side.
+
+       * * *
+
+When the Germans and the Russians both claim to have won the same
+battle, what can one do? asks a correspondent. We can only suggest that
+the matter should be referred to the Hague Tribunal.
+
+       * * *
+
+An item of war news which the President of the Society for the Promotion
+of Propriety thinks the Censor might very well have censored:--"To the
+south of Lask the Russian troops took Shertzoff."
+
+       * * *
+
+"The Grenadier Guard, 6 ft. 7 in. high, whom the Prince of Wales noticed
+in hospital, is not the tallest man in the British Army, that
+distinction being claimed for Corporal Frank Millin, 2nd Coldstream
+Guards, who is 6 ft. 8-1/2 in." This, again, is the sort of paragraph
+which might have been censored with advantage, for we are quite sure
+that, if the PRINCE OF WALES'S giant sees it, it will cause a relapse.
+
+       * * *
+
+For the first time for many years there were no charges of murder at the
+December Sessions at the Old Bailey. It looks as if yet another of our
+industries has been filched by the Germans.
+
+       * * *
+
+The SECRETARY OF THE ADMIRALTY announces that candidates for
+assistant-clerkships, Royal Navy, who have completed a period of not
+less than three months' actual military service with His Majesty's
+Forces since mobilisation, will be granted fifty marks in the
+examination. It seems a most unpatriotic proceeding to pay them in
+German money.
+
+       * * *
+
+_The Nursing Times_ must really be more careful or we shall have the
+German newspapers drawing attention to atrocities by the French. In its
+issue of the 5th inst. our contemporary says:--"The 'Train unit' whose
+names we gave some weeks ago have waited all this time for their call
+for duty.... And now the French authorities have cut the train--and the
+staff--in two!"
+
+       * * *
+
+Reply to those who think it absurd to take precautions against
+invasion:--It's the Hun-expected that always happens.
+
+       * * *
+
+A great fall of cliff occurred last week between Beachy Head and
+Seaford, and the Germans are pointing out that the break-up of England
+has now begun in earnest.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: "I'M AFRAID IT'LL HAVE TO GO TO THE SAME PLACE AS MY
+GERMAN PIPE WENT--THE DUSTBIN. IT SUITED ME, TOO."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mr. Wells on Men's Wear.
+
+    "Her thoughts came back to the dancing little figure in
+    purple-striped pyjamas. She had a scared sense of irrevocable
+    breaches."
+
+    _The Wife of Sir Isaac Harman._
+
+An obvious misprint in the last word.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Quickest Route.
+
+    "THE KING'S JOURNEY.
+
+    CROSSES CHANNEL IN TORPEDO." Cumberland Evening Mail.
+
+This is the method which the KAISER means to try for his coming invasion
+of England.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Professor G. Sims Woodhead, the Board's consultative
+    bacteriological adviser, to whom the report had been submitted,
+    said: 'I consider Dr. Mair's work contains a germ of great
+    promise.'"
+
+    _Birmingham Daily Mail._
+
+We hope the Professor will not lose sight of the promising young
+microbe.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "For any enemy ship to try to get into Dover at the present time
+    would be like entering the mouth of hell.
+
+    [We understand that the Admiralty have received no condemnation of
+    this.]"
+
+    _Daily Telegraph._
+
+We hope that none of our contemporaries will blame the Admiralty for its
+lack of information.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Rev. Owen S. Watkins, one of the Wesleyan Methodist Chaplains with
+    the Expeditionary Force (already mentioned in the dispatches), tells
+    some most extraordinary stories of his experiences at the Front."
+
+    _Public Opinion._
+
+We remember now some mention of this "Expeditionary Force" being made in
+despatches, and we wondered at the time why the Censor allowed such a
+public reference to it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Russians quietly evacuated Lodz without the loss of a single man.
+The Germans allege that they captured it after strenuous fighting.
+
+"And how can man lie better
+Than facing fearful Lodz?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND MORNING.
+
+    [Lines for _King Albert's Book_, published to-day for the benefit of
+    _The Daily Telegraph's_ Belgian Relief Fund.]
+
+  You that have faith to look with fearless eyes
+    Beyond the tragedy of a world at strife,
+  And trust that out of night and death shall rise
+          The dawn of ampler life;
+
+  Rejoice, whatever anguish rend your heart,
+    That God has given you, for a priceless dower,
+  To live in these great times and have your part
+          In Freedom's crowning hour.
+
+  That you may tell your sons who see the light
+    High in the heaven, their heritage to take:--
+  "I saw the powers of darkness put to flight.
+          I saw the morning break!"
+
+  O. S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FINANCIAL STRATEGY.
+
+In some respects one is no doubt compelled to admire the foresight of
+those gentlemen who are writing the History of the War while it is in
+progress, but as Mabel (my wife and very able colleague) justly
+observes, no History of the War, however copious or however fully
+illustrated, can be considered complete without a few salient details of
+the campaign by which The Snookeries (our domestic stronghold in
+Tooting) was saved from the fate of Belgium.
+
+That omission I propose to remedy. Peace hath her strategy no less than
+War.
+
+For some time prior to the Declaration of War it was evident that the
+butcher, the baker, and other foes of our domestic happiness were
+gathering for an onslaught. The attitude of the butcher was particularly
+uncompromising: I do not hesitate to describe it as distinctly Hun-ish.
+Diplomacy gave little hope of preserving peace, so that I was not
+altogether surprised when the war opened with a heavy bombardment. A
+brigade of small accounts advanced in skirmishing order, but were
+disposed of without trouble.
+
+Mabel suggested a temporary withdrawal to the sand-dunes of
+Mudville-on-Sea, but I pointed out that this meant sacrificing part of
+our scanty store of ammunition and had the further disadvantage of
+cutting us off from our base of supplies in the City, to say nothing of
+losing touch with Uncle Robert, who has so often proved a staunch ally
+in a crisis.
+
+We therefore resolved to entrench ourselves behind the Moratorium and
+prepared for a stubborn resistance. From this strong position we were
+able to sustain without loss a brisk fire of explosive missives which
+continued unchecked for some weeks. Speaking quite candidly, and
+dropping the language of the Press Bureau for the moment, there has
+never been a time when the postman's rat-tat has occasioned me less
+emotion.
+
+The defences of the Moratorium did not save us from sundry annoying
+raids upon our supplies, the butcher being peculiarly active in this
+kind of warfare. I repeat, the butcher is a true Hun and must be sternly
+dealt with after the Peace. I was forced to silence him temporarily with
+a few shots from my new one-pounders.
+
+I would like to say what a valuable weapon the one-pounder has proved in
+this campaign. It is wonderfully mobile and saves the waste of heavier
+ammunition. My only regret is that we were not armed with more of them.
+
+Towards the end of August the rate-man and the gas-man mounted heavy
+ordnance upon official heights. They got our range to a nicety and
+threatened us in flank. I despatched Mabel at once to Uncle Robert, and
+with his assistance we were enabled to silence the enemy's howitzers,
+not, however, before the rate-man--a remorseless and persistent foe--had
+landed a "sheriff's officer" (as we jocularly term his missiles) into
+our dining-room. Little material damage was done, but for some days the
+effect upon the _moral_ of our forces was apparent.
+
+I must not forget to speak of Mabel's brilliant victory over the
+milkman, whose attack she frustrated by a threat to open negotiations
+for obtaining supplies from his hated rival. When these troubles are
+happily over I must certainly see that Mabel receives a decoration.
+
+Towards the end of October our entrenchments behind the Moratorium
+became untenable, but by that time we had received substantial
+reinforcements and were easily able to hold our own against the enemy's
+reckless frontal attacks. The landlord suddenly unmasked a very strong
+battery which created some consternation. He himself appeared in force,
+but, thanks to the vigilance of my outposts, I was enabled to make a
+strategic retirement by the back-garden gate, leaving Mabel to foil the
+enemy by a _ruse-de-guerre_. (Dear Mabel is wonderfully clever at these
+things.) I succeeded in regaining my position under cover of darkness.
+
+The attacks of the landlord were renewed with such vigour that I called
+a council of war to discuss the situation. Retreat being out of the
+question, Mabel suggested a levy of our last reserves, and the charwoman
+(who is a discreet person of considerable experience in such matters)
+was mobilised. In this way we secured a sufficient force to rout the
+landlord on his next appearance.
+
+The last few days have been comparatively quiet. Mabel's dressmaker and
+my tailor have reaffirmed their neutrality, and we have promise of
+further support, if needed, from Uncle Robert. Thus, although the enemy
+appear to contemplate a new attack in the future, we are full of
+confidence.
+
+In conclusion, I must not forget to refer to the very able way in which
+Mabel out-manoeuvred the coal-man. Before he could unlimber, she had
+deftly poured in a rapid fire of sympathy for the slackness of trade
+from which she _knew_ he must be suffering, and followed this up by an
+order for two tons of the best Wallsend.
+
+I think I am justified in advancing the theory that there are no flies
+on dear Mabel.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OFF THE FALKLANDS, DECEMBER 8TH.
+
+    [_To an old nautical air, with Mr. Punch's loud congratulations to
+    Vice-Admiral Sir DOVETON STURDEE and his brave sailors_.]
+
+    Hardened steel are our ships;
+      Gallant tars are our men;
+        We never are wordy
+        (STURDEE, boys, STURDEE!),
+  But quietly conquer again and again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FOR THE CHILDREN.
+
+The Hon. Treasurer of the Hospital for Sick Children, Great Ormond
+Street (where many Belgian children are being cared for) desires to
+express his sincere thanks to _Mr. Punch's_ readers for their generous
+response to the appeal for help which was recently made in these pages.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE SINEWS OF WAR.
+
+PRIVATE ATKINS. "FOR WHAT WE HAVE RECEIVED--AND ARE GOING TO
+RECEIVE--HERE'S TO THE A.S.C."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration:
+
+_Child_ (_much impressed by martial emblems opposite_). "MOTHER, IS THAT
+A SOLDIER?"
+
+_Mother._ "NO, DARLING."
+
+_Child_. "WHY NOT?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+UNWRITTEN LETTERS TO THE KAISER.
+
+No. X.
+
+(_From Mrs. JAMES PROSSER, 25, Paradise Road, Brixton_.)
+
+KAISER,--Jim's gone. I don't know if you'll like to hear it, him being a
+good fighter. I'd warrant him to take the shine out of any two Germans I
+ever met. They're big men, the Germans, but they mostly run to fat after
+their _premmer jewness_, as the Belgian lady over the way said last week
+when we was a-talking about 'em. I don't know what she meant, but she
+didn't look as if it was anything in the way of a compliment. That's why
+I've wrote it down here.
+
+Anyhow, Jim's gone. I saw him off with a lot of others, and they was all
+singing and shouting as loud as their lungs would let 'em--not drink,
+mind you, so don't you run away with that notion, but just high spirits
+and health and happiness. First it was "Tipperary," and that made me
+feel so mournful I had to give Jim a good old hug, and the little un
+pulling at my dress all the time and calling out, "Let me have a go at
+him, Mother," and "Don't give 'em all to Mother, Dad; keep half-a-dozen
+for me," just as sensible as a Christian, which is more than you can say
+of some. His name's Henery, the full name, not Henry, and we had him
+christened so, to make sure. He's going on for five years now, and he's
+got a leg and a chest on him to suit twice his years. I'm not saying
+that because I'm his mother, but because it's the truth. After they'd
+sung "Tipperary" they sang a lot of other songs. There was one in
+particklar that I liked, it had such a go with it. Jim told me it was
+made up by one of their own men, music and all. I misremember most of
+it, but there was two lines stuck in my head:--
+
+  General FRENCH is a regular blazer,
+  He's going to dust the German KAISER.
+
+There was a lot more about theirselves and their officers and their
+colonel, who was second to none and was making tracks for the German
+Hun, all as funny and clever as you could make it. I couldn't help
+laughing to see 'em all so jolly. Then the engine give a whistle and the
+guard said, "Stand back," and waved his green flag, and the train moved
+out, and the men cheered and we cheered back, and at last they was gone,
+and the little un was saying, "Don't mind me, mother. Have a good cry
+and get it over;" and then we went home, and he kept talking all the way
+of what he's going to do when he grows up to be a soldier himself.
+
+Well, Jim's gone, but I wouldn't have had him stay at home not for ever
+so much. He was earning good money, too, in his job, but that's going to
+be kept open for him so as he can drop into it again when he comes back.
+And I'm going to keep his home open for him so as he can drop into that
+when he comes back; there's enough money coming in to make certain of
+that, what with allowances and my work. Mind you, I _like_ to work; it
+keeps you from thinking too much, and me and the little un manage
+splendid together. He helps about the house better nor half-a-dozen
+housemaids, and he's so managing it would make you die of laughing to
+see him. The only trouble is he can't bear going to bed; but I tell him
+if he don't the KAISER'll catch him, and then he's off with his clothes
+and into his cot like a flash of lightning.
+
+There, I've talked about myself and the little un and all the time I
+meant to tell you about Jim. However, you'll know him right enough if
+ever you come up against him. He's a handsome man with black hair and no
+moustache, and he's got a scar over his right eye where he tumbled
+against the fender when he was four years old.
+
+Yours without love,
+
+SARAH PROSSER.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Genial Pedestrian._ "A BRIGHT MOON TO-NIGHT, CONSTABLE."
+
+_Morbid P.C._ "YES, SIR. LET'S 'OPE IT DON'T DRAW THE FIRE OF 'OSTILE
+AIR-CRAFT!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE WATCH DOGS.
+
+IX.
+
+DEAR Charles,--As the men, for reasons best known to themselves, will
+suddenly chant on the march--"We're here because we're here, because
+we're here, because we're here," goodness knows when (if ever) we shall
+get to the Front; so this is yet another letter for you from the Back,
+where we are, much against our will, kept to deal kindly but firmly with
+the German invader as, home-sick and sea-sick, he alights gloomily on
+our shores. If, by the way, I have given hints in this correspondence as
+to the disposition of any part of our troops, it is a comfort to think
+that the artful spy who gets hold of them will have the utmost
+difficulty in making up his mind as to the real or fictitious existence
+of (1) my Division; (2) my Brigade; (3) my Battalion; (4) my Company; or
+even (5) me.
+
+Meanwhile we are in a very difficult position, such as I believe few
+soldiers have ever been called upon to face. You will remember how, four
+months ago, we collected ourselves together in accordance with our
+long-standing engagement to protect these islands against the foreign
+trespasser, the condition of our contract being that our service should
+begin (as charity should) and end (as charity often does) at home. In
+the bad old days when I was at the Bar I should of course have known
+that contracts are apt to turn round on those who make them; but now I
+am only a plain soldier and I am unable to understand why I should be
+made to stay at home when I desire to go and make a nuisance of myself
+abroad. But the real trouble comes from this, that some six weeks ago I
+received written and explicit orders to the effect that I was to sail
+forthwith.
+
+Suppose this had happened to you and you had been given special leave of
+forty-eight hours to make all necessary preparations, would not you have
+gone where your more impressionable acquaintances and friends were
+gathered together in the greatest numbers, informing them of the
+position and doing, on the strength of it, a quiet but irretrievable
+swank? No ostentation, mark you, and nothing approaching a boast, but
+just a suspicion of a brave careless laugh, a voice just slightly choked
+with emotion and but a formal reluctance to accept the numerous and
+costly gifts proffered by relatives who at less emotional times would
+have grudged you a Christmas card?
+
+We did. We went home and were made a fuss of; we took our leave and nice
+things were said to us, tears welled, and hands, peculiarly firm or
+peculiarly tender as the case might be, held ours for rather longer than
+the customary period. With a brave "Pooh! Pooh! It doesn't matter in the
+least," we went off at last, off amid deafening cheers to the unknown
+future....
+
+The following week-end we were home again as before, but, since the joy
+of a temporary reprieve may outweigh even the annoyance of an
+anticlimax, they were pleased to see us and gave us another farewell
+only slightly less emotional than the last. But on the third of this
+series of week-ends a note of insincerity crept into the "Goodbye, old
+man," and the hand-pressure was slightly curtailed.
+
+Alas! there have been even more week-ends since that. I trust it is only
+our self-consciousness makes us think that we are looked upon as frauds,
+who have obtained by false pretences the field-glasses, electric
+torches, knitted wares, tears, hand-clasps and choicest superlatives of
+our friends. It becomes worse as time passes; we do not go home now, and
+we would even refrain from writing if we could hope by that means to
+have our whereabouts unknown and our existence doubtful. If the
+authorities won't part with us, they might at least give us an address
+which would make it look as if they had--something like "Capt. Blank,
+Blankth Blank Regt., Blankth Fighting Force, c/o G.P.O." What will
+happen is that we shall go suddenly and without time to explain, and,
+when our friends are told, their faces will cloud over, not with sorrow
+at our departure but with annoyance at being pestered with the news of
+it again. It is a hard life, is a soldier's!
+
+One bold bad private informed our most youthful orderly officer, upon
+being asked if he had had a sufficient breakfast: "Yes, thank you, Sir:
+a glass of water and a woodbine;" otherwise personal idiosyncracies
+become less marked, since individualities become merged in the corporate
+machine. The battalion is cross as a whole, nervy as a whole, laughs as
+a whole, almost sneezes or has indigestion as a whole. Recalling the
+good old days of annual camps, when energy used to be rewarded with free
+beer rather than demanded as a matter of course, the battalion as often
+as not sings as a whole while route-marching at ease past the C.O.:--
+
+  "Nobody knows how dry we are,
+  Nobody knows how dry we are,
+  Nobody knows how dry we are,
+    AND NOBODY SEEMS TO CARE."
+
+While the conduct of all of us becomes every day more disciplined, our
+speech, I have to report with regret, becomes more loose. Emphasis is an
+essential of military life, and it must be such emphasis as the least
+intelligent may readily appreciate. Sometimes I tremble to think in what
+terms I may inadvertently ask some gentle soul later on in life to pass
+the marmalade, or with what expletives I may comment upon some little
+defect in domestic life. My literary friend, John, has shamelessly
+compiled a short phrase-book for our use abroad, reproducing our present
+regrettable idioms. One inquiry, to be addressed to the local peasant by
+the leading officer, runs thus:--"Can you tell me, Sir, where the enemy
+is at present to be found?"--"_Ou sont les Boches sanguinaires?_"
+
+The other point of view as to going to the Front was put last Sunday
+with unconscious aptness. At breakfast we had read aloud to us a letter
+written with inspiring realism by a Watch Dog who is actually there and
+seeing life in all its detail in the trenches. Having listened to it
+with rapt attention, we then marched to church and (actually) sang with
+unanimous fervour:-
+
+  "The trivial round, the common task
+  Will furnish all we need to ask...."
+
+Nevertheless more to be feared than the enraged German is the sceptical
+scornful Aunt of
+
+Yours ever,
+
+  HENRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: AT A MILITARY WEDDING.
+
+_Usher_ (_to Uninvited Guest_). "BRIDE'S FRIENDS TO THE RIGHT;
+BRIDEGROOM'S TO THE LEFT."
+
+_Uninvited Guest._ "I'M AFRAID I'M A NEUTRAL."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Washington, Saturday.--The American Ambassador at Constantinople
+    reports that Turkey has acquiesced in the departure of several
+    Canadian missionaries, whose safe conduct was requested by Sir Cecil
+    Spring-Rice, the British Ambassador here."--_People._
+
+This is headed "Millionaires Released," and shows how well the clergy
+are paid in Canada.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LITTLE BROTHER.
+
+(_The Indian Jackal._)
+
+  Panther, tiger, wolf and bear,
+    They live where the hills are high,
+  Where the eagle swings in the upper air
+    And the gay dacoit is nigh;
+  But we live down in the delta lands,
+    A decenter place to be--
+  The frogs and the bats and Little Brother,
+    The pariah dogs and me.
+
+  He was a Rajah once on a time
+    Who is Little Brother now;
+  And I know it is all for monstrous crime
+    Or shamefully broken vow
+  That he slinks in the dust and eats alone
+    With a pious tongue and free;
+  For a holy man is Little Brother,
+    As beggars ought to be.
+
+  But whether he lurks in the morning light
+    Where the tall plantations grow,
+  Or wanders the village fields by nights
+    Telling of ancient woe;
+  Or whether he's making a sporting run
+    For me and a dog or two,
+  An uncanny beast is Little Brother
+    For Christian eyes to view.
+
+  For there comes an hour at the full o' the moon
+    When the Boh-tree blossoms fall,
+  And a devil comes out of the afternoon
+    And has him a night in thrall;
+  And he hunts till dawn like a questing hound
+    For souls that have lost their way;
+  And it's well to be clear of Little Brother
+    Till the good gods bring the day.
+
+  Wherefore I think I will end my song
+    Wishing him fair good night,
+  For Little Brother's got something wrong
+    That'll never on earth come right;
+  And this perhaps is the honest truth,
+    And the wisest folk agree,
+  The less I know about Little Brother
+    The better by far for me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HOME THOUGHTS FROM THE TRENCHES.
+
+  Old mother mine, at times I find
+     Pauses when fighting's done
+  That make me lonesome and inclined
+  To think of those I left behind--
+     And most of all of one.
+
+  At home you're knitting woolly things--
+     They're meant for me for choice;
+  There's rain outside, the kettle sings
+  In sobs and frolics till it brings
+     Whispers that seem a voice.
+
+  Cheer up! I'm calling, far away;
+     And, wireless, you can hear.
+  Cheer up! you know you'd have me stay
+  And keep on trying day by day;
+     We're winning, never fear.
+
+  Although to have me back's your prayer--
+     I'm willing it should be--
+  You'd never breathe a word to spare
+  Yourself, and stop me playing fair;
+     You're braver far than me.
+
+  So let your dear face twist a smile
+     The way it used to do;
+  And keep on cheery all the while,
+  Rememb'ring hating's not your style--
+     Germans have mothers too.
+
+  And when the work is through, and when
+     I'm coming home to find
+  The one who sent me out, ah! then
+  I'll make you (bless you) laugh again,
+     Old sweetheart left behind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HIGH JINKS AT HAPPY-THOUGHT HALL.
+
+    [_An inevitable article in any decent magazine at this time of the
+    year. Read it carefully, and then have an uproarious time in your
+    own little house._]
+
+IT was a merry party assembled at Happy-Thought Hall for Christmas. The
+Squire liked company, and the friends whom he had asked down for the
+festive season had all stayed at Happy-Thought Hall before, and were
+therefore well acquainted with each other. No wonder, then, that the wit
+flowed fast and furious, and that the guests all agreed afterwards that
+they had never spent such a jolly Christmas, and that the best of all
+possible hosts was Squire Tregarthen!
+
+But first we must introduce some of the Squire's guests to our readers.
+The Reverend Arthur Manley, a clever young clergyman with a taste for
+gardening, was talking in one corner to Miss Phipps, a pretty girl of
+some twenty summers. Captain Bolsover, a smart cavalry officer, together
+with Professor and Mrs. Smith-Smythe from Oxford, formed a small party
+in another corner. Handsome Jack Ellison was, as usual, in deep
+conversation with the beautiful Miss Holden, who, it was agreed among
+the ladies of the party, was not altogether indifferent to his fine
+figure and remarkable prospects. There were other guests, but as they
+chiefly played the part of audience in the events which followed their
+names will not be of any special interest to our readers. Suffice it to
+say that they were all intelligent, well-dressed and ready for any sort
+of fun.
+
+(Now, thank heaven, we can begin.)
+
+A burst of laughter from Captain Bolsover attracted general attention,
+and everybody turned in his direction.
+
+"By Jove, Professor, that's good," he said, as he slapped his knee; "you
+must tell the others that."
+
+"It was just a little incident that happened to me to-day as I was
+coming down here," said the Professor, as he beamed round on the
+company. "I happened to be rather late for my train, and as I bought my
+ticket I asked the clerk what time it was. He replied, 'If it takes six
+seconds for a clock to strike six, how long will it take to strike
+twelve?' I said twelve seconds, but it seems I was wrong."
+
+The others all said twelve seconds too, but they were all wrong. Can
+_you_ guess the right answer?
+
+Illustration: FIG. 1.--TO ILLUSTRATE THE PROFESSOR'S DELIGHTFUL STORY
+OF THE BOOKING-CLERK'S ANSWER.
+
+When the laughter had died down, the Reverend Arthur Manley said:
+
+"That reminds me of an amusing experience which occurred to my
+housekeeper last Friday. She was ordering a little fish for my lunch,
+and the fishmonger, when asked the price of herrings, replied, 'Three
+ha'pence for one and a-half,' to which my housekeeper said, 'Then I will
+have twelve.' How much did she pay?" He smiled happily at the company.
+
+"One-and-sixpence, of course," said Miss Phipps.
+
+"No, no; ninepence," cried the Squire with a hearty laugh.
+
+Captain Bolsover made it come to L1 3_s._ 2-1/2_d._, and the Professor
+thought fourpence. But once again they were all wrong. What do _you_
+make it come to?
+
+Illustration: FIG. 2.--TO ILLUSTRATE THE CURATE'S INGENIOUS PROBLEM OF
+THE FISHMONGER.
+
+It was now Captain Bolsover's turn for an amusing puzzle, and the others
+turned eagerly towards him.
+
+"What was that one about a door?" said the Squire. "You were telling me
+when we were out shooting yesterday, Bolsover."
+
+Captain Bolsover looked surprised.
+
+"Ah, no, it was young Reggie Worlock," said the Squire with a hearty
+laugh.
+
+"Oh, do tell us, Squire," said everybody.
+
+"It was just a little riddle, my dear," said the Squire to Miss Phipps,
+always a favourite of his. "When is a door not a door?"
+
+Miss Phipps said when it was a cucumber; but she was wrong. So were the
+others. See if _you_ can be more successful.
+
+"Yes, that's very good," said Captain Bolsover; "it reminds me of
+something which occurred during the Boer War."
+
+Everybody listened eagerly.
+
+"We were just going into action, and I happened to turn round to my men,
+and say, 'Now, then, boys, give 'em beans!' To my amusement one of them
+replied smartly, 'How many blue beans make five?' We were all so
+interested working it out that we never got into action at all."
+
+"But that's easy," said the Professor. "Five."
+
+"Four," said Miss Phipps. (She would. Silly kid.)
+
+"Six," said the Squire.
+
+Which was right?
+
+Illustration: FIG. 3.--TO ILLUSTRATE THE CAPTAIN'S THRILLING STORY OF
+THE BOER WAR.
+
+Jack Ellison had been silent during the laughter and jollity, always
+such a feature of Happy-Thought Hall at Christmas time, but now he
+contributed an ingenious puzzle to the amusement of the company.
+
+"I met a man in a motor-'bus," he said in a quiet voice, "who told me
+that he had four sons. The eldest son, Abraham, had a dog who used to go
+and visit the three brothers occasionally. The dog, my informant told
+me, was very unwilling to go over the same ground twice, and yet being
+in a hurry wished to take the shortest journey possible. How did he
+manage it?"
+
+For a little while the company was puzzled. Then, after deep thought,
+the Professor said:
+
+"It depends on where they lived."
+
+"Yes," said Ellison. "I forgot to say that my acquaintance drew me a
+map." He produced a paper from his pocket. "Here it is."
+
+Illustration: FIG. 4.--TO ILLUSTRATE THE JOURNEY OF THE SAGACIOUS
+HOUND.
+
+The others immediately began to puzzle over the answer, Miss Phipps
+being unusually foolish, even for her. It was some time before they
+discovered the correct route. What do _you_ think it is?
+
+"Well," said the Squire, with a hearty laugh, "it's time for bed."
+
+One by one they filed off, saying what a delightful evening they had
+had. Jack Ellison was particularly emphatic, for the beautiful Miss
+Holden had promised to be his wife. He, for one, will never forget
+Christmas at Happy-Thought Hall.
+
+    [NOTE.--The originals of the drawings are on sale from the Author at
+    five guineas apiece.]
+
+  A. A. M.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Little Tomkins_ (_to Herculean Coalheaver_). "WHY DON'T
+YOU COME UP THE GREEN A COUPLE O' NIGHTS A WEEK AN' DO A BIT O' SHOOTIN'
+AN' DRILLIN'? YOU'D GET AS FIT AS A FIDDLE."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+STABLE INFORMATION.
+
+  Last winter I wasn't familiar with Brown,
+    Our intercourse didn't extend
+  Past a grunt if we met on the journey to town
+    And a nod when I chose to unbend;
+  But times are _mutata_, and now I've begun
+    To cultivate Brown more and more,
+  For Brown has a son who is friends with the son
+    Of a man at the Office of War.
+
+  When a fog is concealing how matters progress
+    And editors wearily use
+  (Upholding the goodly repute of the Press)
+    A headline from yesterday's news,
+  Brown's knowledge enables his friends to decide
+    What the future is holding in store,
+  For we gather that KITCHENER _loves_ to confide
+    In that man at the Office of War.
+
+  And I in my turn spread the tidings about;
+    To the heart that is apt to be glum
+  And the spirit that suffers severely from doubt
+    Like a sunbeam in winter I come;
+  "The Teuton," I whisper, "will suffer eclipse
+    In the course of a fortnight--no more;
+  I have had it--well, almost direct from the lips
+    Of the Chief of the Office of War."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: UNRECORDED EVENTS IN THE HISTORY OF THE WAR.
+
+GERMAN SOLDIERS BEING ROUSED TO ENTHUSIASM BY THE "HYMN OF HATE."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MAILS FOR A MAILED FIST.
+
+    [The rumours of an invasion of this country, which have been
+    prevalent during the last few days, are presumably responsible for
+    these letters addressed to the Kaiser, which have been intercepted.]
+
+_Northsea Cove, Suffolk._
+
+       * * *
+
+Kind Sir,--Should your troops land in this neighbourhood, would you
+please ask them not to fire off guns between 3 and 4 P.M., as during
+that hour I have my afternoon rest, and I do not sleep very well.
+
+Yours truly,
+WILHELMINA TIMMINS.
+
+       * * *
+
+Sir,--Hearing that you are thinking of sending over an army, we have
+formed a small Reception Committee to provide for its comfort, and
+knowing how concerned you are for the welfare of your troops we think
+you will be glad to learn that complete arrangements have been made for
+conveying them to, and accommodating them at, a salubrious spot called
+Tipperary, immediately on their arrival.
+
+(Signed) J. PUSHER, _Secretary_,
+Eastern and Home Counties Resorts
+Association.
+
+       * * *
+
+Professor Burgess-Brown, the well-known swimming expert, presents his
+compliments. He would be pleased to call at Kiel Harbour (or other
+appointed place) in order to teach the art of natation to German
+soldiers who may, after arrival in England, suddenly find themselves
+deprived of their troopships when wishing to return.
+
+       * * *
+
+Dear Sir,--We hear that a number of your friends are coming to England,
+and shall accordingly welcome an enquiry for our advice, which is always
+at the disposal of the travelling public. We do not know whether you
+propose personally to come over, but we should certainly recommend this
+course, as by travelling _via_ an English port you could get a boat
+_direct_ to St. Helena and thus save the wearisome changing to which you
+might be exposed in sailing from the Continent.
+
+Yours obediently,
+THE WORLD'S TOURS, LIMITED.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Headquarters, Poppy Patrol Boy Scouts, Cliffe, Norfolk._
+
+Dear Sir,--I don't think there is much use in your troops landing. In
+this county alone there are two hundred and ninety-five more scouts than
+there were in August, and they are still coming in. Of course come if
+you like, but don't say I didn't warn you.
+
+Yours, T. SMITH,
+Patrol Leader.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Imperial Studios, Yarmouth._
+
+Sir,--Hearing that your troops are thinking of visiting the above town,
+we should be glad to take you, in small or large groups. We understand
+that your excursion will be only a half-day one, but we have facilities
+for the immediate development of negatives.
+
+Yours obediently,
+GEORGE GELATINE JONES.
+
+       * * *
+
+WARNING! TO THE KAISER.
+
+_From the Huntsman of the Bungay Foxhounds._
+
+Send your men over if you like. Let them turn their guns on all our
+ancient buildings, destroy crops, blow up bridges; but MIND, if one of
+your Huns raises a rifle to any Norfolk or Suffolk fox, there will be
+trouble of a serious kind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: KILLED!
+
+[With _Mr. Punch's_ compliments to General BOTHA.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Old Lady_ (_to District Visitor_). "DID YOU HEAR A
+STRANGE NOISE THIS MORNING, MISS, AT ABOUT FOUR O'CLOCK? I THOUGHT IT
+WAS ONE OF THEM AIREOPLANES; AND MY NEIGHBOUR WAS SO SURE IT WAS ONE HE
+WENT DOWN AND LET HIS DOG LOOSE."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MINOR WAR GAINS.
+
+  The year that is stormily ending
+    Has brought us full measure of grief,
+  And yet we must thank it for sending
+    At times unexpected relief;
+  These boons are not felt in the trenches
+    Or make our home burdens less hard;
+  They're not a bonanza, but merit a stanza
+    Or two from the doggerel bard.
+
+  The names of musicians and mummers
+    No longer are loud on our lips;
+  By the side of our buglers and drummers
+    CARUSO endures an eclipse;
+  And the legions of freaks and of faddists
+    Who hailed him with rapturous awe,
+  O wonder of wonders, are finding out blunders,
+    And worse, in the writings of SHAW!
+
+  Good BEGBIE, no longer upraising
+    His plea for the "uplift" of Hodge,
+  Has ceased for a season from praising
+    LLOYD GEORGE and Sir OLIVER LODGE;
+  And there hasn't been much in the papers
+    About the next novel from CAINE
+  (No doubt he's in Flanders, the guest of commanders
+    Who reverence infinite brain).
+
+  JOHN WARD has forgiven the Curragh
+    (The Curragh's forgotten JOHN WARD);
+  No longer he cries "Wurra Wurra!"
+    At sight of an officer's sword;
+  MACDONALD, the terror of tigers,
+    Sits silent and meek as a mouse,
+  And the great VON KEIRHARDI is curiously tardy
+    In "voicing" his spleen in the House.
+
+  The screeds of professors and jurists
+    Have quite disappeared from the Press;
+  'Tis little we hear of Futurists,
+    And frankly we care even less;
+  Why, TREVELYAN, the martyr to candour,
+    Who lately his office resigned,
+  Though waters were heaving has sunk without leaving
+    The tiniest ripple behind.
+
+  In fine, though there fall to our fighters
+    Too many hard buffets and humps,
+  'Tis a comfort to think that our blighters
+    Are down in the deadliest dumps;
+  And whatever the future may bring us
+    In profits or pleasures or pains
+  The ill wind that's blowing to-day is bestowing
+    A number of negative gains.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE IDEAL CHRISTMAS CARD.
+
+"Are we sending Christmas cards this year? Yes," said Blathers, "but not
+next year, or the year after that, as we shall be retrenching. They are
+quite modest trifles, yet at the mere sight of the envelope each
+recipient will, cheerfully, I hope, pay twopence towards the sinews of
+war. One hundred of these contributions will amount, I am told, to
+sixteen shillings and eightpence; not much, but it is my little offering
+to the country in her hour of need. This is the card I propose to send
+out in a sealed and unstamped cover":--
+
+    MR. AND MRS. BLATHERS WISH YOU A HAPPY CHRISTMAS 1914, 1915 AND
+    1916, AND A BRIGHT NEW YEAR 1915, 1916 AND 1917.
+
+
+_The Ferns, Tooting._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The Russian mining engineers who have been sent to Galicia since
+    the occupation report that the oil districts will suffice to supply
+    the whole of South-Western Russia. The working of the fields will
+    start in the spring; moreover salt and iron abound, also
+    sporadicalli, silver, copper, lead and the rarer metals."
+
+_Cork Examiner._
+
+For vermicelli, however, it will still be necessary to go to Italy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR NATIONAL GUESTS.
+
+III.
+
+To the list of things that the Belgians in Crashie Howe do not
+understand, along with oatmeal, honey in the comb, and tapioca, must now
+be added the Scottish climate. They do not complain, but they are
+puzzled, and after sixty-five consecutive hours of rain they wonder
+wistfully if it is always like this. We simply dare not tell them the
+truth.
+
+By every post we are busy hunting for lost relatives who are scattered
+before the shattering fist of the KAISER over Great Britain, Belgium,
+Holland and France. We have not been very successful so far, but one or
+two we have found, at points as far apart as York and Milford Haven,
+and, best of all, we have unearthed a great-grandmother, last seen in an
+open coal boat off Ostend, who is now in comfortable quarters in a
+village in Ayrshire.
+
+Our language difficulties have not been assisted by the arrival of a
+family from Antwerp who talk nothing but Walloon, but, on the other
+hand, the progress of the children is now beginning to afford certain
+frail lines of communication. The least of them, Elise, can already
+count up to twenty in English (with a strong Scoto-Flemish accent), and
+so it came about that when I took my little nieces round to pay calls,
+relations were at once established on a numerical basis.
+
+"One, two, three," said Sheila, holding out her hand.
+
+"Four," retorted Juliette, gurgling with delight.
+
+"Five, six, seven," shouted Betty.
+
+"Eight, nine?" enquired Juliette....
+
+At the next cottage, where we were all rather shy, we began tentatively
+with "One?" But we finally gained so much confidence that by the time we
+reached our last visit we ran it up to ten at a single burst, and were
+consequently received with open arms.
+
+One of our main concerns has been the Santa Claus question, and that is
+a matter which touches us closely, as we have among our number eleven
+children of Santa Claus age. There are a good many pitfalls here, and it
+is now unfortunately too late to warn other people of the chief of them.
+For the fact is--as we found to our amazement--that Santa Claus (you
+must, by the way, call him St. Nicholas; after all, it is his proper
+name) comes to Belgium and Russia, not on December 25th, but on December
+6th. All our attempts to explain this phenomenon by the difference in
+the Russian calendar, though ingenious, have failed; it doesn't work out
+at all. Still, for some reason, that is how it is, and we cannot but be
+grateful to St. Nicholas for this delicate attention to our allies, by
+which no doubt they get the pick of the toys, even though we were nearly
+let in by him. Indeed Pierre had practically given up hope. He had told
+his mother that he was afraid St. Nicholas would never find his way to
+Scotland, it was too far.
+
+Then there is another thing which might easily have been overlooked.
+It's no use putting out stockings, as we prefer to do in our insular
+way; one must put out _shoes_. At first sight it looks as if we in this
+country have the pull over our allies here, for one pair of little shoes
+does not hold much stuff. But fortunately it is the happy custom in all
+lands to allow of overflow to any extent. And finally St. Nicholas never
+comes down the chimney; he pops in through the window (which should be
+left slightly open at the bottom so that he can get in his thumb and
+prize it up). Also he never drove a reindeer in his life. He rides a
+horse. And this is of the first importance, for the one condition
+attaching to his benevolence is that you must put out a good wisp of hay
+for the horse, along with your shoes, or else he will simply pass on and
+you will get nothing at all.
+
+Having collected and considered all these facts we were fully prepared
+to meet the situation--even down to the small gingerbread animals which
+always grace the day--on December 6th, and to deal faithfully with the
+little rows of clogs, bulging with hay, which awaited us on St. Nicholas
+Eve.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Weary Variety Agent._ "AND WHAT'S _YOUR_ PARTICULAR
+CLAIM TO ORIGINALITY?"
+
+_Artiste._ "I'M THE ONLY COMEDIAN WHO HAS SO FAR REFRAINED FROM
+ADDRESSING THE ORCHESTRA AS 'YOU IN THE TRENCH.'"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CHRISTMAS PRESENTS, 1914.
+
+"It's perfectly simple," said the Reverend Henry, adopting his lofty
+style. "We must cut the whole lot. There is no other course."
+
+"I don't consider that your opinion is of any value whatever," said
+Eileen. "In fact you ought not to be allowed to take part in this
+discussion. Every one knows that you have always tried to get out of
+Christmas presents, and now you are merely using a grave national
+emergency to further your private ends."
+
+The Reverend Henry was squashed; but Mrs. Sidney had a perfect right to
+speak, for she has been without doubt the most persistent and
+painstaking Christmas provider in the family, and has never been known
+to miss a single relation even at the longest range.
+
+"I quite agree with Henry," said she. "This is no time for Christmas
+presents--except to hospitals and Belgians and men at the Front."
+
+"You mean that you would scratch the whole lot," said I, "even the
+pocket diary for 1915 that I send to Uncle William?"
+
+"Yes, even that. You can send the diary to Sidney" (who is in Flanders).
+"I have always wanted him to keep a diary."
+
+"What about the children?" said I.
+
+"The children must realise," said the Reverend Henry solemnly, "what it
+means for the nation to be at war."
+
+"Oh, no," Laura broke in impetuously. "How can they realise? How can you
+expect Kathleen to realise?"
+
+"Do you know," said the Reverend Henry, "that only last Sunday my niece
+Kathleen was marching all over the house singing at the top of her
+voice, 'It's a long, long way to Tipperary: the Bible tells me so?'
+Obviously she realises."
+
+"But what about----" Eileen was beginning.
+
+"Let's have a scrap of paper," said I, "a contract that we can all sign,
+and then we can put down the exceptions to the rule."
+
+Henry was already hard at work with a sheet of foolscap.
+
+"... not to exchange, give, receive or swap in celebration of
+Christmas, 1914, any gift, donation, subscription, contribution, grant,
+token or emblem within the family and its connections: and further not
+to permit any gift, donation, subscription, contribution, grant, token
+or emblem to emanate from any member of the family to such as are
+outside."
+
+"Good so far," said I.
+
+"The following recipients to be excepted," Henry went on,
+
+"(1) All Hospitals; (2) Belgians; (3) His Majesty's Forces----"
+
+"(4) The Poor and Needy," suggested Eileen.
+
+"(5) The Aged and Infirm," said I. "I only want to get in Great-aunt
+Amelia. She mustn't be allowed to draw a blank."
+
+"That's true," said Henry; "we'll fix the age limit at ninety-one.
+That'll bring her in."
+
+"(6) Children of such tender age that they are unable to realise the
+national emergency," said Mrs. Sidney.
+
+"Quite so," said Henry. "What would you suggest as the age limit?
+Three?"
+
+"Four," said Laura simultaneously.
+
+"I should like to suggest five," said I, "to bring in Kathleen."
+
+"Let's make it seven," said Mrs. Henry. "I can hardly believe that Peter
+realises, you know."
+
+"Stop a bit," said I. "If you take in Peter you can't possibly leave out
+Tom. Make it eight-and-a-half."
+
+"That seems a little hard on Alice, doesn't it?" said Eileen.
+
+"Any advance on eight-and-a-half?" called Henry from the writing-desk.
+And from that moment the discussion assumed the character of an auction,
+Laura finally running it up to thirteen (which brings in the twins) to
+the general satisfaction.
+
+When the contract was signed, witnessed and posted on its way to the
+other signatories there was a general sense of relief that Christmas
+would not be very different from usual after all. Henry growled a good
+deal. But we know our Reverend Henry: he will do his duty when the time
+comes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The Prince of Wales noticed a private in his own regiment, the
+    Grenadier Guards, who is six feet inches in height. He is six feet
+    inches in height."--_Scotsman._
+
+It sounds silly, but the writer evidently means it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE RULING PASSION.
+
+_Voice from below._ "FOR 'EAVEN'S SAKE, MUM, GET BACK. THE FIRE-ESCAPE
+WILL BE 'ERE IN FIVE MINUTES."
+
+_Endangered Female._ "Five minutes? Then throw me back my knitting."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE WILLOW-PATTERN PLATE.
+
+  A Philistine? Then you will smile
+    At this old willow-pattern plate
+    And junks of long-forgotten date
+  That anchor off Pagoda Isle;
+
+  At little pig-tailed simpering rakes
+    Who kiss their hands (three miles away)
+    To dainty beauties of Cathay
+  Beside those un-foreshortened lakes.
+
+  With hand on heart they smile and sue.
+    Their topsy-turvy world, you say,
+    Is out of all perspective? Nay,
+  'Tis we who look at life askew.
+
+  Dreams lose their spell; hard facts we prize
+    In our humdrum philosophy;
+    But, could we change, who would not be
+  A suitor for those azure eyes?
+
+  Who would not sail with fairy freight
+    Piloting some flat-bottomed barge--
+    A size too small, or else too large--
+  On this old willow-pattern plate?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The 'Figaro' publishes a telegram from Petrograd which contradicts
+    the German announcement that Lodz is occupied by the
+    Kermans."--_Lancashire Evening Post._
+
+And quite right too.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A MARNE FOOTNOTE.
+
+There was a battlefield, I was told, with a ruined village near it,
+about as far from Paris as Sevenoaks is from London, and I decided to
+see it. The preliminaries, they said, would be difficult, but only
+patience was needed--patience and one's papers all in order. It would be
+necessary to go to the War Bureau, opposite the Invalides.
+
+I went to the War Bureau opposite the Invalides one afternoon. I rang
+the bell and a smiling French soldier opened the door. Within were long
+passages and other smiling French soldiers in little knots guarding the
+approaches, all very bureaucratic. The head of the first knot referred
+me to the second knot; the head of the second referred me to a third.
+The head of this knot, which guarded the approach to the particular
+military mandarin whom I needed or thought I needed, smiled more than
+any of them, and, having heard my story, said that that was certainly
+the place to obtain leave. But it was unwise and even impossible to go
+by any other way than road, as the railway was needed for soldiers and
+munitions of war, and therefore I must bring my chauffeur with me, with
+his papers, which must be examined and passed.
+
+My chauffeur? I possessed no such thing. Necessary then to provide
+myself with a chauffeur at once. Out I went in a fusillade of courtesies
+and sought a chauffeur. I visited a taxi rank and stopped this man and
+that, but all shied at the distance. At last one said that his garage
+would provide me with a car. So off to the garage we went, and there I
+had an interview with a manager, who declined to believe that permission
+for the expedition would be made at all, except possibly to oblige a
+person of great importance. Was I a person of great importance? he asked
+me. Was I? I wondered. No, I thought not. Very well then, he considered
+it best to drop the project.
+
+I came away and hailed another taxi, driven by a shaggy grey hearthrug.
+I told him my difficulties, and he at once offered to drive me anywhere
+and made no bones about the distance whatever. So it was arranged that
+he should come for me on the morrow--say Tuesday, at a quarter to
+eleven, and we would then get through the preliminaries and my lunch
+comfortably by noon and be off and away. So do hearthrugs talk with
+foreigners--light-heartedly and confident. But Heaven disposes. For when
+we reached the Bureau at a minute after eleven the next morning the
+smiling janitor told us we were too late. Too late at eleven? Yes, the
+office in question was closed between eleven and two; we must return at
+two.
+
+"But the day will be over," I said; "the light will have gone. Another
+day lost!" Nothing on earth can crystallize and solidify so swiftly and
+implacably as the French official face. At these words his smile
+vanished. He was not angry or threatening--merely granite. Those were
+the rules, and how could anyone question them? At two, he repeated: and
+again I left the building, this time not bowing quite so effusively, but
+suppressing a thousand criticisms which might have been spoken were not
+the French our allies.
+
+Three hours to kill in a city where everything is shut. No Louvre, no
+Carnavalet! However, the time went, chiefly over lunch, and at two we
+were there again, the hearthrug and I, and were shown into a
+waiting-room where far too many other persons had already assembled. To
+me this congestion seemed deplorable; but the hearthrug merely grinned.
+It was all a new experience to him, and his meter was registering the
+time. We waited, I suppose, forty minutes and then came our turn, and we
+were led to a little room where sat a typical elderly French officer at
+a table. He had white moustaches and was in uniform with blue and red
+about it. I bowed, he bowed, the hearthrug grovelled. I explained my
+need, and he replied instantly that I had come to the wrong place; the
+right place was the Conciergerie.
+
+Another rebuff! In England I might have told him that it was one of his
+own idiotic men who had told me otherwise, but of what use would that be
+in France? In France a thing is or is not, and there is no getting round
+it if it is not. French officials are portcullises, and they drop as
+suddenly and as effectively. Knowing this, so far from showing
+resentment or irritation, I bowed and made my thanks as though I had
+come for no other purpose than a dose of frustration; and again we left
+this cursed Bureau.
+
+I re-entered the taxi, which, judging by the meter, I should very soon
+have completely paid for, and we hurtled away (for the hearthrug was a
+demon driver) to Paris's Scotland Yard. Here were more passages, more
+little rooms, more inflexible officials. I had bowed to half-a-dozen and
+explained my errand before at last the right one was reached, and him
+the hearthrug grovelled to again and called "Mon Colonel." He sat at a
+table in a little room, and beside him, all on the same side of the
+table, sat three civilians. On the wall behind was a map of France. What
+they did all day, I wondered, and how much they were paid for it; for we
+were the only clients, and the suggestion of the place was one of
+anecdotage and persiflage rather than toil. They acted with the utmost
+unanimity. First "Mon Colonel" scrutinised my passport, and then the
+others, in turn, scrutinised it. What did I want to go to ---- for? (The
+name is suppressed because it is two or three months since the battle
+was fought there.) I replied that my motive was pure curiosity. Did I
+know it was a very dull town? I wanted to see the battlefield. That
+would be _triste_ too. Yes, I knew, but I was interested. "Mon Colonel"
+shrugged and wrote on a piece of paper and passed the paper to the first
+civilian, who wrote something else and passed it on, and finally the
+last one got it and discovered a mistake in the second civilian's
+writing, and the mistake had to be initialled by all the lot, each
+making great play with a blotter; and at last the precious document was
+handed to me and I was really free to start. But it was now dark.
+
+       * * *
+
+The road from ---- leaves the town by a hill, crosses a canal, and then
+mounts and winds, and mounts again, and dips and mounts, between fields
+of stubble, with circular straw-stacks as their only occupants. The
+first intimation of anything untoward, besides the want of life, was the
+spire of the little white village of ---- on the distant hill, which
+surely had been damaged. As one drew nearer it was clear that not only
+had the spire been damaged, but that the houses had been damaged too.
+The place seemed empty and under a ban.
+
+I stopped the car outside, at the remains of a burned shed, and walked
+along the desolate main street. All the windows were broken; the walls
+were indented with little holes or perforated with big ones. The roofs
+were in ruins. Here was the post-office; it is now half demolished and
+boarded up. There was the inn; it is now empty and forlorn. Half the
+great clock face leant against a wall. Everyone had fled--it is a
+"deserted village" with a vengeance: nothing left but a few fowls.
+Everything was damaged; but the church had suffered most. Half of the
+shingled spire was destroyed, most of the roof, and the great bronze
+bell lay among the _debris_ on the ground. It is as though the enemy's
+policy was to intimidate the simple folk through the failure of their
+super-natural stronghold. "If the church is so pregnable, then what
+chance have we?"--that is the question which it was hoped would be
+asked; or so I imagined as I stood before this ruined sanctuary.
+Where, I wondered, are those villagers now, and what chances are there
+of the rebuilding of these old peaceful homes, so secure and placid only
+four months ago?
+
+And then I walked to the battlefield a few hundred yards away, and only
+too distinguishable as such by the little cheap tricolors on the
+hastily-dug graves among the stubble and the ricks. Hitherto I had
+always associated these ricks with the art of Claude Monet, and seeing
+the one had recalled the other; but henceforward I shall think of those
+poor pathetic graves sprinkled among them, at all kinds of odd angles to
+each other--for evidently the holes were dug parallel with the bodies
+beside them--each with a little wooden cross hastily tacked together,
+and on some the remnants of the soldier's coat or cap, or even boots,
+and on some the blue, white and red. As far as one can distinguish,
+these little crosses break the view: some against the sky-line, for it
+is hilly about here, others against the dark soil.
+
+It was a day of lucid November sunshine. The sky was blue and the air
+mild. A heavy dew lay on the earth. Not a sound could be heard; not a
+leaf fluttered. No sign of life. We were alone, save for the stubble and
+the ricks and the wooden crosses and the little flags. How near the dead
+seemed: nearer than in any cemetery.
+
+Suddenly a distant booming sounded; then another and another. It was the
+guns at either Soissons or Rheims--the first thunder of man's hatred of
+man I had ever heard.
+
+So I, too, non-combatant, as _Anno-Domini_ forces me to be, know
+something of war--a very little, it is true, but enough to make a
+difference when I read the letters from the trenches or meet a Belgian
+village refugee.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Pompous Lady._ "I SHALL DESCEND AT KNIGHTSBRIDGE."
+
+_Tommy_ (_aside_). "TAKES 'ERSELF FOR A BLOOMIN' ZEPPELIN!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "General Joffre then engaged in a short conversation with several
+    journalists, and when they referred to the military medal which M.
+    Poincare pinned on his chest, he said: '3/8 All this counts for
+    nothing.'"
+
+    _Manchester Guardian._
+
+But on the other 5/8 we offer our respectful congratulations.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE PROPHETS.
+
+  I have a friend, a gloomy soul,
+    Who daily wails about the war,
+  Taking the line that, on the whole,
+    Our luck is rotten at the core,
+        And into each success
+  Reads some disaster, rather more than less.
+
+  Another friend I have, whose heart
+    Beats with "abashless" confidence,
+  Who sees the KAISER in the cart
+    And hung in chains "a fortnight hence";
+        He saw this months ago,
+  And some day hopes to say, "I told you so."
+
+  When Heraclitus brings a cloud,
+    Democritus provides the sun;
+  Or should the Hopeful crow too loud,
+    I listen to the Mournful One;
+        And thus, between the two,
+  I find a fairly rational point of view.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Faces We have no Use For.
+
+    "Once or twice he sighed a little, although he had an uninterrupted
+    view of a profile as regular as a canoe."--_New Magazine._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AT THE PLAY.
+
+"THE MAN WHO STAYED AT HOME."
+
+No, he was not a shirker, as you thought. Nor was he engaged in making
+munitions of war, or khaki, or woollens, or military boots, or in
+exporting cocoa to the enemy _via_ neutral Holland--that roaring
+monopoly of the Pacificist. His business was to spy at spies--a task
+that called for as much coolness and courage as any job at the Front.
+And so when the officious flapper presented him with a white feather he
+had no use for it except as a pipe-cleaner.
+
+For his purpose _Christopher Brent_ had taken up his residence at a
+"select boarding establishment" on the East Coast, which contained the
+following members of the German Secret Service: _Mrs. Sanderson_,
+proprietress; _Carl_, her son, clerk in the British Admiralty; _Fraeulein
+Schroeder_, boarder, and _Fritz_, waiter. Their design, if I rightly
+penetrated its darkness, was to give information of the whereabouts of a
+certain section of the Expeditionary Force which was "coming through
+from the North"; to supply Berlin with plans of the coast defences; and
+finally to give a signal to a German submarine by the firing of the
+house, which would incidentally mean the roasting alive of its innocent
+contents. All this (for the sake of ARISTOTLE and the Unities) was to
+take place in a single day, though I for one could not believe that
+either the pigeon post or the ordinary mail would be equal to the
+strain.
+
+Their utensils included a Marconi instrument concealed in the chimney; a
+bomb; a revolver; maps of the minefield and harbour; a carrier-pigeon,
+and a knife for disposing of the cliff-sentry.
+
+To frustrate their schemes something more was needed than the wit of
+_Brent_ and his ally, the widow _Leigh_; something more, even, than his
+skill in shooting pigeons in flight with an air-rifle. The vacuum was
+supplied by the crass stupidity of the EMPEROR'S minions. Even when full
+credit is given to _Brent_ for letting his bath overflow so as to flood
+the public salon and render it untenable, it was surely unwise of _Mrs.
+Sanderson_ to offer her private parlour for the use of the boarders on
+the very day set apart for the execution of her plans which were centred
+in this room. It was also gross carelessness on the part of her son,
+when he had _Brent_, with hands up, at his mercy, to place his own
+revolver on the table and to use, in exchange, the unloaded weapon which
+he had taken from his opponent's pocket. It was puerile, too, to accept
+without proof the verbal assurances of the widow _Leigh_ that she was
+one of themselves, a loyal German spy. And _Fritz_ committed an
+unpardonable error in giving away the site of the Marconi apparatus by
+his undisguised suspicion of anybody who took any interest in the
+fireplace.
+
+And so their schemes all went agley; the whole pack was arrested; and
+when the curtain fell on a happy group of boarders in midnight
+_deshabille_ there was every promise that the misdemeanants would
+receive a month's imprisonment or at least a caution to be of good
+behaviour for the future.
+
+Illustration:
+
+"HANDS UP!"
+
+"HANDS UP YOURSELF!"
+
+_Carl Sanderson._ .. Mr. MALCOLM CHERRY.
+_Christopher Brent._ .. Mr. DENNIS EADIE.
+
+I understand, on good authority, that the tendency of the public at this
+juncture of the War is to demand light refreshment. Well, they have it
+here. For, though the subject deals with a serious problem of the hour,
+it can be treated, and is treated, with a very permissible humour that
+just stops short of farce. Some of the stage-devices, as I am assured by
+my betters, may have a touch of antiquity, but their application is as
+modern as can well be, and I should indeed be ungrateful if after an
+entertainment so smoothly and dexterously administered I were to be
+captious about origins or other matters of pedantry.
+
+Mr. DENNIS EADIE, as _Brent_, both in his real character of detective
+and in the assumed futility of his disguise as a genial idiot, was
+equally excellent, and again proved his gift for quick-change artistry.
+Miss MARY JERROLD'S _Fraeulein Schroeder_ was extraordinarily Teutonic in
+all but her quiet humour, which she seemed to have caught from the
+country of her adoption. The _Fritz_ of Mr. HENRY EDWARDS was another
+delightful sketch, though his actual German birth and his allegation of
+Dutch nationality were both belied by the red Italian corpuscles with
+which the authors had inoculated him. Miss JEAN CADELL, as usual, played
+a pale and fatuous spinster, but this time, in the part of _Miss
+Myrtle_, she had her chance, and seized it bravely. When that typical
+British boarder, Mr. _John Preston, M. P._ (interpreted with great relish
+and vigour by Mr. HUBERT HARBEN), remarked, "I call a spade a spade,"
+she replied, "And I suppose you would call a dinner-napkin a
+_serviette_"--one of the pleasantest remarks in a play where the good
+things said were many and unforced.
+
+I have not mentioned the admirable performance--its merits might easily
+be missed--of Mr. STANLEY LOGAN as a Territorial Tommy; or the very
+natural manners of Mrs. ROBERT BROUGH as _Mrs. Sanderson_; or the quiet
+art of Miss RUTH MACKAY in a part (_Miriam Leigh_) that offered a
+too-limited scope to her exceptional talents. Miss ISOBEL ELSOM
+contributed her share of the rather perfunctory love-interest with a
+very pretty sincerity; and Mr. MALCOLM CHERRY, in the ungrateful part of
+the spy _Carl_, did his work soundly, with a lofty sacrifice of his own
+obvious good-nature. Indeed, it was a very excellent cast.
+
+I should like to congratulate the authors, Messrs. LECHMERE WORRALL, and
+HAROLD TERRY, on having given the public what they want, without lapsing
+into banality. The attraction of the first two Acts was not, perhaps,
+fully sustained in the third, but they gave us quite a cheerful evening;
+and at the fall of the curtain the audience was so importunate in their
+applause that Mr. DENNIS EADIE had to break it to them that, though the
+loss of their company would give him pain, he thought the time had come
+for them to go away.
+
+I did not notice Mr. REGINALD MCKENNA in the stalls, but it was a great
+night for him and the Home Office.
+
+  O. S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Raison de Plus.
+
+    Says the sleek humanitarian: "Any sacrifice I'd make
+    For the voluntary system--up to going to the stake,"
+    Which inspires the obvious comment that contingencies like this
+    Turn the coming of conscription to unmitigated bliss.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The remaining characters were taken by Mr. HERBERT LOMAS as Ever, a
+    splendid actor...."--_Manchester City News._
+
+You should see Sir HERBERT TREE as Always.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: LANGUAGE-KULTUR.
+
+_Voice from the darkness._ "DOAND SHOOD! DOAND SHOOD! VE VOS DE
+VILTSHIRES."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
+
+If _The Prussian Officer_, a study of morbidly vicious cruelty practised
+by a captain of Cavalry on his helpless orderly (and the first of a
+sheaf of collected stories, short or shortish, by Mr. D. H. LAWRENCE,
+issued by Messrs. DUCKWORTH), had been written since the declaration of
+war it would certainly be discounted as a product of the prevailing
+_odium bellicosum_. But it appeared well in the piping times of peace,
+and I remember it (as I remember others of the collection) with a
+freshness which only attaches to work that lifts itself out of the
+common ruck. An almost too poignant intensity of realism, expressed in a
+distinguished and fastidious idiom, characterises Mr. LAWRENCE'S method.
+It is a realism not of minutely recorded outward happenings, trivial or
+exciting, but of fiercely contested agonies of the spirit. None of those
+stories is a story in the accepted mode. They are studies in (dare one
+use the overworked word?) psychological portraiture. I don't know any
+other writer who realises passion and suffering with such objective
+_force_. The word "suffering" drops from his pen in curiously unexpected
+contexts. The fact of it seems to obsess him. Yet it is no morbid
+obsession. He seems to be dominated by sympathy in its literal meaning,
+and it gives his work a surprising richness of texture.... I dare press
+this book upon all such as need something more than mere yarns, who have
+an eye for admirably sincere workmanship and are interested in their
+fellows--fellows of all sorts, soldiers, keepers, travellers, clergymen,
+colliers, with womenfolk to match.
+
+       * * *
+
+On a map of the North you may be able to find an island named after one
+_Margaret_. It should lie, though I have sought it in vain, just about
+where the florid details of the Norwegian coast-line run up to those
+blank spaces that are dotted over, it would seem, only by the occasional
+footprints of polar bears. Anyhow it was so christened by two bold
+mariners who lived in the _Spacious Days_ (MURRAY) of QUEEN ELIZABETH.
+That they both loved the lady (ELIZABETH, of course, too--but I mean
+_Margaret_) may be assumed; but that they should eventually, with one
+accord, desire to resign their claims upon her affection must be read to
+be understood. I for one did not quarrel with them on this score. For
+had not their mistress in the meantime found companionship more suitable
+than theirs? Besides, if even the author is so little courteous to his
+heroine as to invite her to appear only in two chapters between the
+third and the twenty-seventh, why should two rough sea-dogs--or you and
+I--be more attentive? And indeed it is a correct picture of his period
+that Mr. RALPH DURAND is concerned to present rather than a love story.
+In the writing of the love scenes considered necessary to the mechanism
+of the plot he seems very little at his ease; and so marked at times is
+his discomfort that I must confess to having felt some irritation when
+my willingness to be convinced was not met halfway. In the handling of
+his sheets and oars I like the author better, though even here I miss
+what might have brought me into a companionship with his people as close
+as I could wish on a most adventurous journey of nearly four hundred
+pages. But perhaps that is my fault; and, at the least, here is a
+straightforward sea story--as honest as the sea and as clean.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Llanyglo_ was a child with fair hair and blue eyes, and how she grew
+and what she learnt, and all the changes of her dresses and her soul,
+are set forth by Mr. OLIVER ONIONS in _Mushroom Town_ (HODDER AND
+STOUGHTON). She differed from the children of other novelists who grow
+up to be men and women, because she was made of bricks and mortar and
+iron girders and romantic scenery and ozone (especially ozone), and the
+people who lived with her or took trips to see her are treated as a mere
+emblematical garnish of her character and growth. _Llanyglo_ is a
+daughter of Wales, but she is not any town that you may happen to have
+seen, although possibly Blackpool and Douglas and Llandudno have met
+her, and turned up their noses at her, as she turned up her nose at
+them. Lancashire built and conquered her, to be conquered and annually
+recuperated in turn. _Cymria capta ferum_ ... might have been the motto
+of her municipal arms. Exactly how Mr. ONIONS exhibits the romantic
+spectacle of her development, with the strange knowledge she picked up,
+as from virgin wildness she became first select and then popular, I
+cannot hope to explain. Suffice it to say that the process is epitomised
+in sketches of the various people who helped in the moulding of her--the
+drunken _Kerr_ brothers, who built a house in a single night; _Howell
+Gruffydd_, the wily grocer; _Dafydd Dafis_, the harper; and _John Willie
+Garden_, son of the shrewd cotton-spinner who first saw the
+possibilities of the place, and won the heart of the untamed gipsy girl,
+_Ynys_. This is surely Mr. ONIONS' best novel since _Good Boy Seldom_;
+and as _Llanyglo_ is safely ensconced on the West coast you should go
+there at once for the winter season.
+
+       * * *
+
+_Spragge's Canyon_ (SMITH, ELDER), takes its title, as you might guess,
+from the canyon where the _Spragges_ lived. It was a delightful spot, a
+kind of earthly paradise (snakes included), and the _Spragge_ family had
+made it all themselves out of unclaimed land on the Californian coast.
+Wherefore the _Spragges_ loved it with a love only equalled perhaps by
+the same emotion in the breast of Mr. H. A. VACHELL, who has written a
+book about it. The _Spragges_ of the tale are _Mrs. Spragge_, widow of
+the pioneer, and her son _George_. With them on the ranch lived also a
+cousin, _Samantha_, a big-built capable young woman, destined by
+Providence and _Mrs. Spragge_ to be the helpmate of _George_. But
+_George_, though he was strong and handsome and a perfect marvel with
+rattlesnakes (which he collected as a subsidiary source of income), was
+also a bit of a fool; and when, on one of his rare townward excursions,
+he got talking to _Hazel Goodrich_ in a street car, her pale
+attractiveness and general lure proved too much for him. Accordingly
+_Hazel_ was asked down to the ranch on a visit (I am taking it on trust
+that Mr. VACHELL knows the Californian etiquette in these matters) and
+has the time of her life, flirting with the love-lorn _George_,
+impressing his mother, and generally scoring off poor _Samantha_. At
+least so she thought. Really, however, _Mrs. Spragge_ had taken
+_Hazel's_ measure in one, and was all the time quietly fighting her
+visitor for her son's future. This fight, and the character of the
+mother who makes it, are the best things in the book. I shall not tell
+you who wins. Personally I had expected a comedy climax, and was
+unprepared for creeps. But _George_, I may remind you, collected snakes.
+A good and virile tale.
+
+       * * *
+
+Sir MELVILLE MACNAGHTEN hopes, in his Introduction to _Days of my Years_
+(Arnold), that his reminiscences "may be found of some interest to a
+patient reader"; and, when one considers that _Sir Melville_ spent
+twenty-four years at Scotland Yard, many of them as chief of the
+Criminal Investigation Department, he can hardly be accused of undue
+optimism. Speaking as one of his readers, I found no difficulty at all
+in being patient. I have always had a weakness for official detectives,
+and have resented the term "Scotland Yard bungler" almost as if it were
+a personal affront; and now I feel that my resentment is justified.
+Scotland Yard does not bungle; and the advice I shall give for the
+future to any eager-eyed, enthusiastic young murderer burning to embark
+on his professional career is, don't practise in London. I would not
+lightly steal a penny toy in the Metropolitan area. There are two
+hundred and seventy-nine pages in this story of crime, as seen by the
+man at the very centre of things, and nearly every one of them is packed
+with matter of absorbing interest. Consider the titles of the chapters:
+"Bombs and their Makers"; "Motiveless Murders"; "Half-a-day with the
+Blood-hounds." This, I submit, is the stuff; this, I contend, is the
+sort of thing you were looking for. There is something so human and
+simple in Sir MELVILLE'S method of narration that it is with an effort
+that one realises what an important person he really was, and what
+extraordinary ability he must have had to win and hold his high
+position. Even when he disparages blood-hounds I reluctantly submit to
+his superior knowledge and abandon one of my most cherished illusions. I
+hate to do it, but if he says that a blood-hound is no more use in
+tracking criminals than a Shetland pony would be, I must try to believe
+him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE COMPLETE SALESMAN.
+
+_Lady_ (_rather difficult to please_). "I LIKE THIS ONE, BUT--I SEE IT'S
+PRINTED IN GERMANY."
+
+_Salesman._ "WELL, IF YOU LIKE IT, MADAM, I WOULDN'T TAKE TOO MUCH
+NOTICE OF THAT STATEMENT. IT'S PROBABLY ONLY ANOTHER GERMAN LIE!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Revenge.
+
+    "After Herr Von Holman Bethwig's wild speech in the German Reichstag
+    the Government might change their minds."
+
+    _Cork Constitution._
+
+It isn't much one can do to the GERMAN CHANCELLOR just now, but these
+misprints of his name always annoy him, and every little helps.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol.
+147, December 16, 1914, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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