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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:48:25 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:48:25 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/44654-0.txt b/44654-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e156b50 --- /dev/null +++ b/44654-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1855 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44654 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 44654-h.htm or 44654-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44654/44654-h/44654-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44654/44654-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 148 + +FEBRUARY 3, 1915. + + + + + + + +CHARIVARIA. + +"Celerity," said the German CHANCELLOR to our representative +at Berlin on the eve of the War, "is essential lo us." It has, however, +taken him over five months to discover what he meant by his "scrap of +paper" speech. + +* * * + +As a substitute for the International Railway Time Table Conference, +Germany has invited Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Austria, Switzerland and +Italy to a joint conference to be held on February 3rd. Certainly +something will have to be done for the KAISER'S Time Tables. +They have been most unsatisfactory ever since the outbreak of the War. + +* * * + +A German paper reports that the KAISER is in excellent health +now, and that his girth has distinctly increased during the War. His +patriotic countrymen must be delighted at this fresh extension of +Kaiser-tum. + +* * * + +The omission of the GERMAN EMPEROR to send a telegram +of condolence to KING VICTOR EMMANUEL on the occasion +of the earthquake has called forth severe comments in Italy. The +KAISER is said to have been anxious to create the impression +that he sent the earthquake himself as a caution. + +* * * + +ENVER PASHA is said to have now returned to Constantinople. +His place in the Egyptian Expeditionary Force will, it is thought, be +taken by REVERS PASHA. + +* * * + +The EX-KHEDIVE'S war-cry: "Geneva for the Egyptians!" + +* * * + +"The GERMAN EMPEROR," said General VON KRESSENSTEIN, +the other day, in a speech to Turkish officers and men, "is a sincere +father to Islam." This statement was very necessary as many Turkish +soldiers, judging by their experience of German officers, had imagined +that the KAISER was Islam's stepfather. + +* * * + +Articles entitled "_Unser Hass gegen England_," Mr. VALENTINE +WILLIAMS tells us, continue to appear in the German Press, and a +dear old lady writes to say that she presumes the Hass in question is +the KAISER. + +* * * + +We are sorry to hear that a Scotch prisoner in Germany got into serious +trouble for referring in a letter to the fact that he was a member of +the Burns Society. The authorities imagined this to be an incendiary +association. + +* * * + +Those wideawake Germans have discovered further evidence of a shortage +of arms in our country. Attention is being drawn in Berlin to the fact +that the London County Council has decided to defer the proposal to +have a coat-of-arms until the conclusion of the War. + +* * * + +We hear that Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL is delighted at the +success of his expression, "the baby-killers," which has taken on +so wonderfully and promises to have a greater run even than Mr. +ASQUITH'S "Wait and see." Fortunately in these times there is +no jealousy between politicians. + +* * * + +_The Observer_ is wondering whether, in view of the threat of Zeppelin +raids, we are taking sufficient precautions in regard to our national +treasures. It may relieve our contemporary to know that at least one +post-impressionist has removed all his works to a secret destination in +the country. + +* * * + +During a recent aerial attack on Dunkirk some bombs, we are told, set +fire to a woollen warehouse. This just shows the danger of constructing +a warehouse of such inflammable material. + +* * * + +The War Office, _The Express_ tells us, recently requested the borough +of Sunderland to raise a brigade of field artillery. The Mayor, +however, is reported to be a Quaker and opposed to War on principle, +and it is stated that the local recruiting committee has decided to +respect the Mayor's conscientious scruples. Suggested motto for the +town, "Let Sunderland Quake." + +* * * + +Speaking of the new Lord of Appeal, a contemporary says, "Mr. Justice +Bankes is noted for his pleasant appearance, and for the fact that he +has never been known to raise his voice." He does not, in fact, belong +to the firm of Bankes and Brays. + +* * * + +As a result of the War there is a famine in glass, and prices are +up nearly 100 per cent. Here surely is a Heaven-sent chance for the +Crystal Palace to turn itself into a financial success. + +* * * + +The strike of Billingsgate fish porters was, we hear, settled in the +nick of time. The men were just beginning to brush up their language. + + * * * * * + +_The Chicago Tribune_ as quoted in _The Sunday Times_:-- + + "'C'est incredible!' remarked the thorough Parisian." + +"Pas demi," we retort in our best London accent. + + * * * * * + + "The Secretary of the Admiralty makes the following announcement:-- + + Goods for his Majesty's ships which have hitherto been sent by mail, + addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dingwall,' should in future be + addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dngwall.'" + + _Scarborough Daily Post._ + +We obey reluctantly. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: HOCH AYE! + +SCENE: _A lonely part of the Scottish Coast._ + +_German Spy_ (_who has been signalling and suddenly notices that he is +being watched_). "NEIN! NEIN! NEVER SHALL YOU LAND ON MY BELOVED +SHCOTCHLAND!"] + + * * * * * + +A THOUSAND STRONG. + + A thousand strong, + With laugh and song, + To charge the guns or line a trench, + We marched away + One August day, + And fought beside the gallant French. + + A thousand strong, + But not for long; + Some lie entombed in Belgian clay; + Some torn by shell + Lie, where they fell, + Beneath the turf of La Bassée. + + But yet at night, + When to the fight + Eager from camp and trench we throng, + Our comrades dead + March at our head, + And still we charge, a thousand strong! + + * * * * * + +MOSES II. + +(_To the New Lord of Islam._) + + He led the Chosen People forth; + Over the Red Sea tramped their legions; + They wandered East, they wandered North + Through very vague and tedious regions, + Ploughing a lot of desolating sand + Before they struck the Promised Land. + + And you, who play so many parts, + And figure in such fancy poses, + Now, poring over Syrian charts, + Dressed for the character of MOSES, + In spirit lead your Turks, a happy band, + Bound for another Promised Land. + + Promises you have made before; + And doubtless your adopted Bosches + Deemed the Canal would lend its floor + To pass them through without goloshes, + As though it were a segment of the dry + Peninsula of Sinaï. + + And when they feared to lose their way + You answered them with ready wit: "Oh! + You'll have a pillar of cloud by day, + And through the night a fiery ditto, + But never said that these would be supplied + By airmen on the other side." + + Nor did you mention how the sun + Promotes a thirst in desert places, + Nor how their route was like to run + A little short of green oases, + Because the wells that glad the wanderer's sight + Have been removed by dynamite. + + Nor did you let the Faithful guess + That, on the Pentateuch's own showing, + Israel found the wilderness + Took forty years of steady going; + And after two-score summers, one would think, + Even a camel wants a drink. + + And you yourself, if still alive + And not transferred (we'll say?) to heaven, + Would by the date when they arrive + Have touched the age of 97, + And scarcely be in quite the best condition + To share their labour's full fruition. + + Come down, O fool, from Pisgah's heights, + Where, stung by Furies misbegotten, + You counterfeit Mosaic flights, + Aching for Egypt's corn and cotton; + Think how it makes the local fellah smile + To hear your _Watch upon the Nile!_ + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +The Scramble. + + "Near Bir Muhadata a British hydroplane dropped a bob on a Turkish + column, inflicting loss."--_Manchester Guardian._ + +In the mad rush made by the always unpaid Turkish troops to secure this +godsend, there were many casualties. + + * * * * * + +The Journalistic Touch. + + "This was on the morning of January 2, and Grall had had no food and + only a little water since the morning of December 31 _of the previous + year_.--Reuter."--_Daily Chronicle._ + +The italics represent our own endeavour to assist the picture. + + * * * * * + +GERMANY'S WAR STRENGTH. + +Dear _Mr. Punch_,--I cannot for the life of me understand why your +contemporaries should be in such difficulties over the above question +or how it is that they arrive at such diverse estimates. The elements +of the problem are perfectly straightforward. I worked it out on the +back of my ticket in the Tube last night, and as there can be no doubt +whatever about my conclusions I think they ought to be published. + +The present population of Germany for popular purposes (as they always +say) is 70,000,000. All the evidence goes to show that the war is still +popular in Germany, or parts of it, so we may accept that figure. Very +well. Of these, 33,000,000 are males. It seems a good many, but we +shall soon begin to whittle it down. By examining the figures of the +different "age groups" we find that fully five million of these are +under the age of seven and as quite a number are over sixty and others +are incapacitated--we have no space to enter into all these complicated +calculations here--we shall not be far wrong if we deduct at the outset +about 21,175,000 under these heads. This leaves us in round figures +twelve million. + +We now come to the question of losses up to date; and here we must +proceed with caution, for it is above all important to be on the safe +side. The present German losses are computed by the best authorities +at about two million, from all causes, up to 3 P.M. on the +13th ult. From this we must deduct, however, all those who, after being +wounded, have returned to the firing-line--say, half a million. Also +all those who, having been wounded a second time, have returned to the +front,--say, three hundred thousand. Also all those who have been three +times wounded and have still gone back to fight--say, fifty thousand. + +Then again we must remember those who have been invalided home and +recovered, and those who have been missing and are found again. And +there are the men who have been erroneously reported as prisoners, +owing to the Germans' incorrigible habit of exaggerating the number of +their own troops who have fallen into the enemy's hands. + +After all these deductions we may safely put the revised German losses +at 750,000. This should be taken off the twelve million eligible; but +it would, I think, be wise (in order to keep always on the safe side) +to add it on. This gives us 12,750,000. Very well. + +But the industries of the country must be carried on. There are the +railways, agriculture, mining. Let us say five million for these. There +are those great industries without which a nation cannot wage war; +for instance, the makers of Iron Crosses (100,000), the custodians of +ships retained in harbour (50,000), the printers of picture-postcards +(50,000), the writers of Hate-hymns, besides sundry makers of armaments +and things. + +Counting all those in and keeping on the safe side and dealing only +with round figures for popular purposes we may conclude that anything +from one to nine million must be deducted from our last figure to +arrive at a final estimate. + +To sum up, Germany's war strength cannot be more than three million or +less than eleven. This gives us a clear idea of what we have to face. + +I enclose my card in case you should think me an amateur, and have the +honour to remain, + + Yours faithfully, + STATISTICIAN. + + * * * * * + +_Men we do not introduce to the Duke of WESTMINSTER_ I.--The +German Minister of Finance: Dr. HELFFERICH. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE RETURN OF THE RAIDER. + +KAISER. "WELL, I _AM_ SURPRISED!" + +TIRPITZ. "SO WERE WE."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "YES, SIR, THESE ZEPPELIN RAIDS--WORDS CAN'T +DESCRIBE 'EM. THEY'RE--WELL, IF I MIGHT COIN A WORD, SIR--I THINK +THEY'RE 'ORRIBLE!"] + + * * * * * + +WAR COMPUNCTION. + +"I suppose we can't motor over to Potwick, lunch at 'The George,' and +play a round of golf?" said the Reverend Henry. + +"Not without feeling rather--well, rotters and outsiders," said +Sinclair regretfully. + +"At least we couldn't of course go in the big car," said I, "and we +should be almost bound to have lunch at that little tea-shop, and it +wouldn't do to play a whole round of golf." + +"It is rather a nice point," said Henry, "what one can do in War +time without feeling that one is stamping oneself. Sinclair here was +shooting pheasants a fortnight ago." + +"Well, the birds were _there_, you know," said Sinclair, "and it's a +rotten slow business catching them in traps. Besides, we sent them all +to the Red Cross people." + +"The weak spot about golf," said the Reverend Henry, "is that there's +no way of sending the results to the Red Cross. There's really no other +earthly reason why one shouldn't play. There's every reason why one +should, but----" + +"I haven't played since the War began," said I. + +"Nor I. But I have a notion that if one played without caddies and with +old balls----" + +"Or got a refugee for a caddy and grossly overpaid him," Henry put in +hopefully. + +"I know what you want, Sinclair," said I. "I know perfectly well +what you want. You would like to play golf, but you wouldn't feel +comfortable unless you had a notice pinned to your back in some such +terms as these--'THIS MAN, THOUGH HE MAY NOT LOOK IT, IS OVER 38; +HE IS ALSO MEDICALLY UNFIT. HE HAS TWO BROTHERS AND A NEPHEW AT THE +FRONT. HE HAS MORE THAN ONCE TAKEN THE CHAIR AT RECRUITING MEETINGS AND +HE IS ENTERTAINING SEVEN BELGIANS. HE HAS ALREADY SENT THREE SWEATERS +AND A PAIR OF SKI SOCKS TO THE FLEET. THIS IS THE FIRST HOLIDAY HE HAS +HAD FOR THREE MONTHS, AND HE IS NOW PLAYING A ROUND OF GOLF.' Then +you would feel all right." + +"Yes, in your case, Sinclair, it is merely moral cowardice," said +Henry. "But it's queer about golf. Every one admits that billiards is +all right, and--I think--Badminton." + +"Well, perhaps I am a bit over-sensitive," said I, "but I'm bound to +say that even if I were playing billiards in a public place at present +I should feel happier if I used the butt end of the cue." + +"The problem seems to be closely allied," said the Reverend Henry, "to +the problem of Sabbath observance when I was a child. We were very +strict in our household. We were not allowed to play games of any sort +on Sunday so long as they were played according to the accepted rules; +but we discovered after a time that if we played them _wrong_ no one +objected. We should certainly have been punished for playing tennis +with a tennis racquet, but if we played with a walking-stick or the +flat side of a pair of bellows there was not the slightest objection." + +"That's what I feel like," said Sinclair. "I don't want to do the old +things in the old ways." + +"We never have people to dinner now," said I, "but we have shoals to +lunch." + +"It is all deplorably illogical," said the Reverend Henry. "But so long +as one has a sense of decency it seems impossible to scorch about in a +motor bulging with golf clubs." + +"Quite impossible. I propose that we get Mrs. Henry to make us some +sandwiches and go for a long walk." + +It was at this juncture that the morning papers came in with the news +of the battle cruiser victory in the North Sea.... We had a fine run +across the moor in the big car, an excellent lunch at "The George," and +managed to get in two rounds before it was dark. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OUR SPECIAL VOLUNTEER RESERVES. + +_Instructor._ "CHANGE ARMS BY NUMBERS. ONE--TWO----COME ALONG, SIR! +WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT NOW? KEEP YOUR BANJO SOLO FOR THE DOMESTIC +HEARTH."] + + * * * * * + +ON THE SPY TRAIL. + +II. + +People don't always know that Jimmy's dog is a bloodhound. One man +said it was a Great Scott--at least that is what he said when he saw +it. You see, when it is pensive, it sometimes looks like a spaniel and +sometimes like an Airedale--or it would if it hadn't got smooth hair +and a bushy tail which curls. Jimmy was undecided for a long time what +to call it. + +The milkman said Jimmy ought to call it "For instance," and then people +would know what it was for. The milkman thought of a lot more names +before a week was over, for Jimmy's bloodhound tracked down a can of +his milk and lapped it up. It is a very good lapper. It lapped so hard +that Jimmy had to pull the can off its head. Jimmy said it was the +suction and that all good bloodhounds were like that. + +A man stopped Jimmy in the street and asked him if that was the dog +that tracked down the German spy to his lair. Jimmy said it was, and +the man was very pleased: he patted the bloodhound on the head and +said, "Good old Faithful!"--just like that. + +Jimmy showed him the pork-butcher's shop where he did it, and the +man said if Jimmy would wait a minute he would go and buy the dog +some German fruit. Jimmy said the man bought a large kind of sausage +which had a red husk. He then stooped down and said, "Good old chap, +I confer upon you the Order of the Faithful Sausage, 1st class, and +if you catch another German spy I'll give you a season ticket." When +Jimmy's bloodhound saw the red sausage he began to bay, and he hurled +himself upon it with much vigour, Jimmy says. The man watched Jimmy's +bloodhound working, and he said, "_Magna est fidelitas et prevalebit_," +which he said meant that "Old Faithful would down the Germans every +time." + +Jimmy calls his bloodhound Faithful now, and he is keener than ever on +catching another German spy. + +Jimmy says he thought he was on the track of one the other day. He +was walking down a road when suddenly Faithful began straining at the +leash, as if he scented one. But it wasn't a German after all; it was a +goat. It was in a field. Jimmy said he made sure it was a German until +he saw it. + +The goat was having its tea on the far side of the field. Jimmy hadn't +seen the goat before, so he loosed Faithful at it. Faithful bounded +towards the goat very hard at first, and then stopped and began to +deploy. + +Jimmy said the goat was very surprised when it saw Faithful and jumped +three feet into the air all at once. Jimmy says Faithful makes things +do like that. You see Faithful was crawling hand over hand towards it +on the grass, and the goat looked as if it expected Faithful to go off +suddenly. + +Then the goat said "Yes! Yes!" several times with its head and began to +moo. + +Jimmy said the goat must have been winding up the starting handle, for +it suddenly slipped in the clutch and got into top gear in five yards. +It was a flexible goat, Jimmy says. Faithful is a good runner; it has a +kind of side-stroke action when it runs fast, and this puzzled the goat +and made it skid a bit on the grass. + +Jimmy sat on the gate and watched them. After five times round the +field the goat sat down and looked nonplussed. + +Jimmy knows all about goats; he knows what to do with them, and he +showed me. He got it so tame that it would feed out of your hand. It +ate half a newspaper one day and it made it very fiery. Jimmy said it +was the War news. We were trying to harness it to a perambulator Jimmy +had borrowed. Jimmy said it had to have a bell on its neck so that +people would know it was coming, just like the Alps. + +Jimmy said goats could jump from one Alp to the other, and they always +did that in Switzerland and it sounded very pretty in the evening. + +I hadn't got a little bell that tinkled so I brought the dinner bell, +and we tied it on to the goat's neck with a rope. Jimmy said it would +make the goat feel glad. + +It took us a long time to harness the goat properly because it was +so fidgety. There wasn't much room in the cart, but we both managed +to squeeze in, and Faithful ran on in front. The goat doesn't like +Faithful; it has an aversion to him when he bays. Faithful knew the +goat was coming after him because he could hear the bell. + +There was more room for Jimmy when I fell out, but Faithful kept +straight in the middle of the road doing the side-stroke as hard as he +could with both hands. I could hear the bell. Jimmy said a horse and +trap climbed over the hedge to let them pass. The man in the trap said +something to Jimmy, but Jimmy couldn't catch what he said; it was such +a long sentence. Jimmy said they went into an ironmonger's shop, all +of them. Faithful got there first. He deployed amongst some buckets +which were outside the shop. So did the goat. The noise disturbed the +ironmonger. He took his wife and children into the cellar. Jimmy said +it was the noise that did it, and the goat's face. + +The ironmonger's wife told Jimmy she had had a shock; she spoke to him +out of the cellar window. Jimmy says she had a catch in her breath. + +The goat didn't go back to the field very quickly; it was because one +of the wheels was bent and the goat seemed to have caught a hiccough. +That was because it ran so fast after eating the newspaper, Jimmy says. +He says all goats are like that. + +The goat won't eat out of Jimmy's hand now; whenever it sees Jimmy it +tries to climb a tree. A boy told Jimmy that the man who owns the goat +is concerned about it, so Jimmy goes hunting German spies with Faithful +down another road now. + + * * * * * + +The Two Blüchers. + + A century since, joy filled our cup + To hear of BLÃœCHER "coming up"; + To-day joy echoes round the town + To hear of _Blücher_ going down. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: IN ORDER THAT NO POSSIBLE MEANS OF INJURING ENGLAND +MAY BE NEGLECTED, IT IS UNDERSTOOD THAT THE GERMAN PROFESSORS OF +NECROMANCY AND WITCHCRAFT HAVE BEEN REQUESTED TO MAKE THE BEST USE OF +THEIR MAGICAL POWERS.] + + * * * * * + +ZEPPELIN DRILL. + +I had often seen the little lady at No. 4, but it is only lately that I +have discovered that there is in her the makings of a General. + +We found out about her strategic dispositions in a roundabout way. Her +maid told the milkman, and in the course of nature the news came to us. +Every night her maid carries into her room a fur coat, a large pair of +boots and a coal-scuttle. + +It is, of course, her preparation to meet a Zeppelin attack. + +Everybody is getting ready. Bulpitt's wife's mother, for +example--Bulpitt is my next-door neighbour--is making him dig a +bomb-proof hole in the garden. Bulpitt thought there might be some +difficulty about getting her into it. I pointed out that there would be +more difficulty in getting her out--the hole is very deep. He said he +didn't worry about that. + +Two nights later we had a scare. Every light went out along the +road and people were doing all kinds of safe things. It turned out +afterwards that Stewart was testing his family Zeppelin drill, and +fired three shots to make it realistic. His wife then put the baby +in the copper with the lid one inch open. She herself stood beside a +certain wall which, according to Stewart, could not be knocked down +because of the stresses and strains that would be set up. + +That was all very well for him; the only thing that went wrong was +that a little water had been left in the copper. But what about poor +Johnson, who had to pile all the mattresses in the coal-cellar? He was +awfully black and angry when he found out. + +And what about Carruthers, who emptied a fire-pail on the drawing-room +fire, and had to explain a long muddy pool to his wife, who is rather +deaf and hadn't heard the shots? + +As for Bulpitt's wife's mother, she was in the pit for over an hour +before we hauled her out. The first time we got her to the surface +she gasped out, quite smilingly, "Now I know what it's like in the +tren----" and then she slipped back with an oozy thud. The second time +she said, "I don't think they'll come ag----" The third time she said, +"I don't care if the Zeppel----" And when we did get her out she said +nothing at all, and I was sorry for Bulpitt. + +Amidst all these scenes of confusion little Miss Agatha at No. 4 stood +at attention in a fur overcoat and a big pair of boots that would +easily slip on, with a coal-scuttle on her head to keep off bombs. She +stood there warm, safe, and respectably clad, waiting till the house +crashed about her and the time came to save herself. + +I hate to think of the Zeppelins coming; but if they do come I +hope--how I hope!--I shall be near No. 4 to see the indomitable little +lady emerge. + + * * * * * + +TEMPORA MUTANTUR. + + In WALPOLE'S time, not over nice, + Each man was said to have his price; + We've changed since then; + For, if my daughter's word is fact, + The world to-day is simply packed + With "priceless" men. + + * * * * * + +Journalistic Candour. + + "When a court-martial was opened for the trial of two sergeants at + Woolwich yesterday one of the officers questioned the right of a + reporter to be present.... The reporter was told to leave, which he + did, after protesting that an official shorthand note was an entirely + different thing from a newspaper report."--_Daily Chronicle._ + + * * * * * + +A LETTER TO THE FRONT. + +Mrs. Jeremy looked up from her knitting. "I want you to do something +for me," she said to her husband. + +"Anything except sing," said Jeremy lazily. + +"It's just to write a letter." + +"My dear, of course. _The Complete Letter-writer_, by J. P. Smith. +Chapter V--'Stiff Notes to Landlords'--shows Mr. Smith at his best. +'Gossipy Budgets, and should they be crossed?'--see Chapter VI. Bless +you, I can write to _anybody._" + +"This is to a man you've never met. He's a private at the Front and his +name is Mackinnon." + +"'Dear Mr. Mackinnon'--that's how I should begin. Do we want to say +anything particular, or are we just trying the new notepaper?" + +Mrs. Jeremy put down her work and gave herself up to explanation. +Private Mackinnon was in a school friend's husband's regiment, and he +never got any letters or parcels from anybody, and the friend's husband +had asked his wife to ask her friends---- + +"Wait a bit," said Jeremy. "We shall want the College of Heralds in +this directly." He took out his pencil and drew up a pedigree:-- + + School. + | + +-------+------+ + | | + J.P.S.=Mrs. J. Friend=Officer. + | + Regiment. + | + +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ + | | | | | | | | | + Mackinnon. + +"There you are. Now _you_ think it's J. P. S.'s turn to write to +Mackinnon." He drew a line from one to the other. "Very well; I shall +tell him about the old school." + +"You do see, don't you?" said Mrs. Jeremy. "All the others get letters +and things from their friends, and poor Mr. Mackinnon gets nothing. +Katharine wants to get up a surprise for him, and she's asking +half-a-dozen of her friends to send him things and write him jolly +letters." She picked up the muffler she had been knitting. "This is for +him, and I said you'd do the letter. You write such jolly ones." + +Jeremy threw away the end of his cigar and got up. + +"Yes, but what about?" he said, running his hand through his hair. +"This is going to be very difficult." + +"Oh, just one of your nice funny letters like you write to me." + +"Quite like that?" said Jeremy earnestly. + +"Well, not quite like that," smiled Mrs. Jeremy; "but you know what I +mean. He'd love it." + +"Very well," said Jeremy, "we'll see what we can do." + +He withdrew to his library and got to work. + +"_My dear Mr. Mackinnon_," he wrote, "_the weather here is perfectly +beastly_." + +He looked at it thoughtfully and then put it on one side. "We won't +destroy it," he said to himself, "because we may have to come back to +it, but at present we don't like it." + +He began another sheet of paper. + +"_My dear Mackinnon, who do you think it is? Your old friend Jeremy +Smith!_" + +He murmured it to himself three or four times, crossed out "old" and +put "new," and then placed this sheet on the top of the other. + +"_My dear Mackinnon, yesterday the Vicar_----" + +"I knew it would be difficult," he said, and took a fourth sheet. +Absently he began to jot down a few possible openings:-- + +"_I am a Special Constable ..._" + +"_Have you read Mrs. Humphry Ward's latest ..._" + +"_I hope the War won't last long ..._" + +"Yes," he said, "but we're not being really funny enough." + +He collected his letters as far as they had gone and took them to his +wife. + +"You see what will happen, darling," he said. "Mr. Mackinnon will read +them, and he will say to himself, 'There's a man called Jeremy P. Smith +who is a fool.' The news will travel down the line. They will tell +themselves in Alsace that J. P. Smith, the Treasurer of the Little +Blessington Cricket Club, is lacking in grey matter. The story will get +across to the Germans in some garbled form; 'Smith off crumpet,' or +something of that sort. It will reach the Grand Duke NICHOLAS; +it will traverse the neutral countries; everywhere the word will be +spread that your husband is, as they say, barmy. I ask you, dear--is it +fair to Baby?" + +Mrs. Jeremy crumpled up the sheets and threw them in the fire. + +"Oh, Jeremy," she said, "you could do it so easily if you wanted to. If +you only said, 'Thank you for being so brave,' it would be something." + +"But you said it had to be a 'jolly' one." + +"Yes, that was silly of me. I didn't mean that. Just write what you +want to write--never mind about what I said." + +"Oh, but that's easy," said Jeremy with great relief; "I can do that on +my head." + +And this was the letter (whether he wrote it on his head or not I +cannot say):-- + +"MY DEAR MR. MACKINNON,--You are not married, I believe, but +perhaps you will be some day when the War is over. You will then get +to know of a very maddening trick which wives have. You hand them a +letter over the coffee-pot beginning, 'Dear Smith, I saw a little +water-colour of yours in the Academy and admired it very much. The +what-do-you-call-it is so well done, and I like that broad effect. +Please accept an earldom,'--but, before they read any of it at all, +they turn to the signature at the end and say, 'Why, Jeremy, it's from +the KING!' And then all your beautiful surprise is gone. + +"Now I don't mention this in order to put you off marriage, because +there is a lot more in it than letters over the coffee-pot, and all the +rest is delightful. But I want to tell you that, if (as I expect) you +are keeping the signature of this letter for the surprise, you will be +disappointed. I am sorry about it. I tried various signatures with a +surprise to them (you would have liked my 'Hall Caine,' I think), but I +decided that I had best stick to the one I have used for so many years, +'J. P. Smith.' It will make you ask that always depressing question, +'Who is J. P. Smith?' but this I cannot help. Besides, I want to tell +you who he is. + +"An hour ago he was sitting in front of a fire of logs, smoking a +cigar. He had just finished dinner, so good a dinner that he was +congratulating his wife on it as she sat knitting on the other side of +the fire. If he had a complaint to make at all, it was perhaps that the +fire was a little too hot; perhaps when he went upstairs he would find +that a little too hot also was the bottle in his bed. One has these +hardships to face. To complete the picture, I ask you to imagine a door +closed rather noisily kitchenwards, and an exclamation of annoyance +from Mr. Smith. He passes it off by explaining that he was thinking of +the baby rather than of himself. + +"Well, there you have this J. P. Smith person ... and at the same hour +what was this man Mackinnon doing? I don't know; you do. But perhaps +you will understand now why I want to say 'Thank you.' I know what you +will answer: 'Good Lord, I'm only doing my job, I don't want to be +_kissed_ for it.' My dear Mackinnon, you don't understand. I am not +very kindly writing to you; you are very kindly letting me write. This +is _my_ birthday, not yours. I give myself the pleasure of thanking +you; as a gentleman you cannot refuse it to me. + +"Yours gratefully, J. P. SMITH." + +"You dear," said Mrs. Jeremy. "He'll simply love it." + +Jeremy grunted. + +"If I were Mackinnon," he said, "I should prefer the muffler." + + A.A.M. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE "KULTUR" CUT. + +THERE IS A STRONG PATRIOTIC MOVEMENT IN GERMANY TOWARDS A NATIONAL +IDEAL IN TAILORINGS.] + + * * * * * + +BEASTS AND SUPERBEASTS. + + [_A German zoologist has discovered in German New Guinea a new kind + of opossum to which he proposes to give the name of_ Dactylopsila + Hindenburgi.] + + At the Annual Convention of the Fishes, Birds and Beasts, + Which opened with the usual invigorating feasts, + The attention of the delegates of feather, fur and fin + Was focussed on a wonderful proposal from Berlin. + + The document suggested that, to signalise the feats + Of the noble German armies and the splendid German fleets, + Certain highly honoured species, in virtue of their claims, + Should be privileged in future to adopt Germanic names. + + To judge by the resultant din, the screams and roars and cries, + The birds were most ungrateful and the quadrupeds likewise; + And the violence with which they "voiced" their angry discontent + Was worthy of a thoroughbred Hungarian Parliament. + + The centipede declared he'd sooner lose a dozen legs + Than wear a patronymic defiled by human dregs; + And sentiments identical, in voices hoarse with woe, + Were emitted by the polecat and by the carrion crow. + + The rattlesnake predicted that his rattle would be cracked + Before the name _Bernhardii_ on to his tail was tacked; + And an elderly hyæna, famed for gluttony and greed, + Denounced the suffix _Klucki_ as an insult to its breed. + + Most impressive and pathetic was the anguish of the toad + When he found the name _Lissaueri_ had on him been bestowed; + And a fine man-eating tiger said he'd sooner feed with SHAW + Than allow the title _Treitschkei_ to desecrate his jaw. + + But this memorable meeting was not destined to disperse + Without a tragedy too great for humble human verse; + For, on hearing that _Wilhelmi_ had to his name been tied, + The skunk, in desperation, committed suicide. + + * * * * * + +Count REVENTLOW in the _Deutsche Tageszeitung_:-- + + "It is an established fact that when our airships were, in order + to fly to the fortified place of Great Yarmouth, merely flying + over other places or cities, they were shot at from these places. + It may be assumed with certainty that these shots, which were + aimed at the airships from below, hit them, and probably they + wounded or even killed occupants of the airships. This involves an + English franc-tireur attack, ruthlessly carried out in defiance of + International Law and in the darkness of the night, upon the German + airships, which, without the smallest hostile action, wanted to fly + away over these places.... + + The airship is a recognised weapon of war, and yet people in England + seem to demand that it shall regard itself as fair game for the + murders performed by a fanatical civil population, and shall not have + the right to defend itself." + +By the offer of a princely salary, _Mr. Punch_ has tried to tempt Count +REVENTLOW to join the staff in Bouverie Street. In vain. As +the chief humorist of Central Europe he feels that his services are +indispensable to the Fatherland. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "OH, MOTHER! HOW I WISH I WAS AN ANGEL!" + +"DARLING! WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT?" + +"OH, BECAUSE THEN, MOTHER, I COULD DROP BOMBS ON THE GERMANS."] + + * * * * * + +OVERWORK. + +The poets having indicated that they were going to take a few moments +off, the words were free to stand at ease also. They did so with a +great sigh of relief, especially one whom I recognised by his intense +weariness and also by the martial glow on his features, his muddied and +torn clothes and the bandage round his head. + +"You're 'war,'" I said, crossing over to speak to him. + +"Yes," he replied, "I'm 'war,' and I'm very tired." + +"They're sweating you?" I asked. + +"Horribly," he replied. "In whatever they're writing about just now, +both poets and song-writers, they drag me in, and they will end lines +with me. Just to occur somewhere and be done with I shouldn't so much +mind; but they feel in honour bound to provide me with a rhyme. Still," +he added meditatively, "there are compensations." + +"How?" I asked. + +"Well," he said, "I find myself with more congenial companions than I +used to have. In the old days, when I wasn't sung at all, but was used +more or less academically, I often found myself arm-in-arm with 'star' +or 'far' or 'scar,' and I never really got on with them. We didn't +agree. There was something wrong. But now I get better associates; +'roar,' for example, is a certainty in one verse. In fact I don't mind +admitting I'm rather tired of 'roar,' true friends as we are. + +"But I can see the poor young poetical fellows' difficulty; and, after +all, I do roar, don't I? Just as my old friend 'battle' here"--I bowed +to his companion--"is attached to 'rattle.' + +"Of course," he went on, "I'm luckier than 'battle' really, because +I do get a few other fellows to walk with, such as 'corps'--very +often--and 'before' and--far too often--'gore'; but 'battle' is tied up +to 'rattle' for the rest of his life. They're inseparable--'battle' and +'rattle.' Directly you see one you know that the other is only a few +words away. We call them the Siamese Twins." + +I laughed sympathetically. + +"There's 'cattle,'" I said, remembering 'The War-song of Dinas Vawr.' + +"No use just now," said 'war.' "'Rattle' is the only rhyme at the +moment; just as General FRENCH has his favourite one, and +that's 'trench.' If 'battle' and 'rattle' are like the Siamese Twins, +'FRENCH' and 'trench' are like Castor and Pollux. Now and +then the COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF makes the enemy 'blench,' but for +one 'blench' you get a thousand 'trenches.' No, I feel very sorry, I +can tell you, for some of these words condemned to such a monotony of +conjunction; and really I oughtn't to complain. And to have got rid of +'star' is something." + +I shook him by the hand. + +"But there's one thing," he added, "I do object to, which not even +poor old 'battle' has to bear, and that's being forced to march with a +rhyme that isn't all there. I have to do that far too often; and it's +annoying." + +I asked him to explain. + +"Well," he said, "those poets who look forward are too fond of linking +me to 'o'er'--'when it's 'o'er,' don't you know (they mean 'over'). +That's a little humiliating, I always think. You wouldn't like +constantly going about with a man who'd lost his collar, would you?" + +I said that I shouldn't. + +"Well, it's like that," he said, "I am not sure that I would not prefer +'star' to that, or 'scar,' after all. They, at any rate, meant well and +were gentlemanly. But 'o'er'? No. + + * * * * * + +The new book for schools: "Kaiser: De Bello Jellicoe." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WHO FORBIDS THE BANDS? + +["A band revives memories, it quickens association, it opens and unites +the hearts of men more surely than any other appeal can, and in this +respect it aids recruiting perhaps more than any other agency."--_Mr. +RUDYARD KIPLING at the Mansion House meeting promoted by the +Recruiting Bands Committee._]] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Recruit_ (_speaking of his late employer_). "AN' 'E +SAYS TO ME, 'IT WANTS A COAL-HAMMER TO KNOCK IT INTO YOUR 'EAD.'" + +_Friend._ "DID 'E SAY THAT?" + +_Recruit._ "YES, 'E DID. BUT I LET 'IM 'AVE IT BACK. I SAYS, 'IT +'UD BLOOMING WELL TAKE MORE THAN YOU TO DO IT!'"] + + * * * * * + +THE AMATEUR POLICEMAN. + + Friend Robert, if mere imitation + Expresses one's deepest regard, + How oft has such dumb adoration + Been shown on his beat by your bard; + In dress, though the semblance seems hollow, + How oft since my duties began + Have I striven, poor "special," to follow + The modes of the Man. + + I have aped till my muscles grew rigid + Your air of Olympian calm; + Have sought, when my framework was frigid, + To "stand" it _sans_ quiver or qualm; + I have also endeavoured to copy + The stealthiest thud of your boot; + And, with features as pink as a poppy, + Your solemn salute. + + In vain. Every effort is futile, + And, while I am "doing my share" + To guard (after midnight) a mute isle, + Or the bit of it close by my lair, + 'Tis perfectly plain that, although it + Is easy to offer one's aid, + The P.C., alas! like the poet, + Is born and not made. + + * * * * * + +THE UNLIKELY DUKE. + +The proposal, made the other day at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank +at Birmingham, that a dukedom should be conferred upon Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE, in recognition of his skilful handling of the financial +crisis, has aroused intense interest both in Park Lane and in the Welsh +valleys. + +Even among certain of the right honourable gentleman's colleagues in +the Cabinet the idea meets with warm approval. + +There has not yet been a meeting of Dukes to consider how to deal with +any situation that may arise; but there is little doubt that their +Graces are keeping a keen look-out, and it may be expected that when +the time comes their plans will be found to be more or less complete. + +Down in Wales there is considerable rivalry already concerning the +title the CHANCELLOR should take. A strong local committee +is being formed at Criccieth to urge the claims of that delightful +resort; but it may expect to receive strenuous opposition from the +people of Llanpwllwynbrynogrhos, who argue that, while Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE'S connection with their village may be slight, it would be +highly desirable that there should exist the obstacle of such a name +whenever the new Duke's fellow Dukes wished to refer to him. + +Since it was at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank that the idea was put +forward, we are inclined to think that whenever a title is required the +CHANCELLOR might select the "Duke of Lloyds;" and on the other +hand, of course, a bank professing such admiration for Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE could not pay a prettier compliment than by styling itself +"LLOYD GEORGE'S Bank." + +We profoundly hope that there may be no truth in the ugly rumour that +one of the CHANCELLOR'S servants, who has been in the family +for many years and imbibed its principles, has declared emphatically +that it would be against her principles to serve in a ducal household. + +Needless to say there has been a flutter among estate agents. Already +vast tracts of deer-forest in Scotland have been offered at astonishing +terms to the proposed Duke, and these not only comprise some of the +finest scenery in the British Isles, but afford opportunity for +thoroughly interesting agricultural development. + +Mr. LLOYD GEORGE'S own views on the whole subject were uttered +in Welsh, and we have no doubt our readers will quite understand that +they cannot be printed here. + + * * * * * + +Our Dumb Friends. + +The tradition of strong language established by our armies in Flanders +seems to be well kept up to-day, if we may judge by the following Army +Order issued at the Front:-- + + "Though on occasion it is necessary to tie horses to trees, this + should be avoided whenever possible, as they are sure to bark and thus + destroy the trees." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Patriotic Old Person_ (_to individual bespattered by +passing motor-bus_). "THERE, YOUNG FELLER! IT'D NEVER 'AVE BIN +NOTICED IF YOU'D BIN IN KHAKI!"] + + * * * * * + +A TERRITORIAL IN INDIA. + +III. + +My dear _Mr. Punch_,--Although, being no longer a soldier in anything +but name (and pay), I pursue in India the inglorious vocation of a +clerk, I am nevertheless still in a position to perceive the splendid +qualities of the British Officer. Always a humble admirer of his skill +and bravery in the field, I have now in addition a keen appreciation of +his imperturbable _sangfroid_ when confronted with conditions of great +difficulty in the office. + +I am working in the Banana (to circumvent the Censor I am giving it an +obviously fictitious name) Divisional Area Headquarters Staff Office, +which is situated in the town of ----. Suppose we call it Mango. There +are four brigades in the Banana Divisional Area, one of which is the +Mango Brigade. Now it so happens that the General Officer Commanding +the Banana Divisional Area is at present also the General Officer +Commanding the Mango Brigade; consequently this is the sort of thing +which is always happening. The G.O.C. of the Mango Brigade writes to +himself as G.O.C. of the Banana Divisional Area: "May I request the +favour of a reply to my Memorandum No. 25731/24/Mobn., dated the 3rd +January, 1915, relating to paragraph 5 of Army Department letter No. +S.M.--43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, which amplifies +the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. XXIII.?" +Next morning he goes into the Divisional Office and finds himself +confronted by this letter. A mere civilian might be tempted to take a +mean advantage of his unusual situation. Not so the British Officer. +The dignified traditions of the Indian Army must not lightly be set +aside. The G.O.C. of the Brigade and the G.O.C. of the Divisional Area +must be as strangers for the purposes of official correspondence. + +So he writes back to himself:--"Your reference to Army Department +letter No. S.M.--43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, +is not understood. May I presume that you allude to Army Department +letter No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914, which +deals with the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. +XXIII.?" + +Later on he goes to the Brigade Office and writes--"... I would +respectfully point out that Army Department letter No. S.M.--43822/19 +(A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, cancels Army Department letter +No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914." + +At his next visit to the Divisional Office he writes back again:--"... +Army Department letter No. S.M.--43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th +December, 1914, does not appear to have been received in this office. +Will you be so good as to favour me with a copy?" + +So it goes on, and our dual G.O.C., like the gallant soldier he is, +never flinches from his duty, never swerves by a hair's-breadth from +his difficult course. This surely is the spirit which has made the +Empire. + +But I expect you are weary of this subject. Still, you must please not +forget that we are officially on active service, and active service +means perhaps more than you people at home imagine. Last Sunday, after +tiffin, I came upon one of my colleagues lounging in an easy-chair, one +of those with practical extensions upon which you can stretch your legs +luxuriously. With a cigarette between his lips and an iced drink beside +him, he sat reading a magazine--a striking illustration of the fine +resourcefulness of the Territorials in adapting themselves to novel +conditions. + +"What I object to about active service," he said, as I came up, "is the +awful hardship we have to put up with. When we were mobilised I didn't +anticipate that our path would be exactly strewn with roses, but I +confess I never expected this. I shall write to _The Times_. The public +ought to know about it;" and he settled himself more deeply into his +chair, blew out a cloud of smoke, and with a resolute expression sipped +his iced lemonade. + +_Mr. Punch_, you will be pained to hear that I have lost my hard-earned +reputation for sobriety through no fault of my own. A few days ago I +went up to the barracks to draw my regimental pay, and found that a +number of articles of clothing, issued by the Army authorities, had +accumulated for me during my absence--a pair of khaki shorts, a grey +flannel shirt with steel buttons the size of sixpences, a pair of +worsted socks and three sheets (yes, sheets for the bed; so luxuriously +do we fare in India). Perhaps you can guess what happened. + +"Oh, by the way, have you drawn your clothing?" asked the Lieutenant, +when he had paid me. + +"Yes, Sir," I replied. + +"What have you got?" + +"Sheets, shirt, shorts and shocks--shots, sheeks and shirks----" + +"That will do," he interrupted sternly. "You had better come to me +again when you are in a condition to express yourself clearly." + +Thus easily is a reputation acquired by years of self-control destroyed +by the pitfalls of our native tongue. + +On the other hand, some people have enviable reputations thrust upon +them. This is the case with my friend, Private Walls. The other night, +half of what remains of the Battalion were called out to repel an +expected attack on the barracks by the other half. Walls chanced to be +placed in a rather isolated position, and, armed with six rounds of +blank, he took cover behind a large boulder, after receiving whispered +orders from his officer not to fire if he suspected the approach of the +enemy, but to low like an ox, when assistance would immediately be sent +to him. + +Though a little diffident of his powers of lowing, Walls determined to +do his best, and fell sound asleep. + +Now, if you or I had been in his position, an officer would certainly +have discovered us in no time, and dire punishment would have +followed. But Walls slumbered on undisturbed, until a terrific roar in +his ear caused him to wake with a start. What had happened? He seized +his rifle and peered into the darkness. Then, to his amazement, he saw +the boulder before him rise to its feet and shamble off into the night. +It was an ox, and it had lowed! + +You might think his luck finished there. But no. The officer and his +men came stealthily up, and Walls unblushingly declared that he had +heard the foe approaching. It may sound incredible, but it is a fact +that a few minutes later the enemy did actually appear, and were, of +course, driven back after the customary decimation. + +And Walls unhesitatingly accepted the congratulations of his superior +on his vigilance, and did not even blench when assured that his was the +finest imitation ever heard of the lowing of an ox. + + Yours ever, + ONE OF THE _PUNCH_ BRIGADE. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Officer._ "DIDN'T I TELL YER 'E WAS NO GOOD? LOOK +AT 'IM--PLAYIN' FOOTBALL WHEN US FELLERS IS DRILLIN'!"] + + * * * * * + + "The German resistance is formidable but the allies' artillery has + forced the enemy to retire from some trenches abandinging prisoners, + dead, and wounded."--_Buenos Aires Standard._ + +This gives the lie to the many stories of German callousness that we +hear. + + * * * * * + +TURNS OF THE DAY. + + [_A fifteen-minutes' speech on affairs by a public man has been added + to the programme of the Empire music-hall._] + +There is no truth that the late Viceroy of IRELAND is to +appear at the Alhambra in a brief address, explaining why he chose the +title of "Tara." + +All efforts to induce Mr. MASTERMAN to appear at the Holborn +Empire next week in a burlesque of _The Seats of the Mighty_ have +failed. + +Great pressure is being brought to bear upon Mr. BERNARD SHAW +to induce him to add gaiety to the Palladium programme next week by a +twenty-minutes' exposure of England's folly, hypocrisy, fatuity and +crime, a subject on which he knows even more than is to be known. + +Up to the present moment Mr. H. G. WELLS has refused all +offers to appear at the Palace in the song from _Patience_, "When I +first put this uniform on." + +Any statement that Mr. EDMUND GOSSE is to appear at the +Coliseum at every performance next week, in a little sketch entitled +_Swinging the Censor_, is to be taken with salt. + +A similar incredulity should probably be adopted in regard to the +alluring rumour that Mr. COMPTON MACKENZIE will also contribute at +the same house a nightly telephonic sketch from Capri, "_What Tiberius +thinks of 'Sinister Street.'_" + +Negotiations are still pending, though with little chance of success, +between the management of the Hippodrome and Canon RAWNSLEY, +with a view to his giving a brief address nightly on the subject "How +to write a War sonnet in ten minutes." + +We have good reason to fear that, in spite of reiterated announcements +of their engagement, Mr. MAX PEMBERTON and Mr. MAX BEERBOHM will not +appear on Valentine's Day, and subsequently, at the Chiswick Empire +in a topical War duologue as "The Two Max." + + * * * * * + +Omar Khayyam on the North Sea battle. + + They say the _Lion_ and the _Tiger_ sweep + Where once the Huns shelled babies from the deep, + And _Blücher_, that great cruiser--12-inch guns + Roar o'er his head but cannot break his sleep. + + * * * * * + +YUSSUF. + +"Look here," exclaimed the latest subaltern, hurling himself at the +remains of the breakfast, "those rotters have sent me a putrid sword!" + +"A putrid sword, dear?" his mother repeated. + +"Yes, confound them!" + +"I don't see why you want a sword at all," Dolly chipped in. "Captain +Jones says the big guns are the only weapons that count." + +"And how will Archie toast his crumpets?" retorted Henry. + +"Oh, shut up, you kids! I say, do you mind having a look at it?" The +latest subaltern was actually appealing to me. I stifled a blush, and +thought I should like to, very much. + +After breakfast Archibald and myself retired to the armoury. + +"There!" he exclaimed indignantly. "What do you think of that?" It was +lying on the bed with a black-and-gold hilt and a wonderful nickel +scabbard with gilt blobs at the top. I looked at it. + +"Well," I ventured, "it's a sword." + +Archibald sniffed. + +"And," I continued hastily, "it's very nice. Perhaps they've run out of +the ordinary ones. Does it cut?" + +He drew it, and I, assuming the air of a barber's assistant, felt its +edge. + +"Of course," I remarked, "I don't know much about it, but if there _is_ +anything left to cut when you go out I think it should be stropped a +bit first." + +"Well," said the proud owner, "I ordered it at Slashers', and they +ought to know. Suppose we rub it up on young Henry's emery wheel?" + +"Wait a minute," I cried; "I should like to see it on." + +Archibald buckled on the scabbard and I slapped the trusty blade home. + +It certainly looked a bit odd. I surveyed it in profile. + +"No!" I exclaimed, "there is something about it ... a Yussuf air ... +that little bend at the tip is reminiscent of Turkestan." + +We found Henry in the workshop. + +"My fairy godmother," he shouted, "did you pinch it from the pantomime?" + +We did not deign to reply. Gingerly, very gingerly, we applied Yussuf +to the emery wheel.... Little flakes came off him--just little flakes. + +It was very distressing. + +The gardener joined us and advised some oil; then the coachman brought +us some polishing sand; bath-brick and whitening we got from the cook. + +It was no good. Nothing could restore those little flakes. So we went +indoors to have a look at the Encyclopædia. But there was nothing there +to help us. Yussuf was suffering from an absolutely unknown disease. + +We put him to bed again. + + * * * * * + +After lunch Archibald received the following letter:-- + +"DEAR SIR,--We learn with regret that, by an inadvertence, +the wrong sword has been despatched to you. We now hasten to forward +yours, trusting that the delay has not inconvenienced you. At the same +time our representative will, with your permission, collect the sword +now in your possession as it is of exceptional value, and also has to +be inscribed immediately for presentation. + + Your obedient Servants, + SLASHER AND CO." + +"For presentation," I repeated; "then it's not meant to cut with, and +those blobs really are gold." I touched one respectfully. + +The latest subaltern pulled himself together and rang the bell. +"When a man calls here for a sword," he told the servant, "give him +this"--pointing dramatically at Yussuf. "And Jenkins!" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"Tell him that I have just sailed for ... er--for the Front." + + * * * * * + +LE DERNIER CRI. + +BEING THE SOLILOQUY OF THE OLDEST PARROT. + +_Hallo! Hallo! Hallo! Polly-olly-wolly! Scratch a poll!_ It isn't that +I shout the loudest, though I fancy I _could_ keep my end up in the +monkey-house if it came to that. Many a parrot wastes all his energy +in wind. It's brains, not lungs, that make a full crop. Extend your +vocabulary. Another thing--don't make yourself too cheap. The parrot +that always gives his show free lives the whole of his life on official +rations--and nothing else. _Half-a-pint o' mild-an'-bitter! Pom! Pom!_ + +I'm the oldest inhabitant, and I've the biggest waist measurement for +my height in Regent's Park. That's my reward. I'll admit I've a bad +memory; most parrots have, except the one that used to sing "Rule +Britannia" and knew the name of every keeper in the Zoo--and _he_ went +into hospital with something-on-the-brain. But _I_'ve moved with the +times. There aren't many catch-phrases I haven't caught. "Walker," +"Who's Griffiths?" and drawing corks in the old "Champagne Charlie" +days; and "You're another," "Get your hair cut," "Does your mother know +you're out?" "My word, if I catch you bending!" "After you with the +cruet." But I've a bad memory. _Have a banana? I don't think!..._ + +I'm never quite sure of myself, and so just have to say what comes +uppermost. _Shun! Stanterteeze! Form-forz, you two! Half-a-pint o'...._ + +I've found it doesn't do to repeat _everything_ the sergeant says. +We had a Naval parrot once.... Why, take for instance that young man +with his greasy feathers brushed back like a parrakeet's. He looked +good for a few grapes any day, but when, just to encourage him, I +chortled, "KITCHENER wants yer!" he frowned and walked away. I +did good business later, though. Pulled up a bunch of Khaki people by +just shouting "'Alt!" I admired their taste in oranges. _Down with the +KAISER!_ By the way, I've shouted "Down with" almost everybody +in my time. _Johnny, get your gun; Goobye, Tipperlairlee._ + +But the best is "_Veeve la Fronce_." Last week one of those foreign +officers heard me "veeving" softly to myself. In half a minute he'd +collected a dozen of his friends and relatives, and I could see more +coming in the distance. The excitement! My tail! "Marie! Alphonse!" he +shouted. "_Regarday dong ce brave wozzo!_" They gave me butterscotch; +they gave me muscatels; they gave me a meringue, and lots of little +sweet biscuits (I don't take monkey-nuts these days, thank you!) and +they all talked at once. Then a lovely creature with a cockatoo's crest +on her head bent forward and coaxed me in a voice like ripe bananas. +And there was I sitting like a fool, my mouth crammed and my mind a +blank! The crowd was growing every minute. The cockatoo girl ran to the +kiosk and bought me French nougat; I ate it. Then I made a desperate +effort--"Has anybody here seen Kelly?" + +Bless the camel-keeper! At that very moment I heard him ringing the +"all-out" bell. + + * * * * * + +_The Times_ says that the _Blücher_ was the reply of the German +Admiralty to the first British _Dreadnought_. + +Admiral Sir DAVID BEATTY begs to state that he has forwarded +this reply to the proper quarter. + + * * * * * + +We have pleasure in culling the following extract from the account of a +wedding, as set forth in _The Silver Leaf_ (published at Somerset West, +Cape Province):-- + + "Whilst the register was being signed, Mme. Wortley, of Cape Town, + sang 'Entreat me not to leave thee' with great feeling." + +It seems perhaps a little early to discuss the question of marital +separation. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: HOW TO KEEP FIT. FOR REALLY BUSY MEN. + +1. ON THE WAY TO THE STATION. + +2. WAITING FOR THE TRAIN. + +3. ON THE 'BUS--"WITH DEEP BREATHING--NECK WRISTS." + +4. AT THE OFFICE--THE CORRESPONDENCE. + +5. WEIGHING BUSINESS PROPOSITIONS. + +6. WAITING AT THE TELEPHONE.] + + * * * * * + +THE VOLUNTEERS. + + _Time_: 7.30 P.M. _Scene: A large disused barn, where forty + members of the local Volunteer Training Corps are assembled for + drill. They are mostly men well over thirty-eight years of age, but + there is a sprinkling of lads of under nineteen, while a few are men + of "military age" who for some good and sufficient reason have been + unable to join the army. They are all full of enthusiasm, but at + present they possess neither uniform nor arms. Please note that in the + following dialogue the Sergeant alone speaks aloud; the other person_ + thinks, _but gives no utterance to his words_. + + _The Sergeant._ Fall in! Fall in! Come smartly there, fall in + And recollect that when you've fallen in + You stand at ease, a ten-inch space between + Your feet--like this; your hands behind your back-- + Like this; your head and body both erect; + Your weight well poised on both feet, not on one. + Dress by the right, and let each rear rank man + Quick cover off his special front rank man. + That's it; that's good. Now when I say, "Squad, 'shun," + Let every left heel swiftly join the right + Without a shuffling or a scraping sound + And let the angle of your two feet be + Just forty-five, the while you smartly drop + Hands to your sides, the fingers lightly bent, + Thumbs to the front, but every careful thumb + Kept well behind your trouser-seams. Squad, 'shun! + + _The Volunteer._ Ha! Though I cannot find my trouser-seams, + I rather think I did that pretty well. + Thomas, my footman, who is on my left, + And Batts, the draper, drilling on my right, + And e'en the very Sergeant must have seen + The lithe precision of my rapid spring. + + _The Sergeant._ When next I call you to attention, note + You need not slap your hands against your thighs. + It is not right to slap your thighs at all. + + _The Volunteer._ He's looking at me; I am half afraid + I used unnecessary violence + And slapped my thighs unduly. It is bad + That Thomas should have cause to grin at me + And lose his proper feeling of respect, + Being a flighty fellow at the best; + And Batts the draper must not---- + + _The Sergeant._ Stand at ease! + + _The Volunteer._ Aha! He wants to catch me, but he---- + + _The Sergeant._ 'Shun! + + _The Volunteer._ Bravo, myself! I did not slap them then. + I am indubitably getting on. + I wonder if the Germans do these things, + And what they sound like in the German tongue. + The Germans are a---- + + _The Sergeant._ Sharply number off + From right to left, and do not jerk your heads. + + [_They number off._ + + _The Volunteer._ I'm six, an even number, and must do + The lion's share in forming fours. What luck + For Batts, who's five, and Thomas, who is seven. + They also serve, but only stand and wait, + While I behind the portly form of Batts + Insert myself and then slip out again + Clear to the front, observing at the word + The ordered sequence of my moving feet. + Come let me brace myself and dare---- + + _The Sergeant._ Form fours! + + _The Volunteer._ I cannot see the Sergeant; I'm obscured + Behind the acreage of Batts's back. + Indeed it is a very noble back + And would protect me if we charged in fours + Against the Germans, but I rather think + We charge two deep, and therefore---- + + _The Sergeant._ Form two deep! + + _The Volunteer._ Thank Heaven I'm there, although I mixed my feet! + I am oblivious of the little things + That mark the due observance of a drill; + And Thomas sees my faults and grins again. + Let him grin on; my time will come once more + At dinner, when he hands the Brussels sprouts. + + [_The drill proceeds._ + + Now we're in fours and marching like the wind. + This is more like it; this is what we need + To make us quit ourselves like regulars. + Left, right, left, right! The Sergeant gives it out + As if he meant it. Stepping out like this + We should breed terror in the German hordes + And drive them off. The Sergeant has a gleam + In either eye; I think he's proud of us. + Or does he meditate some stratagem + To spoil our marching? + + _The Sergeant._ On the left form squad! + + _The Volunteer._ There! He has done it! He has ruined us! + I'm lost past hope, and Thomas, too, is lost; + And in a press of lost and tangled men + The great broad back of Batts heaves miles away. + + [_The Sergeant explains and the drill proceeds._ + + _The Volunteer._ No matter; we shall some day learn it all, + The standing difference 'twixt our left and right, + The bayonet exercise, the musketry, + And all the things a soldier does with ease. + I must remember it's a long, long way + To Tipperary, but my heart's---- + + _The Sergeant._ Dismiss! + + R. C. L. + + * * * * * + +MARCH AIRS. + +AT long last the War Office is waking up to the value of bands for +military purposes, and a good deal of interest will be aroused by the +discussion now proceeding as to the best airs for use on the march. + +The following suggestions have been hastily collected by wireless and +other means:-- + +From the Trenches: "Why not try 'Come into the garden mud'?" + +From a very new Subaltern: "I had thought of 'John Brown's Body,' but +personally I am more concerned just now with Sam Browne's Belt." + +From a Zeppelin-driver: "There's an old Scotch song that I have tried +successfully on one of our naval lieutenants. It runs like this:-- + + O, I'll tak the high road and you'll tak' the low road, + An' I'll be in Yarmouth afore ye." + +From the Captain of the _Sydney_: "What's the matter with 'The Jolly +Müller'?" + +From President WILSON: "Have you thought of 'The little rift +within the lute,' as played by our Contra-band?" + +From Admiral VON TIRPITZ: "A familiar air with me is 'Crocked +in the cradle of the deep.'" + +From Sir EDWARD GREY: "If it could be done diplomatically, I +should like to see recommended, 'Dacia, Dacia, give me your answer, +do.'" + +From the Crew of the _Lion_: "For England, Home, and Beatty." + +From an East Coast Mayor: "Begone, dull scare!" + +From the King of RUMANIA: "Now we shan't be long." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Old Farmer_ (_to village Military Critic_). +"STRATEEGY? DOD, MAN, YE HAVENA AS MUCKLE STRATEEGY AS WAD TAK' YE +ACROSS ARGYLE STREET UNLESS A POLISMAN HELPIT YE."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +_The German War Book_ (MURRAY) is a work in whose authenticity +many of us would have refused to believe this time last year. It is a +pity indeed that it was not then in the hands of all those who still +clung to the theory that the Prussian was a civilised and humane being. +However, now that everyone can read it, translated and with a wholly +admirable preface by Professor J. H. MORGAN, it is to be hoped +that the detestable little volume will have a wide publicity. True, it +can add little to our recent knowledge of the enemy of mankind; but it +is something to have his guiding principles set down upon the authority +of his own hand. Cynical is hardly an adequate epithet for them; +indeed I do not know that the word exists that could do full justice +to the compound of hypocrisy and calculated brutishness that makes up +this manual. It may at first strike the reader as surprising to find +himself confronted by sentiments almost, one might say, of moderation +and benevolence. He will ask with astonishment if the writer has not, +after all, been maligned. Before long, however, he will discover that +all this morality is very carefully made conditional, and that the +conditions are wide. In short, as the Preface puts it, the peculiar +logic of the book consists in "ostentatiously laying down unimpeachable +rules, and then quietly destroying them by debilitating exceptions." +For example, on the question of exposing the inhabitants of occupied +territory to the fire of their own troops--the now notorious Prussian +method of "women and children first"--the _War Book_, while admitting +pious distaste for such practice, blandly argues that its "main +justification" lies in its success. Thus, with sobs and tears, like +the walrus, the Great General Staff enumerates its suggested list of +serviceable infamies. At the day of reckoning what a witness will this +little book be! Out of their own mouths they stand here condemned +through all the ages. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. HUMPHRY WARD, chief of novelists-with-a-purpose, +vehemently eschews the detachment of the Art-for-Art's-Saker, while +a long and honourable practice has enabled her to make her stories +bear the burden of her theses much more comfortably than would seem +theoretically possible. _Delia Blanchflower_ (WARD, LOCK) +is a suffrage novel, dedicated with wholesome intent to the younger +generation, and if one compares the talented author's previous +record of uncompromising, and indeed rather truculent, anti-suffrage +utterances one may note (with approval or dismay) a considerable +broadening of view on the vexed question. For her attack here is +delivered exclusively on the militant position. Quite a number of +decent folk in her pages are suffragistically inclined, and there is +a general admission that the eager feet that throng the hill of the +Vote are not by any means uniformly shod in elastic-sided boots, if +one may speak a parable. It is a very notable admission and does the +writer honour; for such revisions are rare with veteran and committed +campaigners. The story is laid in the far-away era of the burnings of +cricket pavilions and the lesser country houses. _Delia_ is a beautiful +goddess-heiress of twenty-two, with eyes of flame and a will of steel, +a very agreeable and winning heroine. Her tutor, _Gertrude Marvell_, +the desperate villain of the piece, a brilliant fanatic (crossed in +love in early youth), wins the younger girl's affections and inspires +and accepts her dedication of self and fortune to the grim purposes of +the "Daughters of Revolt." _Mark Winnington_, her guardian, appointed +by her father to counteract the tutor's baleful influence, finds both +women a tough proposition. For _Gertrude_ has brains to back her +fanaticism, and _Delia_ is a spirited handful of a ward. Loyalty to her +consecration and to her friend outlast her belief in the methods of the +revolting ones. Her defences are finally ruined by Cupid, for _Mark_ is +a handsome athletic man of forty or so, a paragon of knightly courtesy +and persuasive speech and silences, and compares very favourably with +the policemen in Parliament Square. Poor _Gertrude_ makes a tragic +end in a fire of her own kindling, so that the moral for the younger +generation cannot be said to be set forth in ambiguous terms. + + * * * * * + +_Arundel_ (FISHER UNWIN) is one of those stories that begins +with a Prologue; and as this was only mildly interesting I began to +wonder whether I was going to be as richly entertained as one has by +now a right to expect from Mr. E. F. BENSON. But it appeared +that, like a cunning dramatist, he was only waiting till the audience +had settled into their seats; when this was done, up went the curtain +upon the play proper, and we were introduced to Arundel itself, an +abode of such unmixed and giddy joy that I have been chortling over the +memory of it ever since. Arundel was the house at Heathmoor where lived +_Mrs. Hancock_ and her daughter _Edith_; and _Mrs. Hancock_ herself, +and her house and her neighbourhood and her car and her servants and +her friends--all, in fact, that is hers, epitomize the Higher Suburbia +with a delicate and merciless satire that is beyond praise. I shall +hurry over the actual story, because that, though well and absorbingly +told, is of less value than the setting. Next door to the _Hancocks_ +lived a blameless young man called _Edward_, whom for many reasons, +not least because their croquet-lawns, so to speak, "marched," _Mrs. +Hancock_ had chosen as her daughter's husband. So blamelessly, almost +without emotion, these were betrothed, walking among the asparagus beds +on a suitable May afternoon "ventilated by a breath of south-west wind +and warmed by a summer sun," and the course of their placid affection +would have run smooth enough but for the sudden arrival, out of the +Prologue, of _Elizabeth_, fiercely alive and compelling, the ideal +of poor _Edward's_ dreams. Naturally, therefore, there is the devil +to pay. But, good as all this is, it is _Mrs. Hancock_ who makes the +book, first, last and all the time. She is a gem of purest ray serene, +and my words that would praise her are impotent things. Only unlimited +quotation could do justice to her sleek self-deception and little +comfortable meannesses. In short, as a contemporary portrait, the +mistress of Arundel seems to be the best thing that Mr. BENSON +has yet given us; worth--if he will allow me to say so--a whole +race of _Dodos_. For comparison one turns instinctively to JANE +AUSTEN; and I can sound no higher praise. + +Love never seems to run a smooth course for girls of the name of +_Joan_; their affairs of heart, whatever the final issue may be, have +complex beginnings and make difficult, at times dismal, progress. I +attribute the rejection of the great novel of my youth to the fact +that the heroine, a rosy-cheeked girl with no more serious problems in +life than the organisation of mixed hockey matches, was ineptly given +that unhappy name. Miss MARY AGNES HAMILTON'S _Joan Traquair_ +is true to the type. From the start she is handicapped by a bullying +father, an invalid sister, a lack of means and an excess of artistic +temperament, the last of these being not just a casual tendency to +picture galleries and the opera, but the kind of restless passion +which causes people to prefer sunsets to meals and to neglect their +dress. In due course she falls in love with a man called _Sebastian_, +another name which, if less familiar, is yet a sufficient warning to +the world that its owner is bound to be a nuisance on the hearth. This +_Sebastian_ was an artist, ambitious and of course poor; worse, he had +a touch of genius and--worst of all--he knew it. Nevertheless _Joan_ +became his wife, supposing that this was just the sort of man to make +her happy. Instead, he made her thoroughly miserable, at any rate for +a good long time; but I doubt if any reader, even with all the facts +before him, will anticipate exactly how he did it. I certainly didn't +myself, although I feel now that I ought to have done. The point of +_Yes_ (HEINEMANN) is both new and true; I recommend the book +with confidence to all interested in the Joans and Sebastians of this +world. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "NOT THOUGH THE SOLDIER KNEW SOMEONE HAD +BLUNDERED."] + + * * * * * + +Our Cheery Allies. + +A letter from a Japanese firm:-- + + "DEAR SIRS,--Since writing you last we have no favours to + acknowledge, however, we are pleased to enter into business relation + with your respectable firm. We were delighted that the Allies + always behaved bravely in the recent battle and now are in the very + favourable condition. Our army took the possetion of Tsingtau and our + only hope remaindered is to hear the annihiration of the enemy force. + We trust the Allies will beat the Enemy in near future though we + cannot assert the time. If there are any samples of Japanese goods as + substitute of German's, kindly let us know, and we shall send the same + as soon as possible." + + * * * * * + +ENCYCLOPÆDIA GERMANICA. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins from dark aerial heights + Pick out the peaceful places while people sleep o' nights. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins steer clear of fort and gun; + Such things of dreadful menace repel the flying Hun. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins show Science at the call + Of all the savage instincts that hold them tight in thrall. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins--_our_ women lying dead-- + The whole of German "Kultur" is there from A to Z. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44654 *** diff --git a/44654-h/44654-h.htm b/44654-h/44654-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eed0356 --- /dev/null +++ b/44654-h/44654-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2152 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 148, February 3, 1915, by Various</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"/> + <style type="text/css"> + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .lowercase {text-transform:lowercase;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .stage {padding-left: 6em;} + + hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + span.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem h3 {text-align: left;} + .poem h4 {text-align: left;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + + .figcenter, .figright, .figleft {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img {border: none;} + .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + p.author {text-align: right; margin-right: 3em;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.break-before { + page-break-before: always; +} + + + +epub headings + +.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } +.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } +.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } +.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } +.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } + + + + + div.trans-note {background: #EEEEEE; border: dashed 1px; border-width: 1px; + margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: center;} + --> + + hr.pg { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44654 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 148, +February 3, 1915, by Various, Edited by Sir Owen Seaman</h1> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Malcolm Farmer<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <p class="ph2">Vol. 148.</p> + <hr class="full" /> + + <p class="ph2">February 3, 1915.</p> + <hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="charivaria"> +<p class="ph2"><a name="CHARIVARIA" id="CHARIVARIA">CHARIVARIA.</a></p> + + +<p>"Celerity," said the German <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> to our representative +at Berlin on the eve of the War, "is essential lo us." It has, however, +taken him over five months to discover what he meant by his "scrap of +paper" speech.</p> + +<p class="center">* * *</p> + +<p>As a substitute for the International Railway Time Table Conference, +Germany has invited Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Austria, Switzerland and +Italy to a joint conference to be held on February 3rd. Certainly +something will have to be done for the <span class="sc">Kaiser's</span> Time Tables. +They have been most unsatisfactory ever since the outbreak of the War.</p> + +<p class="center">* * *</p> + +<p>A German paper reports that the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> is in excellent health +now, and that his girth has distinctly increased during the War. His +patriotic countrymen must be delighted at this fresh extension of +Kaiser-tum.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>The omission of the <span class="sc">German Emperor</span> to send a telegram +of condolence to <span class="sc">King Victor Emmanuel</span> on the occasion +of the earthquake has called forth severe comments in Italy. The +<span class="sc">Kaiser</span> is said to have been anxious to create the impression +that he sent the earthquake himself as a caution.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p><span class="sc">Enver Pasha</span> is said to have now returned to Constantinople. +His place in the Egyptian Expeditionary Force will, it is thought, be +taken by <span class="sc">Revers Pasha</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>The <span class="sc">ex-Khedive's</span> war-cry: "Geneva for the Egyptians!"</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>"The <span class="sc">German Emperor</span>," said General <span class="sc">von Kressenstein</span>, +the other day, in a speech to Turkish officers and men, "is a sincere +father to Islam." This statement was very necessary as many Turkish +soldiers, judging by their experience of German officers, had imagined +that the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> was Islam's stepfather.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>Articles entitled "<i>Unser Hass gegen England</i>," Mr. <span class="sc">Valentine +Williams</span> tells us, continue to appear in the German Press, and a +dear old lady writes to say that she presumes the Hass in question is +the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>We are sorry to hear that a Scotch prisoner in Germany got into serious +trouble for referring in a letter to the fact that he was a member of +the Burns Society. The authorities imagined this to be an incendiary +association.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>Those wideawake Germans have discovered further evidence of a shortage +of arms in our country. Attention is being drawn in Berlin to the fact +that the London County Council has decided to defer the proposal to +have a coat-of-arms until the conclusion of the War.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>We hear that Mr. <span class="sc">Winston Churchill</span> is delighted at the +success of his expression, "the baby-killers," which has taken on +so wonderfully and promises to have a greater run even than Mr. +<span class="sc">Asquith's</span> "Wait and see." Fortunately in these times there is +no jealousy between politicians.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p><i>The Observer</i> is wondering whether, in view of the threat of Zeppelin +raids, we are taking sufficient precautions in regard to our national +treasures. It may relieve our contemporary to know that at least one +post-impressionist has removed all his works to a secret destination in +the country.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>During a recent aerial attack on Dunkirk some bombs, we are told, set +fire to a woollen warehouse. This just shows the danger of constructing +a warehouse of such inflammable material.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>The War Office, <i>The Express</i> tells us, recently requested the borough +of Sunderland to raise a brigade of field artillery. The Mayor, +however, is reported to be a Quaker and opposed to War on principle, +and it is stated that the local recruiting committee has decided to +respect the Mayor's conscientious scruples. Suggested motto for the +town, "Let Sunderland Quake."</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>Speaking of the new Lord of Appeal, a contemporary says, "Mr. Justice +Bankes is noted for his pleasant appearance, and for the fact that he +has never been known to raise his voice." He does not, in fact, belong +to the firm of Bankes and Brays.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>As a result of the War there is a famine in glass, and prices are +up nearly 100 per cent. Here surely is a Heaven-sent chance for the +Crystal Palace to turn itself into a financial success.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>The strike of Billingsgate fish porters was, we hear, settled in the +nick of time. The men were just beginning to brush up their language.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>The Chicago Tribune</i> as quoted in <i>The Sunday Times</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"'C'est incredible!' remarked the thorough Parisian."</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Pas demi," we retort in our best London accent.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"The Secretary of the Admiralty makes the following announcement:—</p> + +<p>Goods for his Majesty's ships which have hitherto been sent by mail, +addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dingwall,' should in future be +addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dngwall.'"</p> + +<p> +<i>Scarborough Daily Post.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>We obey reluctantly.</p> +</blockquote> + + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a href="images/081full.jpg"> +<img src="images/081.jpg" width="500" height="352" alt="HOCH AYE" /> +</a> +<div class="caption">HOCH AYE! + +<p><span class="sc">Scene</span>: <i>A lonely part of the Scottish Coast.</i></p> + +<p><i>German Spy</i> (<i>who has been signalling and suddenly notices that he is +being watched</i>). "<span class="sc">Nein! Nein! Never shall you land on my beloved +Shcotchland!</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph3">A THOUSAND STRONG.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">A thousand strong,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">With laugh and song,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To charge the guns or line a trench,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">We marched away</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">One August day,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And fought beside the gallant French.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">A thousand strong,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">But not for long;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Some lie entombed in Belgian clay;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Some torn by shell</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Lie, where they fell,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beneath the turf of La Bassée.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">But yet at night,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">When to the fight</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Eager from camp and trench we throng,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Our comrades dead</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">March at our head,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And still we charge, a thousand strong!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph3">MOSES II.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>To the New Lord of Islam.</i>)</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He led the Chosen People forth;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Over the Red Sea tramped their legions;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They wandered East, they wandered North</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Through very vague and tedious regions,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ploughing a lot of desolating sand</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Before they struck the Promised Land.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And you, who play so many parts,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And figure in such fancy poses,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now, poring over Syrian charts,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dressed for the character of <span class="sc">Moses</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In spirit lead your Turks, a happy band,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bound for another Promised Land.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Promises you have made before;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And doubtless your adopted Bosches</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Deemed the Canal would lend its floor</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To pass them through without goloshes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As though it were a segment of the dry</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Peninsula of Sinaï.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And when they feared to lose their way</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You answered them with ready wit: "Oh!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You'll have a pillar of cloud by day,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And through the night a fiery ditto,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But never said that these would be supplied</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By airmen on the other side."</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor did you mention how the sun</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Promotes a thirst in desert places,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor how their route was like to run</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A little short of green oases,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because the wells that glad the wanderer's sight</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have been removed by dynamite.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor did you let the Faithful guess</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That, on the Pentateuch's own showing,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Israel found the wilderness</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Took forty years of steady going;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And after two-score summers, one would think,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Even a camel wants a drink.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And you yourself, if still alive</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And not transferred (we'll say?) to heaven,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would by the date when they arrive</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Have touched the age of 97,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And scarcely be in quite the best condition</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To share their labour's full fruition.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come down, O fool, from Pisgah's heights,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where, stung by Furies misbegotten,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You counterfeit Mosaic flights,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Aching for Egypt's corn and cotton;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Think how it makes the local fellah smile</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To hear your <i>Watch upon the Nile!</i></span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">O. S.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">The Scramble.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"Near Bir Muhadata a British hydroplane dropped a bob on a Turkish +column, inflicting loss."—<i>Manchester Guardian.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>In the mad rush made by the always unpaid Turkish troops to secure this +godsend, there were many casualties.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">The Journalistic Touch.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"This was on the morning of January 2, and Grall had had no food and +only a little water since the morning of December 31 <i>of the previous +year</i>.—Reuter."—<i>Daily Chronicle.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>The italics represent our own endeavour to assist the picture.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph2">GERMANY'S WAR STRENGTH.</p> + +<p>Dear <i>Mr. Punch</i>,—I cannot for the life of me understand why your +contemporaries should be in such difficulties over the above question +or how it is that they arrive at such diverse estimates. The elements +of the problem are perfectly straightforward. I worked it out on the +back of my ticket in the Tube last night, and as there can be no doubt +whatever about my conclusions I think they ought to be published.</p> + +<p>The present population of Germany for popular purposes (as they always +say) is 70,000,000. All the evidence goes to show that the war is still +popular in Germany, or parts of it, so we may accept that figure. Very +well. Of these, 33,000,000 are males. It seems a good many, but we +shall soon begin to whittle it down. By examining the figures of the +different "age groups" we find that fully five million of these are +under the age of seven and as quite a number are over sixty and others +are incapacitated—we have no space to enter into all these complicated +calculations here—we shall not be far wrong if we deduct at the outset +about 21,175,000 under these heads. This leaves us in round figures +twelve million.</p> + +<p>We now come to the question of losses up to date; and here we must +proceed with caution, for it is above all important to be on the safe +side. The present German losses are computed by the best authorities +at about two million, from all causes, up to 3 <span class="sc">P.M.</span> on the +13th ult. From this we must deduct, however, all those who, after being +wounded, have returned to the firing-line—say, half a million. Also +all those who, having been wounded a second time, have returned to the +front,—say, three hundred thousand. Also all those who have been three +times wounded and have still gone back to fight—say, fifty thousand.</p> + +<p>Then again we must remember those who have been invalided home and +recovered, and those who have been missing and are found again. And +there are the men who have been erroneously reported as prisoners, +owing to the Germans' incorrigible habit of exaggerating the number of +their own troops who have fallen into the enemy's hands.</p> + +<p>After all these deductions we may safely put the revised German losses +at 750,000. This should be taken off the twelve million eligible; but +it would, I think, be wise (in order to keep always on the safe side) +to add it on. This gives us 12,750,000. Very well.</p> + +<p>But the industries of the country must be carried on. There are the +railways, agriculture, mining. Let us say five million for these. There +are those great industries without which a nation cannot wage war; +for instance, the makers of Iron Crosses (100,000), the custodians of +ships retained in harbour (50,000), the printers of picture-postcards +(50,000), the writers of Hate-hymns, besides sundry makers of armaments +and things.</p> + +<p>Counting all those in and keeping on the safe side and dealing only +with round figures for popular purposes we may conclude that anything +from one to nine million must be deducted from our last figure to +arrive at a final estimate.</p> + +<p>To sum up, Germany's war strength cannot be more than three million or +less than eleven. This gives us a clear idea of what we have to face.</p> + +<p>I enclose my card in case you should think me an amateur, and have the +honour to remain,</p> + +<p class="center"> +Yours faithfully,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="sc">Statistician</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p><i>Men we do not introduce to the Duke of <span class="sc">Westminster</span></i> I.—The +German Minister of Finance: Dr. <span class="sc">Helfferich</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 644px;"> + +<a href="images/083full.jpg"> +<img src="images/083.jpg" width="644" height="800" alt="THE RETURN OF THE RAIDER" /> +</a> +<p class="center">THE RETURN OF THE RAIDER.</p> +<p><span class="sc">Kaiser.</span> "WELL, I <i>AM</i> SURPRISED!"</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Tirpitz.</span> "SO WERE WE."</p></div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 426px;"> +<a href="images/085.jpg"> +<img src="images/085tb.jpg" width="426" height="600" alt="Yes, Sir, these Zeppelin raids" /> +</a> +<div class="caption">"<span class="sc">Yes, Sir, these Zeppelin raids—words can't +describe 'em. They're—well, if I might coin a word, Sir—I think +they're 'orrible!</span>"</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p class="ph3">WAR COMPUNCTION.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we can't motor over to Potwick, lunch at 'The George,' and +play a round of golf?" said the Reverend Henry.</p> + +<p>"Not without feeling rather—well, rotters and outsiders," said +Sinclair regretfully.</p> + +<p>"At least we couldn't of course go in the big car," said I, "and we +should be almost bound to have lunch at that little tea-shop, and it +wouldn't do to play a whole round of golf."</p> + +<p>"It is rather a nice point," said Henry, "what one can do in War +time without feeling that one is stamping oneself. Sinclair here was +shooting pheasants a fortnight ago."</p> + +<p>"Well, the birds were <i>there</i>, you know," said Sinclair, "and it's a +rotten slow business catching them in traps. Besides, we sent them all +to the Red Cross people."</p> + +<p>"The weak spot about golf," said the Reverend Henry, "is that there's +no way of sending the results to the Red Cross. There's really no other +earthly reason why one shouldn't play. There's every reason why one +should, but——"</p> + +<p>"I haven't played since the War began," said I.</p> + +<p>"Nor I. But I have a notion that if one played without caddies and with +old balls——"</p> + +<p>"Or got a refugee for a caddy and grossly overpaid him," Henry put in +hopefully.</p> + +<p>"I know what you want, Sinclair," said I. "I know perfectly well +what you want. You would like to play golf, but you wouldn't feel +comfortable unless you had a notice pinned to your back in some such +terms as these—'<span class="sc">This man, though he may not look it, is over 38; +he is also medically unfit. He has two brothers and a nephew at the +front. He has more than once taken the chair at recruiting meetings and +he is entertaining seven belgians. He has already sent three sweaters +and a pair of ski socks to the fleet. This is the first holiday he has +had for three months, and he is now playing a round of golf.</span>' Then +you would feel all right."</p> + +<p>"Yes, in your case, Sinclair, it is merely moral cowardice," said +Henry. "But it's queer about golf. Every one admits that billiards is +all right, and—I think—Badminton."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps I am a bit over-sensitive," said I, "but I'm bound to +say that even if I were playing billiards in a public place at present +I should feel happier if I used the butt end of the cue."</p> + +<p>"The problem seems to be closely allied," said the Reverend Henry, "to +the problem of Sabbath observance when I was a child. We were very +strict in our household. We were not allowed to play games of any sort +on Sunday so long as they were played according to the accepted rules; +but we discovered after a time that if we played them <i>wrong</i> no one +objected. We should certainly have been punished for playing tennis +with a tennis racquet, but if we played with a walking-stick or the +flat side of a pair of bellows there was not the slightest objection."</p> + +<p>"That's what I feel like," said Sinclair. "I don't want to do the old +things in the old ways."</p> + +<p>"We never have people to dinner now," said I, "but we have shoals to +lunch."</p> + +<p>"It is all deplorably illogical," said the Reverend Henry. "But so long +as one has a sense of decency it seems impossible to scorch about in a +motor bulging with golf clubs."</p> + +<p>"Quite impossible. I propose that we get Mrs. Henry to make us some +sandwiches and go for a long walk."</p> + +<p>It was at this juncture that the morning papers came in with the news +of the battle cruiser victory in the North Sea.... We had a fine run +across the moor in the big car, an excellent lunch at "The George," and +managed to get in two rounds before it was dark.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + + +<p class="ph3">ON THE SPY TRAIL.</p> + + + +<p class="ph4">II.</p> + +<p>People don't always know that Jimmy's dog is a bloodhound. One man +said it was a Great Scott—at least that is what he said when he saw +it. You see, when it is pensive, it sometimes looks like a spaniel and +sometimes like an Airedale—or it would if it hadn't got smooth hair +and a bushy tail which curls. Jimmy was undecided for a long time what +to call it.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"> +<a href="images/086full.jpg"> +<img src="images/086.jpg" width="500" height="377" alt="OUR SPECIAL VOLUNTEER RESERVES" /> +</a> + + +<div class="caption"><p class="left">OUR SPECIAL VOLUNTEER RESERVES.</p> + +<p><i>Instructor.</i> "<span class="sc">Change arms by numbers. One—two——Come along, Sir! +What are you playing at now? Keep your banjo solo for the domestic +hearth.</span>"</p></div> +</div> + +<p>The milkman said Jimmy ought to call it "For instance," and then people +would know what it was for. The milkman thought of a lot more names +before a week was over, for Jimmy's bloodhound tracked down a can of +his milk and lapped it up. It is a very good lapper. It lapped so hard +that Jimmy had to pull the can off its head. Jimmy said it was the +suction and that all good bloodhounds were like that.</p> + +<p>A man stopped Jimmy in the street and asked him if that was the dog +that tracked down the German spy to his lair. Jimmy said it was, and +the man was very pleased: he patted the bloodhound on the head and +said, "Good old Faithful!"—just like that.</p> + +<p>Jimmy showed him the pork-butcher's shop where he did it, and the +man said if Jimmy would wait a minute he would go and buy the dog +some German fruit. Jimmy said the man bought a large kind of sausage +which had a red husk. He then stooped down and said, "Good old chap, +I confer upon you the Order of the Faithful Sausage, 1st class, and +if you catch another German spy I'll give you a season ticket." When +Jimmy's bloodhound saw the red sausage he began to bay, and he hurled +himself upon it with much vigour, Jimmy says. The man watched Jimmy's +bloodhound working, and he said, "<i>Magna est fidelitas et prevalebit</i>," +which he said meant that "Old Faithful would down the Germans every +time."</p> + +<p>Jimmy calls his bloodhound Faithful now, and he is keener than ever on +catching another German spy.</p> + +<p>Jimmy says he thought he was on the track of one the other day. He +was walking down a road when suddenly Faithful began straining at the +leash, as if he scented one. But it wasn't a German after all; it was a +goat. It was in a field. Jimmy said he made sure it was a German until +he saw it.</p> + +<p>The goat was having its tea on the far side of the field. Jimmy hadn't +seen the goat before, so he loosed Faithful at it. Faithful bounded +towards the goat very hard at first, and then stopped and began to +deploy.</p> + +<p>Jimmy said the goat was very surprised when it saw Faithful and jumped +three feet into the air all at once. Jimmy says Faithful makes things +do like that. You see Faithful was crawling hand over hand towards it +on the grass, and the goat looked as if it expected Faithful to go off +suddenly.</p> + +<p>Then the goat said "Yes! Yes!" several times with its head and began to +moo.</p> + +<p>Jimmy said the goat must have been winding up the starting handle, for +it suddenly slipped in the clutch and got into top gear in five yards. +It was a flexible goat, Jimmy says. Faithful is a good runner; it has a +kind of side-stroke action when it runs fast, and this puzzled the goat +and made it skid a bit on the grass.</p> + +<p>Jimmy sat on the gate and watched them. After five times round the +field the goat sat down and looked nonplussed.</p> + +<p>Jimmy knows all about goats; he knows what to do with them, and he +showed me. He got it so tame that it would feed out of your hand. It +ate half a newspaper one day and it made it very fiery. Jimmy said it +was the War news. We were trying to harness it to a perambulator Jimmy +had borrowed. Jimmy said it had to have a bell on its neck so that +people would know it was coming, just like the Alps.</p> + +<p>Jimmy said goats could jump from one Alp to the other, and they always +did that in Switzerland and it sounded very pretty in the evening.</p> + +<p>I hadn't got a little bell that tinkled so I brought the dinner bell, +and we tied it on to the goat's neck with a rope. Jimmy said it would +make the goat feel glad.</p> + +<p>It took us a long time to harness the goat properly because it was +so fidgety. There wasn't much room in the cart, but we both managed +to squeeze in, and Faithful ran on in front. The goat doesn't like +Faithful; it has an aversion to him when he bays. Faithful knew the +goat was coming after him because he could hear the bell.</p> + +<p>There was more room for Jimmy when I fell out, but Faithful kept +straight in the middle of the road doing the side-stroke as hard as he +could with both hands. I could hear the bell. Jimmy said a horse and +trap climbed over the hedge to let them pass. The man in the trap said +something to Jimmy, but Jimmy couldn't catch what he said; it was such +a long sentence. Jimmy said they went into an ironmonger's shop, all +of them. Faithful got there first. He deployed amongst some buckets +which were outside the shop. So did the goat. The noise disturbed the +ironmonger. He took his wife and children into the cellar. Jimmy said +it was the noise that did it, and the goat's face.</p> + +<p>The ironmonger's wife told Jimmy she had had a shock; she spoke to him +out of the cellar window. Jimmy says she had a catch in her breath.</p> + +<p>The goat didn't go back to the field very quickly; it was because one +of the wheels was bent and the goat seemed to have caught a hiccough. +That was because it ran so fast after eating the newspaper, Jimmy says. +He says all goats are like that.</p> + +<p>The goat won't eat out of Jimmy's hand now; whenever it sees Jimmy it +tries to climb a tree. A boy told Jimmy that the man who owns the goat +is concerned about it, so Jimmy goes hunting German spies with Faithful +down another road now.</p> + +<hr class="sm" /> + +<p class="ph4">The Two Blüchers.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A century since, joy filled our cup</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To hear of <span class="sc">Blücher</span> "coming up";</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To-day joy echoes round the town</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To hear of <i>Blücher</i> going down.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/087full.jpg"> +<img src="images/087.jpg" width="800" height="544" alt="In order that no possible means" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p><span class="sc">In order that no possible means of injuring England +may be neglected, it is understood that the German professors of +necromancy and witchcraft have been requested to make the best use of +their magical powers.</span></p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">ZEPPELIN DRILL.</p> + +<p>I had often seen the little lady at No. 4, but it is only lately that I +have discovered that there is in her the makings of a General.</p> + +<p>We found out about her strategic dispositions in a roundabout way. Her +maid told the milkman, and in the course of nature the news came to us. +Every night her maid carries into her room a fur coat, a large pair of +boots and a coal-scuttle.</p> + +<p>It is, of course, her preparation to meet a Zeppelin attack.</p> + +<p>Everybody is getting ready. Bulpitt's wife's mother, for +example—Bulpitt is my next-door neighbour—is making him dig a +bomb-proof hole in the garden. Bulpitt thought there might be some +difficulty about getting her into it. I pointed out that there would be +more difficulty in getting her out—the hole is very deep. He said he +didn't worry about that.</p> + +<p>Two nights later we had a scare. Every light went out along the +road and people were doing all kinds of safe things. It turned out +afterwards that Stewart was testing his family Zeppelin drill, and +fired three shots to make it realistic. His wife then put the baby +in the copper with the lid one inch open. She herself stood beside a +certain wall which, according to Stewart, could not be knocked down +because of the stresses and strains that would be set up.</p> + +<p>That was all very well for him; the only thing that went wrong was +that a little water had been left in the copper. But what about poor +Johnson, who had to pile all the mattresses in the coal-cellar? He was +awfully black and angry when he found out.</p> + +<p>And what about Carruthers, who emptied a fire-pail on the drawing-room +fire, and had to explain a long muddy pool to his wife, who is rather +deaf and hadn't heard the shots?</p> + +<p>As for Bulpitt's wife's mother, she was in the pit for over an hour +before we hauled her out. The first time we got her to the surface +she gasped out, quite smilingly, "Now I know what it's like in the +tren——" and then she slipped back with an oozy thud. The second time +she said, "I don't think they'll come ag——" The third time she said, +"I don't care if the Zeppel——" And when we did get her out she said +nothing at all, and I was sorry for Bulpitt.</p> + +<p>Amidst all these scenes of confusion little Miss Agatha at No. 4 stood +at attention in a fur overcoat and a big pair of boots that would +easily slip on, with a coal-scuttle on her head to keep off bombs. She +stood there warm, safe, and respectably clad, waiting till the house +crashed about her and the time came to save herself.</p> + +<p>I hate to think of the Zeppelins coming; but if they do come I +hope—how I hope!—I shall be near No. 4 to see the indomitable little +lady emerge.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">TEMPORA MUTANTUR.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In <span class="sc">Walpole's</span> time, not over nice,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each man was said to have his price;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">We've changed since then;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For, if my daughter's word is fact,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The world to-day is simply packed</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">With "priceless" men.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">Journalistic Candour.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"When a court-martial was opened for the trial of two sergeants at +Woolwich yesterday one of the officers questioned the right of a +reporter to be present.... The reporter was told to leave, which he +did, after protesting that an official shorthand note was an entirely +different thing from a newspaper report."—<i>Daily Chronicle.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">A LETTER TO THE FRONT.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jeremy looked up from her knitting. "I want you to do something +for me," she said to her husband.</p> + +<p>"Anything except sing," said Jeremy lazily.</p> + +<p>"It's just to write a letter."</p> + +<p>"My dear, of course. <i>The Complete Letter-writer</i>, by J. P. Smith. +Chapter V—'Stiff Notes to Landlords'—shows Mr. Smith at his best. +'Gossipy Budgets, and should they be crossed?'—see Chapter VI. Bless +you, I can write to <i>anybody.</i>"</p> + +<p>"This is to a man you've never met. He's a private at the Front and his +name is Mackinnon."</p> + +<p>"'Dear Mr. Mackinnon'—that's how I should begin. Do we want to say +anything particular, or are we just trying the new notepaper?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jeremy put down her work and gave herself up to explanation. +Private Mackinnon was in a school friend's husband's regiment, and he +never got any letters or parcels from anybody, and the friend's husband +had asked his wife to ask her friends——</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit," said Jeremy. "We shall want the College of Heralds in +this directly." He took out his pencil and drew up a pedigree:—</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> + +<img src="images/088.jpg" width="400" height="147" alt="He took out his pencil and drew up a pedigree" /> + +</div> + + +<p>"There you are. Now <i>you</i> think it's J. P. S.'s turn to write to +Mackinnon." He drew a line from one to the other. "Very well; I shall +tell him about the old school."</p> + +<p>"You do see, don't you?" said Mrs. Jeremy. "All the others get letters +and things from their friends, and poor Mr. Mackinnon gets nothing. +Katharine wants to get up a surprise for him, and she's asking +half-a-dozen of her friends to send him things and write him jolly +letters." She picked up the muffler she had been knitting. "This is for +him, and I said you'd do the letter. You write such jolly ones."</p> + +<p>Jeremy threw away the end of his cigar and got up.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what about?" he said, running his hand through his hair. +"This is going to be very difficult."</p> + +<p>"Oh, just one of your nice funny letters like you write to me."</p> + +<p>"Quite like that?" said Jeremy earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Well, not quite like that," smiled Mrs. Jeremy; "but you know what I +mean. He'd love it."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Jeremy, "we'll see what we can do."</p> + +<p>He withdrew to his library and got to work.</p> + +<p>"<i>My dear Mr. Mackinnon</i>," he wrote, "<i>the weather here is perfectly +beastly</i>."</p> + +<p>He looked at it thoughtfully and then put it on one side. "We won't +destroy it," he said to himself, "because we may have to come back to +it, but at present we don't like it."</p> + +<p>He began another sheet of paper.</p> + +<p>"<i>My dear Mackinnon, who do you think it is? Your old friend Jeremy +Smith!</i>"</p> + +<p>He murmured it to himself three or four times, crossed out "old" and +put "new," and then placed this sheet on the top of the other.</p> + +<p>"<i>My dear Mackinnon, yesterday the Vicar</i>——"</p> + +<p>"I knew it would be difficult," he said, and took a fourth sheet. +Absently he began to jot down a few possible openings:—</p> + +<p>"<i>I am a Special Constable ...</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Have you read Mrs. Humphry Ward's latest ...</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>I hope the War won't last long ...</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "but we're not being really funny enough."</p> + +<p>He collected his letters as far as they had gone and took them to his +wife.</p> + +<p>"You see what will happen, darling," he said. "Mr. Mackinnon will read +them, and he will say to himself, 'There's a man called Jeremy P. Smith +who is a fool.' The news will travel down the line. They will tell +themselves in Alsace that J. P. Smith, the Treasurer of the Little +Blessington Cricket Club, is lacking in grey matter. The story will get +across to the Germans in some garbled form; 'Smith off crumpet,' or +something of that sort. It will reach the Grand Duke <span class="sc">Nicholas</span>; +it will traverse the neutral countries; everywhere the word will be +spread that your husband is, as they say, barmy. I ask you, dear—is it +fair to Baby?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jeremy crumpled up the sheets and threw them in the fire.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jeremy," she said, "you could do it so easily if you wanted to. If +you only said, 'Thank you for being so brave,' it would be something."</p> + +<p>"But you said it had to be a 'jolly' one."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that was silly of me. I didn't mean that. Just write what you +want to write—never mind about what I said."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but that's easy," said Jeremy with great relief; "I can do that on +my head."</p> + +<p>And this was the letter (whether he wrote it on his head or not I +cannot say):—</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">My Dear Mr. Mackinnon</span>,—You are not married, I believe, but +perhaps you will be some day when the War is over. You will then get +to know of a very maddening trick which wives have. You hand them a +letter over the coffee-pot beginning, 'Dear Smith, I saw a little +water-colour of yours in the Academy and admired it very much. The +what-do-you-call-it is so well done, and I like that broad effect. +Please accept an earldom,'—but, before they read any of it at all, +they turn to the signature at the end and say, 'Why, Jeremy, it's from +the <span class="sc">King</span>!' And then all your beautiful surprise is gone.</p> + +<p>"Now I don't mention this in order to put you off marriage, because +there is a lot more in it than letters over the coffee-pot, and all the +rest is delightful. But I want to tell you that, if (as I expect) you +are keeping the signature of this letter for the surprise, you will be +disappointed. I am sorry about it. I tried various signatures with a +surprise to them (you would have liked my 'Hall Caine,' I think), but I +decided that I had best stick to the one I have used for so many years, +'J. P. Smith.' It will make you ask that always depressing question, +'Who is J. P. Smith?' but this I cannot help. Besides, I want to tell +you who he is.</p> + +<p>"An hour ago he was sitting in front of a fire of logs, smoking a +cigar. He had just finished dinner, so good a dinner that he was +congratulating his wife on it as she sat knitting on the other side of +the fire. If he had a complaint to make at all, it was perhaps that the +fire was a little too hot; perhaps when he went upstairs he would find +that a little too hot also was the bottle in his bed. One has these +hardships to face. To complete the picture, I ask you to imagine a door +closed rather noisily kitchenwards, and an exclamation of annoyance +from Mr. Smith. He passes it off by explaining that he was thinking of +the baby rather than of himself.</p> + +<p>"Well, there you have this J. P. Smith person ... and at the same hour +what was this man Mackinnon doing? I don't know; you do. But perhaps +you will understand now why I want to say 'Thank you.' I know what you +will answer: 'Good Lord, I'm only doing my job, I don't want to be +<i>kissed</i> for it.' My dear Mackinnon, you don't understand. I am not +very kindly writing to you; you are very kindly letting me write. This +is <i>my</i> birthday, not yours. I give myself the pleasure of thanking +you; as a gentleman you cannot refuse it to me.</p> + +<p>"Yours gratefully, <span class="sc">J. P. Smith</span>."</p> + +<p>"You dear," said Mrs. Jeremy. "He'll simply love it."</p> + +<p>Jeremy grunted.</p> + +<p>"If I were Mackinnon," he said, "I should prefer the muffler."</p> + +<p class="author"> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A.A.M.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<a href="images/089full.jpg"> +<img src="images/089.jpg" width="650" height="451" alt="THE "KULTUR" CUT" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p class="center">THE "KULTUR" CUT.</p> +<p><span class="sc">There is a strong patriotic movement in Germany towards a national +ideal in tailorings.</span></p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">BEASTS AND SUPERBEASTS.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>[<i>A German zoologist has discovered in German New Guinea a new kind +of opossum to which he proposes to give the name of</i> Dactylopsila +Hindenburgi.]</p></blockquote> + +<p> +At the Annual Convention of the Fishes, Birds and Beasts, +Which opened with the usual invigorating feasts, +The attention of the delegates of feather, fur and fin +Was focussed on a wonderful proposal from Berlin. +</p> +<p> +The document suggested that, to signalise the feats +Of the noble German armies and the splendid German fleets, +Certain highly honoured species, in virtue of their claims, +Should be privileged in future to adopt Germanic names. +</p> +<p> +To judge by the resultant din, the screams and roars and cries, +The birds were most ungrateful and the quadrupeds likewise; +And the violence with which they "voiced" their angry discontent +Was worthy of a thoroughbred Hungarian Parliament. +</p> +<p> +The centipede declared he'd sooner lose a dozen legs +Than wear a patronymic defiled by human dregs; +And sentiments identical, in voices hoarse with woe, +Were emitted by the polecat and by the carrion crow. +</p> +<p> +The rattlesnake predicted that his rattle would be cracked +Before the name <i>Bernhardii</i> on to his tail was tacked; +And an elderly hyæna, famed for gluttony and greed, +Denounced the suffix <i>Klucki</i> as an insult to its breed. +</p> +<p> +Most impressive and pathetic was the anguish of the toad +When he found the name <i>Lissaueri</i> had on him been bestowed; +And a fine man-eating tiger said he'd sooner feed with <span class="sc">Shaw</span> +Than allow the title <i>Treitschkei</i> to desecrate his jaw. +</p> +<p> +But this memorable meeting was not destined to disperse +Without a tragedy too great for humble human verse; +For, on hearing that <i>Wilhelmi</i> had to his name been tied, +The skunk, in desperation, committed suicide. +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Count <span class="sc">Reventlow</span> in the <i>Deutsche Tageszeitung</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"It is an established fact that when our airships were, in order +to fly to the fortified place of Great Yarmouth, merely flying +over other places or cities, they were shot at from these places. +It may be assumed with certainty that these shots, which were +aimed at the airships from below, hit them, and probably they +wounded or even killed occupants of the airships. This involves an +English franc-tireur attack, ruthlessly carried out in defiance of +International Law and in the darkness of the night, upon the German +airships, which, without the smallest hostile action, wanted to fly +away over these places....</p> + +<p>The airship is a recognised weapon of war, and yet people in England +seem to demand that it shall regard itself as fair game for the +murders performed by a fanatical civil population, and shall not have +the right to defend itself."</p></blockquote> + +<p>By the offer of a princely salary, <i>Mr. Punch</i> has tried to tempt Count +<span class="sc">Reventlow</span> to join the staff in Bouverie Street. In vain. As +the chief humorist of Central Europe he feels that his services are +indispensable to the Fatherland.</p> + +<p class="break-before"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/090full.jpg"> +<img src="images/090.jpg" width="800" height="501" alt="Oh, Mother" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p>"<span class="sc">Oh, Mother! how I wish I was an angel!</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Darling! what makes you say that?</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Oh, because then, Mother, I could drop bombs on the Germans.</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">OVERWORK.</p> + +<p>The poets having indicated that they were going to take a few moments +off, the words were free to stand at ease also. They did so with a +great sigh of relief, especially one whom I recognised by his intense +weariness and also by the martial glow on his features, his muddied and +torn clothes and the bandage round his head.</p> + +<p>"You're 'war,'" I said, crossing over to speak to him.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied, "I'm 'war,' and I'm very tired."</p> + +<p>"They're sweating you?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Horribly," he replied. "In whatever they're writing about just now, +both poets and song-writers, they drag me in, and they will end lines +with me. Just to occur somewhere and be done with I shouldn't so much +mind; but they feel in honour bound to provide me with a rhyme. Still," +he added meditatively, "there are compensations."</p> + +<p>"How?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "I find myself with more congenial companions than I +used to have. In the old days, when I wasn't sung at all, but was used +more or less academically, I often found myself arm-in-arm with 'star' +or 'far' or 'scar,' and I never really got on with them. We didn't +agree. There was something wrong. But now I get better associates; +'roar,' for example, is a certainty in one verse. In fact I don't mind +admitting I'm rather tired of 'roar,' true friends as we are.</p> + +<p>"But I can see the poor young poetical fellows' difficulty; and, after +all, I do roar, don't I? Just as my old friend 'battle' here"—I bowed +to his companion—"is attached to 'rattle.'</p> + +<p>"Of course," he went on, "I'm luckier than 'battle' really, because +I do get a few other fellows to walk with, such as 'corps'—very +often—and 'before' and—far too often—'gore'; but 'battle' is tied up +to 'rattle' for the rest of his life. They're inseparable—'battle' and +'rattle.' Directly you see one you know that the other is only a few +words away. We call them the Siamese Twins."</p> + +<p>I laughed sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"There's 'cattle,'" I said, remembering 'The War-song of Dinas Vawr.'</p> + +<p>"No use just now," said 'war.' "'Rattle' is the only rhyme at the +moment; just as General <span class="sc">French</span> has his favourite one, and +that's 'trench.' If 'battle' and 'rattle' are like the Siamese Twins, +'<span class="sc">French</span>' and 'trench' are like Castor and Pollux. Now and +then the <span class="sc">Commander-in-chief</span> makes the enemy 'blench,' but for +one 'blench' you get a thousand 'trenches.' No, I feel very sorry, I +can tell you, for some of these words condemned to such a monotony of +conjunction; and really I oughtn't to complain. And to have got rid of +'star' is something."</p> + +<p>I shook him by the hand.</p> + +<p>"But there's one thing," he added, "I do object to, which not even +poor old 'battle' has to bear, and that's being forced to march with a +rhyme that isn't all there. I have to do that far too often; and it's +annoying."</p> + +<p>I asked him to explain.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "those poets who look forward are too fond of linking +me to 'o'er'—'when it's 'o'er,' don't you know (they mean 'over'). +That's a little humiliating, I always think. You wouldn't like +constantly going about with a man who'd lost his collar, would you?"</p> + +<p>I said that I shouldn't.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's like that," he said, "I am not sure that I would not prefer +'star' to that, or 'scar,' after all. They, at any rate, meant well and +were gentlemanly. But 'o'er'? No.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote> +<p>The new book for schools: "Kaiser: De Bello Jellicoe."</p> +</blockquote> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 615px;"> +<a href="images/091full.jpg"> +<img src="images/091.jpg" width="615" height="800" alt="WHO FORBIDS THE BANDS" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p class="center">WHO FORBIDS THE BANDS?</p> + +<p>["A band revives memories, it quickens association, it opens and unites +the hearts of men more surely than any other appeal can, and in this +respect it aids recruiting perhaps more than any other agency."—<i>Mr. +<span class="sc">Rudyard Kipling</span> at the Mansion House meeting promoted by the +Recruiting Bands Committee.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">THE AMATEUR POLICEMAN.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Friend Robert, if mere imitation</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Expresses one's deepest regard,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How oft has such dumb adoration</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Been shown on his beat by your bard;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In dress, though the semblance seems hollow,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">How oft since my duties began</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have I striven, poor "special," to follow</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The modes of the Man.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I have aped till my muscles grew rigid</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Your air of Olympian calm;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have sought, when my framework was frigid,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To "stand" it <i>sans</i> quiver or qualm;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I have also endeavoured to copy</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The stealthiest thud of your boot;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And, with features as pink as a poppy,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Your solemn salute.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In vain. Every effort is futile,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And, while I am "doing my share"</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To guard (after midnight) a mute isle,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or the bit of it close by my lair,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Tis perfectly plain that, although it</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Is easy to offer one's aid,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The P.C., alas! like the poet,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Is born and not made.</span><br /> +</p> + + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 342px;"> +<a href="images/093full.jpg"> +<img src="images/093.jpg" width="342" height="450" alt="Recruit speaking of his late employer" /> +</a> +<div class="caption"><p><i>Recruit</i> (<i>speaking of his late employer</i>). "<span class="sc">An' 'e +says to me, 'It wants a coal-hammer to knock it into your 'ead.'</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Friend.</i> "<span class="sc">Did 'e say that?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Recruit.</i> "<span class="sc">Yes, 'e did. But I let 'im 'ave it back. I says, 'It +'ud blooming well take more than you to do it!'</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="ph3">THE UNLIKELY DUKE.</p> + +<p>The proposal, made the other day at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank +at Birmingham, that a dukedom should be conferred upon Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd +George</span>, in recognition of his skilful handling of the financial +crisis, has aroused intense interest both in Park Lane and in the Welsh +valleys.</p> + +<p>Even among certain of the right honourable gentleman's colleagues in +the Cabinet the idea meets with warm approval.</p> + +<p>There has not yet been a meeting of Dukes to consider how to deal with +any situation that may arise; but there is little doubt that their +Graces are keeping a keen look-out, and it may be expected that when +the time comes their plans will be found to be more or less complete.</p> + +<p>Down in Wales there is considerable rivalry already concerning the +title the <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> should take. A strong local committee +is being formed at Criccieth to urge the claims of that delightful +resort; but it may expect to receive strenuous opposition from the +people of Llanpwllwynbrynogrhos, who argue that, while Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd +George's</span> connection with their village may be slight, it would be +highly desirable that there should exist the obstacle of such a name +whenever the new Duke's fellow Dukes wished to refer to him.</p> + +<p>Since it was at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank that the idea was put +forward, we are inclined to think that whenever a title is required the +<span class="sc">Chancellor</span> might select the "Duke of Lloyds;" and on the other +hand, of course, a bank professing such admiration for Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd +George</span> could not pay a prettier compliment than by styling itself +"<span class="sc">Lloyd George's</span> Bank."</p> + +<p>We profoundly hope that there may be no truth in the ugly rumour that +one of the <span class="sc">Chancellor's</span> servants, who has been in the family +for many years and imbibed its principles, has declared emphatically +that it would be against her principles to serve in a ducal household.</p> + +<p>Needless to say there has been a flutter among estate agents. Already +vast tracts of deer-forest in Scotland have been offered at astonishing +terms to the proposed Duke, and these not only comprise some of the +finest scenery in the British Isles, but afford opportunity for +thoroughly interesting agricultural development.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George's</span> own views on the whole subject were uttered +in Welsh, and we have no doubt our readers will quite understand that +they cannot be printed here.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">Our Dumb Friends.</p> + +<p>The tradition of strong language established by our armies in Flanders +seems to be well kept up to-day, if we may judge by the following Army +Order issued at the Front:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"Though on occasion it is necessary to tie horses to trees, this +should be avoided whenever possible, as they are sure to bark and thus +destroy the trees."</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">A TERRITORIAL IN INDIA.</p> + +<p class="ph4">III.</p> + +<p>My dear <i>Mr. Punch</i>,—Although, being no longer a soldier in anything +but name (and pay), I pursue in India the inglorious vocation of a +clerk, I am nevertheless still in a position to perceive the splendid +qualities of the British Officer. Always a humble admirer of his skill +and bravery in the field, I have now in addition a keen appreciation of +his imperturbable <i>sangfroid</i> when confronted with conditions of great +difficulty in the office.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 329px;"> +<a href="images/094full.jpg"> +<img src="images/094.jpg" width="329" height="400" alt="Patriotic Old Person" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p><i>Patriotic Old Person</i> (<i>to individual bespattered by +passing motor-bus</i>). "<span class="sc">There, young feller! It'd never 'ave bin +noticed if you'd bin in khaki!</span>"</p></div> +</div> +<p>I am working in the Banana (to circumvent the Censor I am giving it an +obviously fictitious name) Divisional Area Headquarters Staff Office, +which is situated in the town of ——. Suppose we call it Mango. There +are four brigades in the Banana Divisional Area, one of which is the +Mango Brigade. Now it so happens that the General Officer Commanding +the Banana Divisional Area is at present also the General Officer +Commanding the Mango Brigade; consequently this is the sort of thing +which is always happening. The G.O.C. of the Mango Brigade writes to +himself as G.O.C. of the Banana Divisional Area: "May I request the +favour of a reply to my Memorandum No. 25731/24/Mobn., dated the 3rd +January, 1915, relating to paragraph 5 of Army Department letter No. +S.M.—43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, which amplifies +the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. XXIII.?" +Next morning he goes into the Divisional Office and finds himself +confronted by this letter. A mere civilian might be tempted to take a +mean advantage of his unusual situation. Not so the British Officer. +The dignified traditions of the Indian Army must not lightly be set +aside. The G.O.C. of the Brigade and the G.O.C. of the Divisional Area +must be as strangers for the purposes of official correspondence.</p> + +<p>So he writes back to himself:—"Your reference to Army Department +letter No. S.M.—43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, +is not understood. May I presume that you allude to Army Department +letter No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914, which +deals with the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. +XXIII.?"</p> + +<p>Later on he goes to the Brigade Office and writes—"... I would +respectfully point out that Army Department letter No. S.M.—43822/19 +(A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, cancels Army Department letter +No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914."</p> + +<p>At his next visit to the Divisional Office he writes back again:—"... +Army Department letter No. S.M.—43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th +December, 1914, does not appear to have been received in this office. +Will you be so good as to favour me with a copy?"</p> + +<p>So it goes on, and our dual G.O.C., like the gallant soldier he is, +never flinches from his duty, never swerves by a hair's-breadth from +his difficult course. This surely is the spirit which has made the +Empire.</p> + +<p>But I expect you are weary of this subject. Still, you must please not +forget that we are officially on active service, and active service +means perhaps more than you people at home imagine. Last Sunday, after +tiffin, I came upon one of my colleagues lounging in an easy-chair, one +of those with practical extensions upon which you can stretch your legs +luxuriously. With a cigarette between his lips and an iced drink beside +him, he sat reading a magazine—a striking illustration of the fine +resourcefulness of the Territorials in adapting themselves to novel +conditions.</p> + +<p>"What I object to about active service," he said, as I came up, "is the +awful hardship we have to put up with. When we were mobilised I didn't +anticipate that our path would be exactly strewn with roses, but I +confess I never expected this. I shall write to <i>The Times</i>. The public +ought to know about it;" and he settled himself more deeply into his +chair, blew out a cloud of smoke, and with a resolute expression sipped +his iced lemonade.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Punch</i>, you will be pained to hear that I have lost my hard-earned +reputation for sobriety through no fault of my own. A few days ago I +went up to the barracks to draw my regimental pay, and found that a +number of articles of clothing, issued by the Army authorities, had +accumulated for me during my absence—a pair of khaki shorts, a grey +flannel shirt with steel buttons the size of sixpences, a pair of +worsted socks and three sheets (yes, sheets for the bed; so luxuriously +do we fare in India). Perhaps you can guess what happened.</p> + +<p>"Oh, by the way, have you drawn your clothing?" asked the Lieutenant, +when he had paid me.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir," I replied.</p> + +<p>"What have you got?"</p> + +<p>"Sheets, shirt, shorts and shocks—shots, sheeks and shirks——"</p> + +<p>"That will do," he interrupted sternly. "You had better come to me +again when you are in a condition to express yourself clearly."</p> + +<p>Thus easily is a reputation acquired by years of self-control destroyed +by the pitfalls of our native tongue.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, some people have enviable reputations thrust upon +them. This is the case with my friend, Private Walls. The other night, +half of what remains of the Battalion were called out to repel an +expected attack on the barracks by the other half. Walls chanced to be +placed in a rather isolated position, and, armed with six rounds of +blank, he took cover behind a large boulder, after receiving whispered +orders from his officer not to fire if he suspected the approach of the +enemy, but to low like an ox, when assistance would immediately be sent +to him.</p> + +<p>Though a little diffident of his powers of lowing, Walls determined to +do his best, and fell sound asleep.</p> + +<p>Now, if you or I had been in his position, an officer would certainly +have discovered us in no time, and dire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> punishment would have +followed. But Walls slumbered on undisturbed, until a terrific roar in +his ear caused him to wake with a start. What had happened? He seized +his rifle and peered into the darkness. Then, to his amazement, he saw +the boulder before him rise to its feet and shamble off into the night. +It was an ox, and it had lowed!</p> + +<p>You might think his luck finished there. But no. The officer and his +men came stealthily up, and Walls unblushingly declared that he had +heard the foe approaching. It may sound incredible, but it is a fact +that a few minutes later the enemy did actually appear, and were, of +course, driven back after the customary decimation.</p> + +<p>And Walls unhesitatingly accepted the congratulations of his superior +on his vigilance, and did not even blench when assured that his was the +finest imitation ever heard of the lowing of an ox.</p> + +<p class="center"> +Yours ever,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;"><span class="sc">One of the <i>Punch</i> Brigade</span>.</span> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<a href="images/095full.jpg"> +<img src="images/095.jpg" width="650" height="434" alt="Officer. "Didn't I tell yer 'e was no good" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p><i>Officer.</i> "<span class="sc">Didn't I tell yer 'e was no good? Look +at 'im—playin' football when us fellers is drillin'!</span>"</p></div> +</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"The German resistance is formidable but the allies' artillery has +forced the enemy to retire from some trenches abandinging prisoners, +dead, and wounded."—<i>Buenos Aires Standard.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>This gives the lie to the many stories of German callousness that we +hear.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">TURNS OF THE DAY.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>[<i>A fifteen-minutes' speech on affairs by a public man has been added +to the programme of the Empire music-hall.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p>There is no truth that the late Viceroy of <span class="sc">Ireland</span> is to +appear at the Alhambra in a brief address, explaining why he chose the +title of "Tara."</p> + +<p>All efforts to induce Mr. <span class="sc">Masterman</span> to appear at the Holborn +Empire next week in a burlesque of <i>The Seats of the Mighty</i> have +failed.</p> + +<p>Great pressure is being brought to bear upon Mr. <span class="sc">Bernard Shaw</span> +to induce him to add gaiety to the Palladium programme next week by a +twenty-minutes' exposure of England's folly, hypocrisy, fatuity and +crime, a subject on which he knows even more than is to be known.</p> + +<p>Up to the present moment Mr. <span class="sc">H. G. Wells</span> has refused all +offers to appear at the Palace in the song from <i>Patience</i>, "When I +first put this uniform on."</p> + +<p>Any statement that Mr. <span class="sc">Edmund Gosse</span> is to appear at the +Coliseum at every performance next week, in a little sketch entitled +<i>Swinging the Censor</i>, is to be taken with salt.</p> + +<p>A similar incredulity should probably be adopted in regard to the +alluring rumour that Mr. <span class="sc">Compton Mackenzie</span> will also +contribute at the same house a nightly telephonic sketch from Capri, +"<i>What Tiberius thinks of 'Sinister Street.'</i>"</p> + +<p>Negotiations are still pending, though with little chance of success, +between the management of the Hippodrome and Canon <span class="sc">Rawnsley</span>, +with a view to his giving a brief address nightly on the subject "How +to write a War sonnet in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>We have good reason to fear that, in spite of reiterated announcements +of their engagement, Mr. <span class="sc">Max Pemberton</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Max +Beerbohm</span> will not appear on Valentine's Day, and subsequently, at +the Chiswick Empire in a topical War duologue as "The Two Max."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph4">Omar Khayyam on the North Sea battle.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They say the <i>Lion</i> and the <i>Tiger</i> sweep</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where once the Huns shelled babies from the deep,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And <i>Blücher</i>, that great cruiser—12-inch guns</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Roar o'er his head but cannot break his sleep.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="break-before"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3" >YUSSUF.</p> + +<p>"Look here," exclaimed the latest subaltern, hurling himself at the +remains of the breakfast, "those rotters have sent me a putrid sword!"</p> + +<p>"A putrid sword, dear?" his mother repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, confound them!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you want a sword at all," Dolly chipped in. "Captain +Jones says the big guns are the only weapons that count."</p> + +<p>"And how will Archie toast his crumpets?" retorted Henry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, shut up, you kids! I say, do you mind having a look at it?" The +latest subaltern was actually appealing to me. I stifled a blush, and +thought I should like to, very much.</p> + +<p>After breakfast Archibald and myself retired to the armoury.</p> + +<p>"There!" he exclaimed indignantly. "What do you think of that?" It was +lying on the bed with a black-and-gold hilt and a wonderful nickel +scabbard with gilt blobs at the top. I looked at it.</p> + +<p>"Well," I ventured, "it's a sword."</p> + +<p>Archibald sniffed.</p> + +<p>"And," I continued hastily, "it's very nice. Perhaps they've run out of +the ordinary ones. Does it cut?"</p> + +<p>He drew it, and I, assuming the air of a barber's assistant, felt its +edge.</p> + +<p>"Of course," I remarked, "I don't know much about it, but if there <i>is</i> +anything left to cut when you go out I think it should be stropped a +bit first."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the proud owner, "I ordered it at Slashers', and they +ought to know. Suppose we rub it up on young Henry's emery wheel?"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," I cried; "I should like to see it on."</p> + +<p>Archibald buckled on the scabbard and I slapped the trusty blade home.</p> + +<p>It certainly looked a bit odd. I surveyed it in profile.</p> + +<p>"No!" I exclaimed, "there is something about it ... a Yussuf air ... +that little bend at the tip is reminiscent of Turkestan."</p> + +<p>We found Henry in the workshop.</p> + +<p>"My fairy godmother," he shouted, "did you pinch it from the pantomime?"</p> + +<p>We did not deign to reply. Gingerly, very gingerly, we applied Yussuf +to the emery wheel.... Little flakes came off him—just little flakes.</p> + +<p>It was very distressing.</p> + +<p>The gardener joined us and advised some oil; then the coachman brought +us some polishing sand; bath-brick and whitening we got from the cook.</p> + +<p>It was no good. Nothing could restore those little flakes. So we went +indoors to have a look at the Encyclopædia. But there was nothing there +to help us. Yussuf was suffering from an absolutely unknown disease.</p> + +<p>We put him to bed again.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>After lunch Archibald received the following letter:—</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Dear Sir</span>,—We learn with regret that, by an inadvertence, +the wrong sword has been despatched to you. We now hasten to forward +yours, trusting that the delay has not inconvenienced you. At the same +time our representative will, with your permission, collect the sword +now in your possession as it is of exceptional value, and also has to +be inscribed immediately for presentation.</p> + +<p class="center"> +Your obedient Servants,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;"><span class="sc">Slasher and Co.</span>"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"For presentation," I repeated; "then it's not meant to cut with, and +those blobs really are gold." I touched one respectfully.</p> + +<p>The latest subaltern pulled himself together and rang the bell. +"When a man calls here for a sword," he told the servant, "give him +this"—pointing dramatically at Yussuf. "And Jenkins!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir."</p> + +<p>"Tell him that I have just sailed for ... er—for the Front."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">LE DERNIER CRI.</p> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">Being the Soliloquy of the Oldest Parrot.</span></p> + +<p><i>Hallo! Hallo! Hallo! Polly-olly-wolly! Scratch a poll!</i> It isn't that +I shout the loudest, though I fancy I <i>could</i> keep my end up in the +monkey-house if it came to that. Many a parrot wastes all his energy +in wind. It's brains, not lungs, that make a full crop. Extend your +vocabulary. Another thing—don't make yourself too cheap. The parrot +that always gives his show free lives the whole of his life on official +rations—and nothing else. <i>Half-a-pint o' mild-an'-bitter! Pom! Pom!</i></p> + +<p>I'm the oldest inhabitant, and I've the biggest waist measurement for +my height in Regent's Park. That's my reward. I'll admit I've a bad +memory; most parrots have, except the one that used to sing "Rule +Britannia" and knew the name of every keeper in the Zoo—and <i>he</i> went +into hospital with something-on-the-brain. But <i>I</i>'ve moved with the +times. There aren't many catch-phrases I haven't caught. "Walker," +"Who's Griffiths?" and drawing corks in the old "Champagne Charlie" +days; and "You're another," "Get your hair cut," "Does your mother know +you're out?" "My word, if I catch you bending!" "After you with the +cruet." But I've a bad memory. <i>Have a banana? I don't think!...</i></p> + +<p>I'm never quite sure of myself, and so just have to say what comes +uppermost. <i>Shun! Stanterteeze! Form-forz, you two! Half-a-pint o'....</i></p> + +<p>I've found it doesn't do to repeat <i>everything</i> the sergeant says. +We had a Naval parrot once.... Why, take for instance that young man +with his greasy feathers brushed back like a parrakeet's. He looked +good for a few grapes any day, but when, just to encourage him, I +chortled, "<span class="sc">Kitchener</span> wants yer!" he frowned and walked away. I +did good business later, though. Pulled up a bunch of Khaki people by +just shouting "'Alt!" I admired their taste in oranges. <i>Down with the +<span class="sc">Kaiser</span>!</i> By the way, I've shouted "Down with" almost everybody +in my time. <i>Johnny, get your gun; Goobye, Tipperlairlee.</i></p> + +<p>But the best is "<i>Veeve la Fronce</i>." Last week one of those foreign +officers heard me "veeving" softly to myself. In half a minute he'd +collected a dozen of his friends and relatives, and I could see more +coming in the distance. The excitement! My tail! "Marie! Alphonse!" he +shouted. "<i>Regarday dong ce brave wozzo!</i>" They gave me butterscotch; +they gave me muscatels; they gave me a meringue, and lots of little +sweet biscuits (I don't take monkey-nuts these days, thank you!) and +they all talked at once. Then a lovely creature with a cockatoo's crest +on her head bent forward and coaxed me in a voice like ripe bananas. +And there was I sitting like a fool, my mouth crammed and my mind a +blank! The crowd was growing every minute. The cockatoo girl ran to the +kiosk and bought me French nougat; I ate it. Then I made a desperate +effort—"Has anybody here seen Kelly?"</p> + +<p>Bless the camel-keeper! At that very moment I heard him ringing the +"all-out" bell.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>The Times</i> says that the <i>Blücher</i> was the reply of the German +Admiralty to the first British <i>Dreadnought</i>.</p> + +<p>Admiral Sir <span class="sc">David Beatty</span> begs to state that he has forwarded +this reply to the proper quarter.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>We have pleasure in culling the following extract from the account of a +wedding, as set forth in <i>The Silver Leaf</i> (published at Somerset West, +Cape Province):—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"Whilst the register was being signed, Mme. Wortley, of Cape Town, +sang 'Entreat me not to leave thee' with great feeling."</p></blockquote> + +<p>It seems perhaps a little early to discuss the question of marital +separation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 625px;"> +<a href="images/097full.jpg"> +<img src="images/097.jpg" width="625" height="800" alt="HOW TO KEEP FIT. FOR REALLY BUSY MEN" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">HOW TO KEEP FIT. FOR REALLY BUSY MEN.<br /><br /></p></div> + + +<p class="ph4">1. <span class="sc">On the way to the station.</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">2. <span class="sc">Waiting for the train.</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">3. <span class="sc">On the 'bus—"with deep breathing—neck wrists."</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">4. <span class="sc">At the office—the correspondence.</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">5. <span class="sc">Weighing business propositions.</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">6. <span class="sc">Waiting at the telephone.</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">THE VOLUNTEERS.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p><i>Time</i>: 7.30 <span class="sc">P.M.</span> <i>Scene: A large disused barn, where forty +members of the local Volunteer Training Corps are assembled for +drill. They are mostly men well over thirty-eight years of age, but +there is a sprinkling of lads of under nineteen, while a few are men +of "military age" who for some good and sufficient reason have been +unable to join the army. They are all full of enthusiasm, but at +present they possess neither uniform nor arms. Please note that in the +following dialogue the Sergeant alone speaks aloud; the other person</i> +thinks, <i>but gives no utterance to his words</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i> Fall in! Fall in! Come smartly there, fall in</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And recollect that when you've fallen in</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You stand at ease, a ten-inch space between</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Your feet—like this; your hands behind your back—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like this; your head and body both erect;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Your weight well poised on both feet, not on one.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dress by the right, and let each rear rank man</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Quick cover off his special front rank man.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That's it; that's good. Now when I say, "Squad, 'shun,"</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let every left heel swiftly join the right</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Without a shuffling or a scraping sound</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And let the angle of your two feet be</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just forty-five, the while you smartly drop</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hands to your sides, the fingers lightly bent,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thumbs to the front, but every careful thumb</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kept well behind your trouser-seams. Squad, 'shun!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> Ha! Though I cannot find my trouser-seams,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I rather think I did that pretty well.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thomas, my footman, who is on my left,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Batts, the draper, drilling on my right,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And e'en the very Sergeant must have seen</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The lithe precision of my rapid spring.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i> When next I call you to attention, note</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You need not slap your hands against your thighs.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is not right to slap your thighs at all.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> He's looking at me; I am half afraid</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I used unnecessary violence</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And slapped my thighs unduly. It is bad</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That Thomas should have cause to grin at me</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And lose his proper feeling of respect,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Being a flighty fellow at the best;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Batts the draper must not——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Stand at ease!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> Aha! He wants to catch me, but he——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage"> 'Shun!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> Bravo, myself! I did not slap them then.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I am indubitably getting on.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I wonder if the Germans do these things,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And what they sound like in the German tongue.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Germans are a——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Sharply number off</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From right to left, and do not jerk your heads.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><span class="stage">[<i>They number off.</i></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> I'm six, an even number, and must do</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The lion's share in forming fours. What luck</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For Batts, who's five, and Thomas, who is seven.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They also serve, but only stand and wait,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While I behind the portly form of Batts</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Insert myself and then slip out again</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Clear to the front, observing at the word</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The ordered sequence of my moving feet.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come let me brace myself and dare——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Form fours!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> I cannot see the Sergeant; I'm obscured</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Behind the acreage of Batts's back.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Indeed it is a very noble back</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And would protect me if we charged in fours</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Against the Germans, but I rather think</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We charge two deep, and therefore——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Form two deep!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> Thank Heaven I'm there, although I mixed my feet!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I am oblivious of the little things</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That mark the due observance of a drill;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Thomas sees my faults and grins again.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let him grin on; my time will come once more</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">At dinner, when he hands the Brussels sprouts.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><span class="stage">[<i>The drill proceeds.</i></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now we're in fours and marching like the wind.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This is more like it; this is what we need</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To make us quit ourselves like regulars.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Left, right, left, right! The Sergeant gives it out</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As if he meant it. Stepping out like this</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We should breed terror in the German hordes</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And drive them off. The Sergeant has a gleam</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In either eye; I think he's proud of us.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or does he meditate some stratagem</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To spoil our marching?</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">On the left form squad!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> There! He has done it! He has ruined us!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I'm lost past hope, and Thomas, too, is lost;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And in a press of lost and tangled men</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The great broad back of Batts heaves miles away.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><span class="stage">[<i>The Sergeant explains and the drill proceeds.</i></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> No matter; we shall some day learn it all,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The standing difference 'twixt our left and right,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The bayonet exercise, the musketry,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And all the things a soldier does with ease.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I must remember it's a long, long way</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To Tipperary, but my heart's——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Dismiss!</span></p> + +<p class="author"> +R. C. L. +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">MARCH AIRS.</p> + +<p>AT long last the War Office is waking up to the value of bands for +military purposes, and a good deal of interest will be aroused by the +discussion now proceeding as to the best airs for use on the march.</p> + +<p>The following suggestions have been hastily collected by wireless and +other means:—</p> + +<p>From the Trenches: "Why not try 'Come into the garden mud'?"</p> + +<p>From a very new Subaltern: "I had thought of 'John Brown's Body,' but +personally I am more concerned just now with Sam Browne's Belt."</p> + +<p>From a Zeppelin-driver: "There's an old Scotch song that I have tried +successfully on one of our naval lieutenants. It runs like this:—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O, I'll tak the high road and you'll tak' the low road,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">An' I'll be in Yarmouth afore ye."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>From the Captain of the <i>Sydney</i>: "What's the matter with 'The Jolly +Müller'?"</p> + +<p>From President <span class="sc">Wilson</span>: "Have you thought of 'The little rift +within the lute,' as played by our Contra-band?"</p> + +<p>From Admiral <span class="sc">von Tirpitz</span>: "A familiar air with me is 'Crocked +in the cradle of the deep.'"</p> + +<p>From Sir <span class="sc">Edward Grey</span>: "If it could be done diplomatically, I +should like to see recommended, 'Dacia, Dacia, give me your answer, +do.'"</p> + +<p>From the Crew of the <i>Lion</i>: "For England, Home, and Beatty."</p> + +<p>From an East Coast Mayor: "Begone, dull scare!"</p> + +<p>From the King of <span class="sc">Rumania</span>: "Now we shan't be long."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<a href="images/099full.jpg"> +<img src="images/099.jpg" width="650" height="406" alt="Old Farmer-to village Military Critic" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p><i>Old Farmer</i> (<i>to village Military Critic</i>). +"<span class="sc">Strateegy? Dod, man, ye havena as muckle strateegy as wad tak' ye +across Argyle Street unless a polisman helpit ye.</span>"</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>The German War Book</i> (<span class="sc">Murray</span>) is a work in whose authenticity +many of us would have refused to believe this time last year. It is a +pity indeed that it was not then in the hands of all those who still +clung to the theory that the Prussian was a civilised and humane being. +However, now that everyone can read it, translated and with a wholly +admirable preface by Professor <span class="sc">J. H. Morgan</span>, it is to be hoped +that the detestable little volume will have a wide publicity. True, it +can add little to our recent knowledge of the enemy of mankind; but it +is something to have his guiding principles set down upon the authority +of his own hand. Cynical is hardly an adequate epithet for them; +indeed I do not know that the word exists that could do full justice +to the compound of hypocrisy and calculated brutishness that makes up +this manual. It may at first strike the reader as surprising to find +himself confronted by sentiments almost, one might say, of moderation +and benevolence. He will ask with astonishment if the writer has not, +after all, been maligned. Before long, however, he will discover that +all this morality is very carefully made conditional, and that the +conditions are wide. In short, as the Preface puts it, the peculiar +logic of the book consists in "ostentatiously laying down unimpeachable +rules, and then quietly destroying them by debilitating exceptions." +For example, on the question of exposing the inhabitants of occupied +territory to the fire of their own troops—the now notorious Prussian +method of "women and children first"—the <i>War Book</i>, while admitting +pious distaste for such practice, blandly argues that its "main +justification" lies in its success. Thus, with sobs and tears, like +the walrus, the Great General Staff enumerates its suggested list of +serviceable infamies. At the day of reckoning what a witness will this +little book be! Out of their own mouths they stand here condemned +through all the ages.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mrs. <span class="sc">Humphry Ward</span>, chief of novelists-with-a-purpose, +vehemently eschews the detachment of the Art-for-Art's-Saker, while +a long and honourable practice has enabled her to make her stories +bear the burden of her theses much more comfortably than would seem +theoretically possible. <i>Delia Blanchflower</i> (<span class="sc">Ward, Lock</span>) +is a suffrage novel, dedicated with wholesome intent to the younger +generation, and if one compares the talented author's previous +record of uncompromising, and indeed rather truculent, anti-suffrage +utterances one may note (with approval or dismay) a considerable +broadening of view on the vexed question. For her attack here is +delivered exclusively on the militant position. Quite a number of +decent folk in her pages are suffragistically inclined, and there is +a general admission that the eager feet that throng the hill of the +Vote are not by any means uniformly shod in elastic-sided boots, if +one may speak a parable. It is a very notable admission and does the +writer honour; for such revisions are rare with veteran and committed +campaigners. The story is laid in the far-away era of the burnings of +cricket pavilions and the lesser country houses. <i>Delia</i> is a beautiful +goddess-heiress of twenty-two, with eyes of flame and a will of steel, +a very agreeable and winning heroine. Her tutor, <i>Gertrude Marvell</i>, +the desperate villain of the piece, a brilliant fanatic (crossed in +love in early youth), wins the younger girl's affections and inspires +and accepts her dedication of self and fortune to the grim purposes of +the "Daughters of Revolt." <i>Mark Winnington</i>, her guardian, appointed +by her father to counteract the tutor's baleful influence, finds both +women a tough proposition. For <i>Gertrude</i> has brains<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> to back her +fanaticism, and <i>Delia</i> is a spirited handful of a ward. Loyalty to her +consecration and to her friend outlast her belief in the methods of the +revolting ones. Her defences are finally ruined by Cupid, for <i>Mark</i> is +a handsome athletic man of forty or so, a paragon of knightly courtesy +and persuasive speech and silences, and compares very favourably with +the policemen in Parliament Square. Poor <i>Gertrude</i> makes a tragic +end in a fire of her own kindling, so that the moral for the younger +generation cannot be said to be set forth in ambiguous terms.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>Arundel</i> (<span class="sc">Fisher Unwin</span>) is one of those stories that begins +with a Prologue; and as this was only mildly interesting I began to +wonder whether I was going to be as richly entertained as one has by +now a right to expect from Mr. <span class="sc">E. F. Benson</span>. But it appeared +that, like a cunning dramatist, he was only waiting till the audience +had settled into their seats; when this was done, up went the curtain +upon the play proper, and we were introduced to Arundel itself, an +abode of such unmixed and giddy joy that I have been chortling over the +memory of it ever since. Arundel was the house at Heathmoor where lived +<i>Mrs. Hancock</i> and her daughter <i>Edith</i>; and <i>Mrs. Hancock</i> herself, +and her house and her neighbourhood and her car and her servants and +her friends—all, in fact, that is hers, epitomize the Higher Suburbia +with a delicate and merciless satire that is beyond praise. I shall +hurry over the actual story, because that, though well and absorbingly +told, is of less value than the setting. Next door to the <i>Hancocks</i> +lived a blameless young man called <i>Edward</i>, whom for many reasons, +not least because their croquet-lawns, so to speak, "marched," <i>Mrs. +Hancock</i> had chosen as her daughter's husband. So blamelessly, almost +without emotion, these were betrothed, walking among the asparagus beds +on a suitable May afternoon "ventilated by a breath of south-west wind +and warmed by a summer sun," and the course of their placid affection +would have run smooth enough but for the sudden arrival, out of the +Prologue, of <i>Elizabeth</i>, fiercely alive and compelling, the ideal +of poor <i>Edward's</i> dreams. Naturally, therefore, there is the devil +to pay. But, good as all this is, it is <i>Mrs. Hancock</i> who makes the +book, first, last and all the time. She is a gem of purest ray serene, +and my words that would praise her are impotent things. Only unlimited +quotation could do justice to her sleek self-deception and little +comfortable meannesses. In short, as a contemporary portrait, the +mistress of Arundel seems to be the best thing that Mr. <span class="sc">Benson</span> +has yet given us; worth—if he will allow me to say so—a whole +race of <i>Dodos</i>. For comparison one turns instinctively to <span class="sc">Jane +Austen</span>; and I can sound no higher praise.</p> + +<p>Love never seems to run a smooth course for girls of the name of +<i>Joan</i>; their affairs of heart, whatever the final issue may be, have +complex beginnings and make difficult, at times dismal, progress. I +attribute the rejection of the great novel of my youth to the fact +that the heroine, a rosy-cheeked girl with no more serious problems in +life than the organisation of mixed hockey matches, was ineptly given +that unhappy name. Miss <span class="sc">Mary Agnes Hamilton's</span> <i>Joan Traquair</i> +is true to the type. From the start she is handicapped by a bullying +father, an invalid sister, a lack of means and an excess of artistic +temperament, the last of these being not just a casual tendency to +picture galleries and the opera, but the kind of restless passion +which causes people to prefer sunsets to meals and to neglect their +dress. In due course she falls in love with a man called <i>Sebastian</i>, +another name which, if less familiar, is yet a sufficient warning to +the world that its owner is bound to be a nuisance on the hearth. This +<i>Sebastian</i> was an artist, ambitious and of course poor; worse, he had +a touch of genius and—worst of all—he knew it. Nevertheless <i>Joan</i> +became his wife, supposing that this was just the sort of man to make +her happy. Instead, he made her thoroughly miserable, at any rate for +a good long time; but I doubt if any reader, even with all the facts +before him, will anticipate exactly how he did it. I certainly didn't +myself, although I feel now that I ought to have done. The point of +<i>Yes</i> (<span class="sc">Heinemann</span>) is both new and true; I recommend the book +with confidence to all interested in the Joans and Sebastians of this +world.</p> + + + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 329px;"> +<a href="images/100full.jpg"> +<img src="images/100.jpg" width="329" height="450" alt="Not though the soldier knew Someone had +blundered" /></a> + +<div class="caption"><p><span class="sc">Not though the soldier knew Someone had +blundered.</span></p></div> +</div> + + +<p class="ph4">Our Cheery Allies.</p> + +<p class="center">A letter from a Japanese firm:—</p> + +<blockquote> + + +<p>"<span class="sc">Dear Sirs</span>,—Since writing you last we have no favours to +acknowledge, however, we are pleased to enter into business relation +with your respectable firm. We were delighted that the Allies +always behaved bravely in the recent battle and now are in the very +favourable condition. Our army took the possetion of Tsingtau and our +only hope remaindered is to hear the annihiration of the enemy force. +We trust the Allies will beat the Enemy in near future though we +cannot assert the time. If there are any samples of Japanese goods as +substitute of German's, kindly let us know, and we shall send the same +as soon as possible."</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph3">ENCYCLOPÆDIA GERMANICA.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins from dark aerial heights</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pick out the peaceful places while people sleep o' nights.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins steer clear of fort and gun;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such things of dreadful menace repel the flying Hun.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins show Science at the call</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of all the savage instincts that hold them tight in thrall.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins—<i>our</i> women lying dead—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The whole of German "Kultur" is there from A to Z.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44654 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/44654-h/images/081.jpg b/44654-h/images/081.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..52603ac --- /dev/null +++ b/44654-h/images/081.jpg diff --git a/44654-h/images/081full.jpg b/44654-h/images/081full.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..be2fc46 --- /dev/null +++ b/44654-h/images/081full.jpg diff --git a/44654-h/images/083.jpg b/44654-h/images/083.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e5cdac2 --- /dev/null +++ b/44654-h/images/083.jpg diff --git a/44654-h/images/083full.jpg b/44654-h/images/083full.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..80ad669 --- /dev/null +++ b/44654-h/images/083full.jpg diff --git a/44654-h/images/085.jpg b/44654-h/images/085.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..125e4eb --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #44654 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44654) diff --git a/old/44654-8.txt b/old/44654-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d889e1a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/44654-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2248 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 148, +February 3, 1915, by Various, Edited by Sir Owen Seaman + + +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. 148, February 3, 1915 + + +Author: Various + +Editor: Sir Owen Seaman + +Release Date: January 13, 2014 [eBook #44654] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, +VOL. 148, FEBRUARY 3, 1915*** + + +E-text prepared by Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 44654-h.htm or 44654-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44654/44654-h/44654-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44654/44654-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 148 + +FEBRUARY 3, 1915. + + + + + + + +CHARIVARIA. + +"Celerity," said the German CHANCELLOR to our representative +at Berlin on the eve of the War, "is essential lo us." It has, however, +taken him over five months to discover what he meant by his "scrap of +paper" speech. + +* * * + +As a substitute for the International Railway Time Table Conference, +Germany has invited Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Austria, Switzerland and +Italy to a joint conference to be held on February 3rd. Certainly +something will have to be done for the KAISER'S Time Tables. +They have been most unsatisfactory ever since the outbreak of the War. + +* * * + +A German paper reports that the KAISER is in excellent health +now, and that his girth has distinctly increased during the War. His +patriotic countrymen must be delighted at this fresh extension of +Kaiser-tum. + +* * * + +The omission of the GERMAN EMPEROR to send a telegram +of condolence to KING VICTOR EMMANUEL on the occasion +of the earthquake has called forth severe comments in Italy. The +KAISER is said to have been anxious to create the impression +that he sent the earthquake himself as a caution. + +* * * + +ENVER PASHA is said to have now returned to Constantinople. +His place in the Egyptian Expeditionary Force will, it is thought, be +taken by REVERS PASHA. + +* * * + +The EX-KHEDIVE'S war-cry: "Geneva for the Egyptians!" + +* * * + +"The GERMAN EMPEROR," said General VON KRESSENSTEIN, +the other day, in a speech to Turkish officers and men, "is a sincere +father to Islam." This statement was very necessary as many Turkish +soldiers, judging by their experience of German officers, had imagined +that the KAISER was Islam's stepfather. + +* * * + +Articles entitled "_Unser Hass gegen England_," Mr. VALENTINE +WILLIAMS tells us, continue to appear in the German Press, and a +dear old lady writes to say that she presumes the Hass in question is +the KAISER. + +* * * + +We are sorry to hear that a Scotch prisoner in Germany got into serious +trouble for referring in a letter to the fact that he was a member of +the Burns Society. The authorities imagined this to be an incendiary +association. + +* * * + +Those wideawake Germans have discovered further evidence of a shortage +of arms in our country. Attention is being drawn in Berlin to the fact +that the London County Council has decided to defer the proposal to +have a coat-of-arms until the conclusion of the War. + +* * * + +We hear that Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL is delighted at the +success of his expression, "the baby-killers," which has taken on +so wonderfully and promises to have a greater run even than Mr. +ASQUITH'S "Wait and see." Fortunately in these times there is +no jealousy between politicians. + +* * * + +_The Observer_ is wondering whether, in view of the threat of Zeppelin +raids, we are taking sufficient precautions in regard to our national +treasures. It may relieve our contemporary to know that at least one +post-impressionist has removed all his works to a secret destination in +the country. + +* * * + +During a recent aerial attack on Dunkirk some bombs, we are told, set +fire to a woollen warehouse. This just shows the danger of constructing +a warehouse of such inflammable material. + +* * * + +The War Office, _The Express_ tells us, recently requested the borough +of Sunderland to raise a brigade of field artillery. The Mayor, +however, is reported to be a Quaker and opposed to War on principle, +and it is stated that the local recruiting committee has decided to +respect the Mayor's conscientious scruples. Suggested motto for the +town, "Let Sunderland Quake." + +* * * + +Speaking of the new Lord of Appeal, a contemporary says, "Mr. Justice +Bankes is noted for his pleasant appearance, and for the fact that he +has never been known to raise his voice." He does not, in fact, belong +to the firm of Bankes and Brays. + +* * * + +As a result of the War there is a famine in glass, and prices are +up nearly 100 per cent. Here surely is a Heaven-sent chance for the +Crystal Palace to turn itself into a financial success. + +* * * + +The strike of Billingsgate fish porters was, we hear, settled in the +nick of time. The men were just beginning to brush up their language. + + * * * * * + +_The Chicago Tribune_ as quoted in _The Sunday Times_:-- + + "'C'est incredible!' remarked the thorough Parisian." + +"Pas demi," we retort in our best London accent. + + * * * * * + + "The Secretary of the Admiralty makes the following announcement:-- + + Goods for his Majesty's ships which have hitherto been sent by mail, + addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dingwall,' should in future be + addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dngwall.'" + + _Scarborough Daily Post._ + +We obey reluctantly. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: HOCH AYE! + +SCENE: _A lonely part of the Scottish Coast._ + +_German Spy_ (_who has been signalling and suddenly notices that he is +being watched_). "NEIN! NEIN! NEVER SHALL YOU LAND ON MY BELOVED +SHCOTCHLAND!"] + + * * * * * + +A THOUSAND STRONG. + + A thousand strong, + With laugh and song, + To charge the guns or line a trench, + We marched away + One August day, + And fought beside the gallant French. + + A thousand strong, + But not for long; + Some lie entombed in Belgian clay; + Some torn by shell + Lie, where they fell, + Beneath the turf of La Bassée. + + But yet at night, + When to the fight + Eager from camp and trench we throng, + Our comrades dead + March at our head, + And still we charge, a thousand strong! + + * * * * * + +MOSES II. + +(_To the New Lord of Islam._) + + He led the Chosen People forth; + Over the Red Sea tramped their legions; + They wandered East, they wandered North + Through very vague and tedious regions, + Ploughing a lot of desolating sand + Before they struck the Promised Land. + + And you, who play so many parts, + And figure in such fancy poses, + Now, poring over Syrian charts, + Dressed for the character of MOSES, + In spirit lead your Turks, a happy band, + Bound for another Promised Land. + + Promises you have made before; + And doubtless your adopted Bosches + Deemed the Canal would lend its floor + To pass them through without goloshes, + As though it were a segment of the dry + Peninsula of Sinaï. + + And when they feared to lose their way + You answered them with ready wit: "Oh! + You'll have a pillar of cloud by day, + And through the night a fiery ditto, + But never said that these would be supplied + By airmen on the other side." + + Nor did you mention how the sun + Promotes a thirst in desert places, + Nor how their route was like to run + A little short of green oases, + Because the wells that glad the wanderer's sight + Have been removed by dynamite. + + Nor did you let the Faithful guess + That, on the Pentateuch's own showing, + Israel found the wilderness + Took forty years of steady going; + And after two-score summers, one would think, + Even a camel wants a drink. + + And you yourself, if still alive + And not transferred (we'll say?) to heaven, + Would by the date when they arrive + Have touched the age of 97, + And scarcely be in quite the best condition + To share their labour's full fruition. + + Come down, O fool, from Pisgah's heights, + Where, stung by Furies misbegotten, + You counterfeit Mosaic flights, + Aching for Egypt's corn and cotton; + Think how it makes the local fellah smile + To hear your _Watch upon the Nile!_ + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +The Scramble. + + "Near Bir Muhadata a British hydroplane dropped a bob on a Turkish + column, inflicting loss."--_Manchester Guardian._ + +In the mad rush made by the always unpaid Turkish troops to secure this +godsend, there were many casualties. + + * * * * * + +The Journalistic Touch. + + "This was on the morning of January 2, and Grall had had no food and + only a little water since the morning of December 31 _of the previous + year_.--Reuter."--_Daily Chronicle._ + +The italics represent our own endeavour to assist the picture. + + * * * * * + +GERMANY'S WAR STRENGTH. + +Dear _Mr. Punch_,--I cannot for the life of me understand why your +contemporaries should be in such difficulties over the above question +or how it is that they arrive at such diverse estimates. The elements +of the problem are perfectly straightforward. I worked it out on the +back of my ticket in the Tube last night, and as there can be no doubt +whatever about my conclusions I think they ought to be published. + +The present population of Germany for popular purposes (as they always +say) is 70,000,000. All the evidence goes to show that the war is still +popular in Germany, or parts of it, so we may accept that figure. Very +well. Of these, 33,000,000 are males. It seems a good many, but we +shall soon begin to whittle it down. By examining the figures of the +different "age groups" we find that fully five million of these are +under the age of seven and as quite a number are over sixty and others +are incapacitated--we have no space to enter into all these complicated +calculations here--we shall not be far wrong if we deduct at the outset +about 21,175,000 under these heads. This leaves us in round figures +twelve million. + +We now come to the question of losses up to date; and here we must +proceed with caution, for it is above all important to be on the safe +side. The present German losses are computed by the best authorities +at about two million, from all causes, up to 3 P.M. on the +13th ult. From this we must deduct, however, all those who, after being +wounded, have returned to the firing-line--say, half a million. Also +all those who, having been wounded a second time, have returned to the +front,--say, three hundred thousand. Also all those who have been three +times wounded and have still gone back to fight--say, fifty thousand. + +Then again we must remember those who have been invalided home and +recovered, and those who have been missing and are found again. And +there are the men who have been erroneously reported as prisoners, +owing to the Germans' incorrigible habit of exaggerating the number of +their own troops who have fallen into the enemy's hands. + +After all these deductions we may safely put the revised German losses +at 750,000. This should be taken off the twelve million eligible; but +it would, I think, be wise (in order to keep always on the safe side) +to add it on. This gives us 12,750,000. Very well. + +But the industries of the country must be carried on. There are the +railways, agriculture, mining. Let us say five million for these. There +are those great industries without which a nation cannot wage war; +for instance, the makers of Iron Crosses (100,000), the custodians of +ships retained in harbour (50,000), the printers of picture-postcards +(50,000), the writers of Hate-hymns, besides sundry makers of armaments +and things. + +Counting all those in and keeping on the safe side and dealing only +with round figures for popular purposes we may conclude that anything +from one to nine million must be deducted from our last figure to +arrive at a final estimate. + +To sum up, Germany's war strength cannot be more than three million or +less than eleven. This gives us a clear idea of what we have to face. + +I enclose my card in case you should think me an amateur, and have the +honour to remain, + + Yours faithfully, + STATISTICIAN. + + * * * * * + +_Men we do not introduce to the Duke of WESTMINSTER_ I.--The +German Minister of Finance: Dr. HELFFERICH. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE RETURN OF THE RAIDER. + +KAISER. "WELL, I _AM_ SURPRISED!" + +TIRPITZ. "SO WERE WE."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "YES, SIR, THESE ZEPPELIN RAIDS--WORDS CAN'T +DESCRIBE 'EM. THEY'RE--WELL, IF I MIGHT COIN A WORD, SIR--I THINK +THEY'RE 'ORRIBLE!"] + + * * * * * + +WAR COMPUNCTION. + +"I suppose we can't motor over to Potwick, lunch at 'The George,' and +play a round of golf?" said the Reverend Henry. + +"Not without feeling rather--well, rotters and outsiders," said +Sinclair regretfully. + +"At least we couldn't of course go in the big car," said I, "and we +should be almost bound to have lunch at that little tea-shop, and it +wouldn't do to play a whole round of golf." + +"It is rather a nice point," said Henry, "what one can do in War +time without feeling that one is stamping oneself. Sinclair here was +shooting pheasants a fortnight ago." + +"Well, the birds were _there_, you know," said Sinclair, "and it's a +rotten slow business catching them in traps. Besides, we sent them all +to the Red Cross people." + +"The weak spot about golf," said the Reverend Henry, "is that there's +no way of sending the results to the Red Cross. There's really no other +earthly reason why one shouldn't play. There's every reason why one +should, but----" + +"I haven't played since the War began," said I. + +"Nor I. But I have a notion that if one played without caddies and with +old balls----" + +"Or got a refugee for a caddy and grossly overpaid him," Henry put in +hopefully. + +"I know what you want, Sinclair," said I. "I know perfectly well +what you want. You would like to play golf, but you wouldn't feel +comfortable unless you had a notice pinned to your back in some such +terms as these--'THIS MAN, THOUGH HE MAY NOT LOOK IT, IS OVER 38; +HE IS ALSO MEDICALLY UNFIT. HE HAS TWO BROTHERS AND A NEPHEW AT THE +FRONT. HE HAS MORE THAN ONCE TAKEN THE CHAIR AT RECRUITING MEETINGS AND +HE IS ENTERTAINING SEVEN BELGIANS. HE HAS ALREADY SENT THREE SWEATERS +AND A PAIR OF SKI SOCKS TO THE FLEET. THIS IS THE FIRST HOLIDAY HE HAS +HAD FOR THREE MONTHS, AND HE IS NOW PLAYING A ROUND OF GOLF.' Then +you would feel all right." + +"Yes, in your case, Sinclair, it is merely moral cowardice," said +Henry. "But it's queer about golf. Every one admits that billiards is +all right, and--I think--Badminton." + +"Well, perhaps I am a bit over-sensitive," said I, "but I'm bound to +say that even if I were playing billiards in a public place at present +I should feel happier if I used the butt end of the cue." + +"The problem seems to be closely allied," said the Reverend Henry, "to +the problem of Sabbath observance when I was a child. We were very +strict in our household. We were not allowed to play games of any sort +on Sunday so long as they were played according to the accepted rules; +but we discovered after a time that if we played them _wrong_ no one +objected. We should certainly have been punished for playing tennis +with a tennis racquet, but if we played with a walking-stick or the +flat side of a pair of bellows there was not the slightest objection." + +"That's what I feel like," said Sinclair. "I don't want to do the old +things in the old ways." + +"We never have people to dinner now," said I, "but we have shoals to +lunch." + +"It is all deplorably illogical," said the Reverend Henry. "But so long +as one has a sense of decency it seems impossible to scorch about in a +motor bulging with golf clubs." + +"Quite impossible. I propose that we get Mrs. Henry to make us some +sandwiches and go for a long walk." + +It was at this juncture that the morning papers came in with the news +of the battle cruiser victory in the North Sea.... We had a fine run +across the moor in the big car, an excellent lunch at "The George," and +managed to get in two rounds before it was dark. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OUR SPECIAL VOLUNTEER RESERVES. + +_Instructor._ "CHANGE ARMS BY NUMBERS. ONE--TWO----COME ALONG, SIR! +WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT NOW? KEEP YOUR BANJO SOLO FOR THE DOMESTIC +HEARTH."] + + * * * * * + +ON THE SPY TRAIL. + +II. + +People don't always know that Jimmy's dog is a bloodhound. One man +said it was a Great Scott--at least that is what he said when he saw +it. You see, when it is pensive, it sometimes looks like a spaniel and +sometimes like an Airedale--or it would if it hadn't got smooth hair +and a bushy tail which curls. Jimmy was undecided for a long time what +to call it. + +The milkman said Jimmy ought to call it "For instance," and then people +would know what it was for. The milkman thought of a lot more names +before a week was over, for Jimmy's bloodhound tracked down a can of +his milk and lapped it up. It is a very good lapper. It lapped so hard +that Jimmy had to pull the can off its head. Jimmy said it was the +suction and that all good bloodhounds were like that. + +A man stopped Jimmy in the street and asked him if that was the dog +that tracked down the German spy to his lair. Jimmy said it was, and +the man was very pleased: he patted the bloodhound on the head and +said, "Good old Faithful!"--just like that. + +Jimmy showed him the pork-butcher's shop where he did it, and the +man said if Jimmy would wait a minute he would go and buy the dog +some German fruit. Jimmy said the man bought a large kind of sausage +which had a red husk. He then stooped down and said, "Good old chap, +I confer upon you the Order of the Faithful Sausage, 1st class, and +if you catch another German spy I'll give you a season ticket." When +Jimmy's bloodhound saw the red sausage he began to bay, and he hurled +himself upon it with much vigour, Jimmy says. The man watched Jimmy's +bloodhound working, and he said, "_Magna est fidelitas et prevalebit_," +which he said meant that "Old Faithful would down the Germans every +time." + +Jimmy calls his bloodhound Faithful now, and he is keener than ever on +catching another German spy. + +Jimmy says he thought he was on the track of one the other day. He +was walking down a road when suddenly Faithful began straining at the +leash, as if he scented one. But it wasn't a German after all; it was a +goat. It was in a field. Jimmy said he made sure it was a German until +he saw it. + +The goat was having its tea on the far side of the field. Jimmy hadn't +seen the goat before, so he loosed Faithful at it. Faithful bounded +towards the goat very hard at first, and then stopped and began to +deploy. + +Jimmy said the goat was very surprised when it saw Faithful and jumped +three feet into the air all at once. Jimmy says Faithful makes things +do like that. You see Faithful was crawling hand over hand towards it +on the grass, and the goat looked as if it expected Faithful to go off +suddenly. + +Then the goat said "Yes! Yes!" several times with its head and began to +moo. + +Jimmy said the goat must have been winding up the starting handle, for +it suddenly slipped in the clutch and got into top gear in five yards. +It was a flexible goat, Jimmy says. Faithful is a good runner; it has a +kind of side-stroke action when it runs fast, and this puzzled the goat +and made it skid a bit on the grass. + +Jimmy sat on the gate and watched them. After five times round the +field the goat sat down and looked nonplussed. + +Jimmy knows all about goats; he knows what to do with them, and he +showed me. He got it so tame that it would feed out of your hand. It +ate half a newspaper one day and it made it very fiery. Jimmy said it +was the War news. We were trying to harness it to a perambulator Jimmy +had borrowed. Jimmy said it had to have a bell on its neck so that +people would know it was coming, just like the Alps. + +Jimmy said goats could jump from one Alp to the other, and they always +did that in Switzerland and it sounded very pretty in the evening. + +I hadn't got a little bell that tinkled so I brought the dinner bell, +and we tied it on to the goat's neck with a rope. Jimmy said it would +make the goat feel glad. + +It took us a long time to harness the goat properly because it was +so fidgety. There wasn't much room in the cart, but we both managed +to squeeze in, and Faithful ran on in front. The goat doesn't like +Faithful; it has an aversion to him when he bays. Faithful knew the +goat was coming after him because he could hear the bell. + +There was more room for Jimmy when I fell out, but Faithful kept +straight in the middle of the road doing the side-stroke as hard as he +could with both hands. I could hear the bell. Jimmy said a horse and +trap climbed over the hedge to let them pass. The man in the trap said +something to Jimmy, but Jimmy couldn't catch what he said; it was such +a long sentence. Jimmy said they went into an ironmonger's shop, all +of them. Faithful got there first. He deployed amongst some buckets +which were outside the shop. So did the goat. The noise disturbed the +ironmonger. He took his wife and children into the cellar. Jimmy said +it was the noise that did it, and the goat's face. + +The ironmonger's wife told Jimmy she had had a shock; she spoke to him +out of the cellar window. Jimmy says she had a catch in her breath. + +The goat didn't go back to the field very quickly; it was because one +of the wheels was bent and the goat seemed to have caught a hiccough. +That was because it ran so fast after eating the newspaper, Jimmy says. +He says all goats are like that. + +The goat won't eat out of Jimmy's hand now; whenever it sees Jimmy it +tries to climb a tree. A boy told Jimmy that the man who owns the goat +is concerned about it, so Jimmy goes hunting German spies with Faithful +down another road now. + + * * * * * + +The Two Blüchers. + + A century since, joy filled our cup + To hear of BLÜCHER "coming up"; + To-day joy echoes round the town + To hear of _Blücher_ going down. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: IN ORDER THAT NO POSSIBLE MEANS OF INJURING ENGLAND +MAY BE NEGLECTED, IT IS UNDERSTOOD THAT THE GERMAN PROFESSORS OF +NECROMANCY AND WITCHCRAFT HAVE BEEN REQUESTED TO MAKE THE BEST USE OF +THEIR MAGICAL POWERS.] + + * * * * * + +ZEPPELIN DRILL. + +I had often seen the little lady at No. 4, but it is only lately that I +have discovered that there is in her the makings of a General. + +We found out about her strategic dispositions in a roundabout way. Her +maid told the milkman, and in the course of nature the news came to us. +Every night her maid carries into her room a fur coat, a large pair of +boots and a coal-scuttle. + +It is, of course, her preparation to meet a Zeppelin attack. + +Everybody is getting ready. Bulpitt's wife's mother, for +example--Bulpitt is my next-door neighbour--is making him dig a +bomb-proof hole in the garden. Bulpitt thought there might be some +difficulty about getting her into it. I pointed out that there would be +more difficulty in getting her out--the hole is very deep. He said he +didn't worry about that. + +Two nights later we had a scare. Every light went out along the +road and people were doing all kinds of safe things. It turned out +afterwards that Stewart was testing his family Zeppelin drill, and +fired three shots to make it realistic. His wife then put the baby +in the copper with the lid one inch open. She herself stood beside a +certain wall which, according to Stewart, could not be knocked down +because of the stresses and strains that would be set up. + +That was all very well for him; the only thing that went wrong was +that a little water had been left in the copper. But what about poor +Johnson, who had to pile all the mattresses in the coal-cellar? He was +awfully black and angry when he found out. + +And what about Carruthers, who emptied a fire-pail on the drawing-room +fire, and had to explain a long muddy pool to his wife, who is rather +deaf and hadn't heard the shots? + +As for Bulpitt's wife's mother, she was in the pit for over an hour +before we hauled her out. The first time we got her to the surface +she gasped out, quite smilingly, "Now I know what it's like in the +tren----" and then she slipped back with an oozy thud. The second time +she said, "I don't think they'll come ag----" The third time she said, +"I don't care if the Zeppel----" And when we did get her out she said +nothing at all, and I was sorry for Bulpitt. + +Amidst all these scenes of confusion little Miss Agatha at No. 4 stood +at attention in a fur overcoat and a big pair of boots that would +easily slip on, with a coal-scuttle on her head to keep off bombs. She +stood there warm, safe, and respectably clad, waiting till the house +crashed about her and the time came to save herself. + +I hate to think of the Zeppelins coming; but if they do come I +hope--how I hope!--I shall be near No. 4 to see the indomitable little +lady emerge. + + * * * * * + +TEMPORA MUTANTUR. + + In WALPOLE'S time, not over nice, + Each man was said to have his price; + We've changed since then; + For, if my daughter's word is fact, + The world to-day is simply packed + With "priceless" men. + + * * * * * + +Journalistic Candour. + + "When a court-martial was opened for the trial of two sergeants at + Woolwich yesterday one of the officers questioned the right of a + reporter to be present.... The reporter was told to leave, which he + did, after protesting that an official shorthand note was an entirely + different thing from a newspaper report."--_Daily Chronicle._ + + * * * * * + +A LETTER TO THE FRONT. + +Mrs. Jeremy looked up from her knitting. "I want you to do something +for me," she said to her husband. + +"Anything except sing," said Jeremy lazily. + +"It's just to write a letter." + +"My dear, of course. _The Complete Letter-writer_, by J. P. Smith. +Chapter V--'Stiff Notes to Landlords'--shows Mr. Smith at his best. +'Gossipy Budgets, and should they be crossed?'--see Chapter VI. Bless +you, I can write to _anybody._" + +"This is to a man you've never met. He's a private at the Front and his +name is Mackinnon." + +"'Dear Mr. Mackinnon'--that's how I should begin. Do we want to say +anything particular, or are we just trying the new notepaper?" + +Mrs. Jeremy put down her work and gave herself up to explanation. +Private Mackinnon was in a school friend's husband's regiment, and he +never got any letters or parcels from anybody, and the friend's husband +had asked his wife to ask her friends---- + +"Wait a bit," said Jeremy. "We shall want the College of Heralds in +this directly." He took out his pencil and drew up a pedigree:-- + + School. + | + +-------+------+ + | | + J.P.S.=Mrs. J. Friend=Officer. + | + Regiment. + | + +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ + | | | | | | | | | + Mackinnon. + +"There you are. Now _you_ think it's J. P. S.'s turn to write to +Mackinnon." He drew a line from one to the other. "Very well; I shall +tell him about the old school." + +"You do see, don't you?" said Mrs. Jeremy. "All the others get letters +and things from their friends, and poor Mr. Mackinnon gets nothing. +Katharine wants to get up a surprise for him, and she's asking +half-a-dozen of her friends to send him things and write him jolly +letters." She picked up the muffler she had been knitting. "This is for +him, and I said you'd do the letter. You write such jolly ones." + +Jeremy threw away the end of his cigar and got up. + +"Yes, but what about?" he said, running his hand through his hair. +"This is going to be very difficult." + +"Oh, just one of your nice funny letters like you write to me." + +"Quite like that?" said Jeremy earnestly. + +"Well, not quite like that," smiled Mrs. Jeremy; "but you know what I +mean. He'd love it." + +"Very well," said Jeremy, "we'll see what we can do." + +He withdrew to his library and got to work. + +"_My dear Mr. Mackinnon_," he wrote, "_the weather here is perfectly +beastly_." + +He looked at it thoughtfully and then put it on one side. "We won't +destroy it," he said to himself, "because we may have to come back to +it, but at present we don't like it." + +He began another sheet of paper. + +"_My dear Mackinnon, who do you think it is? Your old friend Jeremy +Smith!_" + +He murmured it to himself three or four times, crossed out "old" and +put "new," and then placed this sheet on the top of the other. + +"_My dear Mackinnon, yesterday the Vicar_----" + +"I knew it would be difficult," he said, and took a fourth sheet. +Absently he began to jot down a few possible openings:-- + +"_I am a Special Constable ..._" + +"_Have you read Mrs. Humphry Ward's latest ..._" + +"_I hope the War won't last long ..._" + +"Yes," he said, "but we're not being really funny enough." + +He collected his letters as far as they had gone and took them to his +wife. + +"You see what will happen, darling," he said. "Mr. Mackinnon will read +them, and he will say to himself, 'There's a man called Jeremy P. Smith +who is a fool.' The news will travel down the line. They will tell +themselves in Alsace that J. P. Smith, the Treasurer of the Little +Blessington Cricket Club, is lacking in grey matter. The story will get +across to the Germans in some garbled form; 'Smith off crumpet,' or +something of that sort. It will reach the Grand Duke NICHOLAS; +it will traverse the neutral countries; everywhere the word will be +spread that your husband is, as they say, barmy. I ask you, dear--is it +fair to Baby?" + +Mrs. Jeremy crumpled up the sheets and threw them in the fire. + +"Oh, Jeremy," she said, "you could do it so easily if you wanted to. If +you only said, 'Thank you for being so brave,' it would be something." + +"But you said it had to be a 'jolly' one." + +"Yes, that was silly of me. I didn't mean that. Just write what you +want to write--never mind about what I said." + +"Oh, but that's easy," said Jeremy with great relief; "I can do that on +my head." + +And this was the letter (whether he wrote it on his head or not I +cannot say):-- + +"MY DEAR MR. MACKINNON,--You are not married, I believe, but +perhaps you will be some day when the War is over. You will then get +to know of a very maddening trick which wives have. You hand them a +letter over the coffee-pot beginning, 'Dear Smith, I saw a little +water-colour of yours in the Academy and admired it very much. The +what-do-you-call-it is so well done, and I like that broad effect. +Please accept an earldom,'--but, before they read any of it at all, +they turn to the signature at the end and say, 'Why, Jeremy, it's from +the KING!' And then all your beautiful surprise is gone. + +"Now I don't mention this in order to put you off marriage, because +there is a lot more in it than letters over the coffee-pot, and all the +rest is delightful. But I want to tell you that, if (as I expect) you +are keeping the signature of this letter for the surprise, you will be +disappointed. I am sorry about it. I tried various signatures with a +surprise to them (you would have liked my 'Hall Caine,' I think), but I +decided that I had best stick to the one I have used for so many years, +'J. P. Smith.' It will make you ask that always depressing question, +'Who is J. P. Smith?' but this I cannot help. Besides, I want to tell +you who he is. + +"An hour ago he was sitting in front of a fire of logs, smoking a +cigar. He had just finished dinner, so good a dinner that he was +congratulating his wife on it as she sat knitting on the other side of +the fire. If he had a complaint to make at all, it was perhaps that the +fire was a little too hot; perhaps when he went upstairs he would find +that a little too hot also was the bottle in his bed. One has these +hardships to face. To complete the picture, I ask you to imagine a door +closed rather noisily kitchenwards, and an exclamation of annoyance +from Mr. Smith. He passes it off by explaining that he was thinking of +the baby rather than of himself. + +"Well, there you have this J. P. Smith person ... and at the same hour +what was this man Mackinnon doing? I don't know; you do. But perhaps +you will understand now why I want to say 'Thank you.' I know what you +will answer: 'Good Lord, I'm only doing my job, I don't want to be +_kissed_ for it.' My dear Mackinnon, you don't understand. I am not +very kindly writing to you; you are very kindly letting me write. This +is _my_ birthday, not yours. I give myself the pleasure of thanking +you; as a gentleman you cannot refuse it to me. + +"Yours gratefully, J. P. SMITH." + +"You dear," said Mrs. Jeremy. "He'll simply love it." + +Jeremy grunted. + +"If I were Mackinnon," he said, "I should prefer the muffler." + + A.A.M. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE "KULTUR" CUT. + +THERE IS A STRONG PATRIOTIC MOVEMENT IN GERMANY TOWARDS A NATIONAL +IDEAL IN TAILORINGS.] + + * * * * * + +BEASTS AND SUPERBEASTS. + + [_A German zoologist has discovered in German New Guinea a new kind + of opossum to which he proposes to give the name of_ Dactylopsila + Hindenburgi.] + + At the Annual Convention of the Fishes, Birds and Beasts, + Which opened with the usual invigorating feasts, + The attention of the delegates of feather, fur and fin + Was focussed on a wonderful proposal from Berlin. + + The document suggested that, to signalise the feats + Of the noble German armies and the splendid German fleets, + Certain highly honoured species, in virtue of their claims, + Should be privileged in future to adopt Germanic names. + + To judge by the resultant din, the screams and roars and cries, + The birds were most ungrateful and the quadrupeds likewise; + And the violence with which they "voiced" their angry discontent + Was worthy of a thoroughbred Hungarian Parliament. + + The centipede declared he'd sooner lose a dozen legs + Than wear a patronymic defiled by human dregs; + And sentiments identical, in voices hoarse with woe, + Were emitted by the polecat and by the carrion crow. + + The rattlesnake predicted that his rattle would be cracked + Before the name _Bernhardii_ on to his tail was tacked; + And an elderly hyæna, famed for gluttony and greed, + Denounced the suffix _Klucki_ as an insult to its breed. + + Most impressive and pathetic was the anguish of the toad + When he found the name _Lissaueri_ had on him been bestowed; + And a fine man-eating tiger said he'd sooner feed with SHAW + Than allow the title _Treitschkei_ to desecrate his jaw. + + But this memorable meeting was not destined to disperse + Without a tragedy too great for humble human verse; + For, on hearing that _Wilhelmi_ had to his name been tied, + The skunk, in desperation, committed suicide. + + * * * * * + +Count REVENTLOW in the _Deutsche Tageszeitung_:-- + + "It is an established fact that when our airships were, in order + to fly to the fortified place of Great Yarmouth, merely flying + over other places or cities, they were shot at from these places. + It may be assumed with certainty that these shots, which were + aimed at the airships from below, hit them, and probably they + wounded or even killed occupants of the airships. This involves an + English franc-tireur attack, ruthlessly carried out in defiance of + International Law and in the darkness of the night, upon the German + airships, which, without the smallest hostile action, wanted to fly + away over these places.... + + The airship is a recognised weapon of war, and yet people in England + seem to demand that it shall regard itself as fair game for the + murders performed by a fanatical civil population, and shall not have + the right to defend itself." + +By the offer of a princely salary, _Mr. Punch_ has tried to tempt Count +REVENTLOW to join the staff in Bouverie Street. In vain. As +the chief humorist of Central Europe he feels that his services are +indispensable to the Fatherland. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "OH, MOTHER! HOW I WISH I WAS AN ANGEL!" + +"DARLING! WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT?" + +"OH, BECAUSE THEN, MOTHER, I COULD DROP BOMBS ON THE GERMANS."] + + * * * * * + +OVERWORK. + +The poets having indicated that they were going to take a few moments +off, the words were free to stand at ease also. They did so with a +great sigh of relief, especially one whom I recognised by his intense +weariness and also by the martial glow on his features, his muddied and +torn clothes and the bandage round his head. + +"You're 'war,'" I said, crossing over to speak to him. + +"Yes," he replied, "I'm 'war,' and I'm very tired." + +"They're sweating you?" I asked. + +"Horribly," he replied. "In whatever they're writing about just now, +both poets and song-writers, they drag me in, and they will end lines +with me. Just to occur somewhere and be done with I shouldn't so much +mind; but they feel in honour bound to provide me with a rhyme. Still," +he added meditatively, "there are compensations." + +"How?" I asked. + +"Well," he said, "I find myself with more congenial companions than I +used to have. In the old days, when I wasn't sung at all, but was used +more or less academically, I often found myself arm-in-arm with 'star' +or 'far' or 'scar,' and I never really got on with them. We didn't +agree. There was something wrong. But now I get better associates; +'roar,' for example, is a certainty in one verse. In fact I don't mind +admitting I'm rather tired of 'roar,' true friends as we are. + +"But I can see the poor young poetical fellows' difficulty; and, after +all, I do roar, don't I? Just as my old friend 'battle' here"--I bowed +to his companion--"is attached to 'rattle.' + +"Of course," he went on, "I'm luckier than 'battle' really, because +I do get a few other fellows to walk with, such as 'corps'--very +often--and 'before' and--far too often--'gore'; but 'battle' is tied up +to 'rattle' for the rest of his life. They're inseparable--'battle' and +'rattle.' Directly you see one you know that the other is only a few +words away. We call them the Siamese Twins." + +I laughed sympathetically. + +"There's 'cattle,'" I said, remembering 'The War-song of Dinas Vawr.' + +"No use just now," said 'war.' "'Rattle' is the only rhyme at the +moment; just as General FRENCH has his favourite one, and +that's 'trench.' If 'battle' and 'rattle' are like the Siamese Twins, +'FRENCH' and 'trench' are like Castor and Pollux. Now and +then the COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF makes the enemy 'blench,' but for +one 'blench' you get a thousand 'trenches.' No, I feel very sorry, I +can tell you, for some of these words condemned to such a monotony of +conjunction; and really I oughtn't to complain. And to have got rid of +'star' is something." + +I shook him by the hand. + +"But there's one thing," he added, "I do object to, which not even +poor old 'battle' has to bear, and that's being forced to march with a +rhyme that isn't all there. I have to do that far too often; and it's +annoying." + +I asked him to explain. + +"Well," he said, "those poets who look forward are too fond of linking +me to 'o'er'--'when it's 'o'er,' don't you know (they mean 'over'). +That's a little humiliating, I always think. You wouldn't like +constantly going about with a man who'd lost his collar, would you?" + +I said that I shouldn't. + +"Well, it's like that," he said, "I am not sure that I would not prefer +'star' to that, or 'scar,' after all. They, at any rate, meant well and +were gentlemanly. But 'o'er'? No. + + * * * * * + +The new book for schools: "Kaiser: De Bello Jellicoe." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WHO FORBIDS THE BANDS? + +["A band revives memories, it quickens association, it opens and unites +the hearts of men more surely than any other appeal can, and in this +respect it aids recruiting perhaps more than any other agency."--_Mr. +RUDYARD KIPLING at the Mansion House meeting promoted by the +Recruiting Bands Committee._]] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Recruit_ (_speaking of his late employer_). "AN' 'E +SAYS TO ME, 'IT WANTS A COAL-HAMMER TO KNOCK IT INTO YOUR 'EAD.'" + +_Friend._ "DID 'E SAY THAT?" + +_Recruit._ "YES, 'E DID. BUT I LET 'IM 'AVE IT BACK. I SAYS, 'IT +'UD BLOOMING WELL TAKE MORE THAN YOU TO DO IT!'"] + + * * * * * + +THE AMATEUR POLICEMAN. + + Friend Robert, if mere imitation + Expresses one's deepest regard, + How oft has such dumb adoration + Been shown on his beat by your bard; + In dress, though the semblance seems hollow, + How oft since my duties began + Have I striven, poor "special," to follow + The modes of the Man. + + I have aped till my muscles grew rigid + Your air of Olympian calm; + Have sought, when my framework was frigid, + To "stand" it _sans_ quiver or qualm; + I have also endeavoured to copy + The stealthiest thud of your boot; + And, with features as pink as a poppy, + Your solemn salute. + + In vain. Every effort is futile, + And, while I am "doing my share" + To guard (after midnight) a mute isle, + Or the bit of it close by my lair, + 'Tis perfectly plain that, although it + Is easy to offer one's aid, + The P.C., alas! like the poet, + Is born and not made. + + * * * * * + +THE UNLIKELY DUKE. + +The proposal, made the other day at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank +at Birmingham, that a dukedom should be conferred upon Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE, in recognition of his skilful handling of the financial +crisis, has aroused intense interest both in Park Lane and in the Welsh +valleys. + +Even among certain of the right honourable gentleman's colleagues in +the Cabinet the idea meets with warm approval. + +There has not yet been a meeting of Dukes to consider how to deal with +any situation that may arise; but there is little doubt that their +Graces are keeping a keen look-out, and it may be expected that when +the time comes their plans will be found to be more or less complete. + +Down in Wales there is considerable rivalry already concerning the +title the CHANCELLOR should take. A strong local committee +is being formed at Criccieth to urge the claims of that delightful +resort; but it may expect to receive strenuous opposition from the +people of Llanpwllwynbrynogrhos, who argue that, while Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE'S connection with their village may be slight, it would be +highly desirable that there should exist the obstacle of such a name +whenever the new Duke's fellow Dukes wished to refer to him. + +Since it was at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank that the idea was put +forward, we are inclined to think that whenever a title is required the +CHANCELLOR might select the "Duke of Lloyds;" and on the other +hand, of course, a bank professing such admiration for Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE could not pay a prettier compliment than by styling itself +"LLOYD GEORGE'S Bank." + +We profoundly hope that there may be no truth in the ugly rumour that +one of the CHANCELLOR'S servants, who has been in the family +for many years and imbibed its principles, has declared emphatically +that it would be against her principles to serve in a ducal household. + +Needless to say there has been a flutter among estate agents. Already +vast tracts of deer-forest in Scotland have been offered at astonishing +terms to the proposed Duke, and these not only comprise some of the +finest scenery in the British Isles, but afford opportunity for +thoroughly interesting agricultural development. + +Mr. LLOYD GEORGE'S own views on the whole subject were uttered +in Welsh, and we have no doubt our readers will quite understand that +they cannot be printed here. + + * * * * * + +Our Dumb Friends. + +The tradition of strong language established by our armies in Flanders +seems to be well kept up to-day, if we may judge by the following Army +Order issued at the Front:-- + + "Though on occasion it is necessary to tie horses to trees, this + should be avoided whenever possible, as they are sure to bark and thus + destroy the trees." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Patriotic Old Person_ (_to individual bespattered by +passing motor-bus_). "THERE, YOUNG FELLER! IT'D NEVER 'AVE BIN +NOTICED IF YOU'D BIN IN KHAKI!"] + + * * * * * + +A TERRITORIAL IN INDIA. + +III. + +My dear _Mr. Punch_,--Although, being no longer a soldier in anything +but name (and pay), I pursue in India the inglorious vocation of a +clerk, I am nevertheless still in a position to perceive the splendid +qualities of the British Officer. Always a humble admirer of his skill +and bravery in the field, I have now in addition a keen appreciation of +his imperturbable _sangfroid_ when confronted with conditions of great +difficulty in the office. + +I am working in the Banana (to circumvent the Censor I am giving it an +obviously fictitious name) Divisional Area Headquarters Staff Office, +which is situated in the town of ----. Suppose we call it Mango. There +are four brigades in the Banana Divisional Area, one of which is the +Mango Brigade. Now it so happens that the General Officer Commanding +the Banana Divisional Area is at present also the General Officer +Commanding the Mango Brigade; consequently this is the sort of thing +which is always happening. The G.O.C. of the Mango Brigade writes to +himself as G.O.C. of the Banana Divisional Area: "May I request the +favour of a reply to my Memorandum No. 25731/24/Mobn., dated the 3rd +January, 1915, relating to paragraph 5 of Army Department letter No. +S.M.--43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, which amplifies +the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. XXIII.?" +Next morning he goes into the Divisional Office and finds himself +confronted by this letter. A mere civilian might be tempted to take a +mean advantage of his unusual situation. Not so the British Officer. +The dignified traditions of the Indian Army must not lightly be set +aside. The G.O.C. of the Brigade and the G.O.C. of the Divisional Area +must be as strangers for the purposes of official correspondence. + +So he writes back to himself:--"Your reference to Army Department +letter No. S.M.--43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, +is not understood. May I presume that you allude to Army Department +letter No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914, which +deals with the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. +XXIII.?" + +Later on he goes to the Brigade Office and writes--"... I would +respectfully point out that Army Department letter No. S.M.--43822/19 +(A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, cancels Army Department letter +No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914." + +At his next visit to the Divisional Office he writes back again:--"... +Army Department letter No. S.M.--43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th +December, 1914, does not appear to have been received in this office. +Will you be so good as to favour me with a copy?" + +So it goes on, and our dual G.O.C., like the gallant soldier he is, +never flinches from his duty, never swerves by a hair's-breadth from +his difficult course. This surely is the spirit which has made the +Empire. + +But I expect you are weary of this subject. Still, you must please not +forget that we are officially on active service, and active service +means perhaps more than you people at home imagine. Last Sunday, after +tiffin, I came upon one of my colleagues lounging in an easy-chair, one +of those with practical extensions upon which you can stretch your legs +luxuriously. With a cigarette between his lips and an iced drink beside +him, he sat reading a magazine--a striking illustration of the fine +resourcefulness of the Territorials in adapting themselves to novel +conditions. + +"What I object to about active service," he said, as I came up, "is the +awful hardship we have to put up with. When we were mobilised I didn't +anticipate that our path would be exactly strewn with roses, but I +confess I never expected this. I shall write to _The Times_. The public +ought to know about it;" and he settled himself more deeply into his +chair, blew out a cloud of smoke, and with a resolute expression sipped +his iced lemonade. + +_Mr. Punch_, you will be pained to hear that I have lost my hard-earned +reputation for sobriety through no fault of my own. A few days ago I +went up to the barracks to draw my regimental pay, and found that a +number of articles of clothing, issued by the Army authorities, had +accumulated for me during my absence--a pair of khaki shorts, a grey +flannel shirt with steel buttons the size of sixpences, a pair of +worsted socks and three sheets (yes, sheets for the bed; so luxuriously +do we fare in India). Perhaps you can guess what happened. + +"Oh, by the way, have you drawn your clothing?" asked the Lieutenant, +when he had paid me. + +"Yes, Sir," I replied. + +"What have you got?" + +"Sheets, shirt, shorts and shocks--shots, sheeks and shirks----" + +"That will do," he interrupted sternly. "You had better come to me +again when you are in a condition to express yourself clearly." + +Thus easily is a reputation acquired by years of self-control destroyed +by the pitfalls of our native tongue. + +On the other hand, some people have enviable reputations thrust upon +them. This is the case with my friend, Private Walls. The other night, +half of what remains of the Battalion were called out to repel an +expected attack on the barracks by the other half. Walls chanced to be +placed in a rather isolated position, and, armed with six rounds of +blank, he took cover behind a large boulder, after receiving whispered +orders from his officer not to fire if he suspected the approach of the +enemy, but to low like an ox, when assistance would immediately be sent +to him. + +Though a little diffident of his powers of lowing, Walls determined to +do his best, and fell sound asleep. + +Now, if you or I had been in his position, an officer would certainly +have discovered us in no time, and dire punishment would have +followed. But Walls slumbered on undisturbed, until a terrific roar in +his ear caused him to wake with a start. What had happened? He seized +his rifle and peered into the darkness. Then, to his amazement, he saw +the boulder before him rise to its feet and shamble off into the night. +It was an ox, and it had lowed! + +You might think his luck finished there. But no. The officer and his +men came stealthily up, and Walls unblushingly declared that he had +heard the foe approaching. It may sound incredible, but it is a fact +that a few minutes later the enemy did actually appear, and were, of +course, driven back after the customary decimation. + +And Walls unhesitatingly accepted the congratulations of his superior +on his vigilance, and did not even blench when assured that his was the +finest imitation ever heard of the lowing of an ox. + + Yours ever, + ONE OF THE _PUNCH_ BRIGADE. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Officer._ "DIDN'T I TELL YER 'E WAS NO GOOD? LOOK +AT 'IM--PLAYIN' FOOTBALL WHEN US FELLERS IS DRILLIN'!"] + + * * * * * + + "The German resistance is formidable but the allies' artillery has + forced the enemy to retire from some trenches abandinging prisoners, + dead, and wounded."--_Buenos Aires Standard._ + +This gives the lie to the many stories of German callousness that we +hear. + + * * * * * + +TURNS OF THE DAY. + + [_A fifteen-minutes' speech on affairs by a public man has been added + to the programme of the Empire music-hall._] + +There is no truth that the late Viceroy of IRELAND is to +appear at the Alhambra in a brief address, explaining why he chose the +title of "Tara." + +All efforts to induce Mr. MASTERMAN to appear at the Holborn +Empire next week in a burlesque of _The Seats of the Mighty_ have +failed. + +Great pressure is being brought to bear upon Mr. BERNARD SHAW +to induce him to add gaiety to the Palladium programme next week by a +twenty-minutes' exposure of England's folly, hypocrisy, fatuity and +crime, a subject on which he knows even more than is to be known. + +Up to the present moment Mr. H. G. WELLS has refused all +offers to appear at the Palace in the song from _Patience_, "When I +first put this uniform on." + +Any statement that Mr. EDMUND GOSSE is to appear at the +Coliseum at every performance next week, in a little sketch entitled +_Swinging the Censor_, is to be taken with salt. + +A similar incredulity should probably be adopted in regard to the +alluring rumour that Mr. COMPTON MACKENZIE will also contribute at +the same house a nightly telephonic sketch from Capri, "_What Tiberius +thinks of 'Sinister Street.'_" + +Negotiations are still pending, though with little chance of success, +between the management of the Hippodrome and Canon RAWNSLEY, +with a view to his giving a brief address nightly on the subject "How +to write a War sonnet in ten minutes." + +We have good reason to fear that, in spite of reiterated announcements +of their engagement, Mr. MAX PEMBERTON and Mr. MAX BEERBOHM will not +appear on Valentine's Day, and subsequently, at the Chiswick Empire +in a topical War duologue as "The Two Max." + + * * * * * + +Omar Khayyam on the North Sea battle. + + They say the _Lion_ and the _Tiger_ sweep + Where once the Huns shelled babies from the deep, + And _Blücher_, that great cruiser--12-inch guns + Roar o'er his head but cannot break his sleep. + + * * * * * + +YUSSUF. + +"Look here," exclaimed the latest subaltern, hurling himself at the +remains of the breakfast, "those rotters have sent me a putrid sword!" + +"A putrid sword, dear?" his mother repeated. + +"Yes, confound them!" + +"I don't see why you want a sword at all," Dolly chipped in. "Captain +Jones says the big guns are the only weapons that count." + +"And how will Archie toast his crumpets?" retorted Henry. + +"Oh, shut up, you kids! I say, do you mind having a look at it?" The +latest subaltern was actually appealing to me. I stifled a blush, and +thought I should like to, very much. + +After breakfast Archibald and myself retired to the armoury. + +"There!" he exclaimed indignantly. "What do you think of that?" It was +lying on the bed with a black-and-gold hilt and a wonderful nickel +scabbard with gilt blobs at the top. I looked at it. + +"Well," I ventured, "it's a sword." + +Archibald sniffed. + +"And," I continued hastily, "it's very nice. Perhaps they've run out of +the ordinary ones. Does it cut?" + +He drew it, and I, assuming the air of a barber's assistant, felt its +edge. + +"Of course," I remarked, "I don't know much about it, but if there _is_ +anything left to cut when you go out I think it should be stropped a +bit first." + +"Well," said the proud owner, "I ordered it at Slashers', and they +ought to know. Suppose we rub it up on young Henry's emery wheel?" + +"Wait a minute," I cried; "I should like to see it on." + +Archibald buckled on the scabbard and I slapped the trusty blade home. + +It certainly looked a bit odd. I surveyed it in profile. + +"No!" I exclaimed, "there is something about it ... a Yussuf air ... +that little bend at the tip is reminiscent of Turkestan." + +We found Henry in the workshop. + +"My fairy godmother," he shouted, "did you pinch it from the pantomime?" + +We did not deign to reply. Gingerly, very gingerly, we applied Yussuf +to the emery wheel.... Little flakes came off him--just little flakes. + +It was very distressing. + +The gardener joined us and advised some oil; then the coachman brought +us some polishing sand; bath-brick and whitening we got from the cook. + +It was no good. Nothing could restore those little flakes. So we went +indoors to have a look at the Encyclopædia. But there was nothing there +to help us. Yussuf was suffering from an absolutely unknown disease. + +We put him to bed again. + + * * * * * + +After lunch Archibald received the following letter:-- + +"DEAR SIR,--We learn with regret that, by an inadvertence, +the wrong sword has been despatched to you. We now hasten to forward +yours, trusting that the delay has not inconvenienced you. At the same +time our representative will, with your permission, collect the sword +now in your possession as it is of exceptional value, and also has to +be inscribed immediately for presentation. + + Your obedient Servants, + SLASHER AND CO." + +"For presentation," I repeated; "then it's not meant to cut with, and +those blobs really are gold." I touched one respectfully. + +The latest subaltern pulled himself together and rang the bell. +"When a man calls here for a sword," he told the servant, "give him +this"--pointing dramatically at Yussuf. "And Jenkins!" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"Tell him that I have just sailed for ... er--for the Front." + + * * * * * + +LE DERNIER CRI. + +BEING THE SOLILOQUY OF THE OLDEST PARROT. + +_Hallo! Hallo! Hallo! Polly-olly-wolly! Scratch a poll!_ It isn't that +I shout the loudest, though I fancy I _could_ keep my end up in the +monkey-house if it came to that. Many a parrot wastes all his energy +in wind. It's brains, not lungs, that make a full crop. Extend your +vocabulary. Another thing--don't make yourself too cheap. The parrot +that always gives his show free lives the whole of his life on official +rations--and nothing else. _Half-a-pint o' mild-an'-bitter! Pom! Pom!_ + +I'm the oldest inhabitant, and I've the biggest waist measurement for +my height in Regent's Park. That's my reward. I'll admit I've a bad +memory; most parrots have, except the one that used to sing "Rule +Britannia" and knew the name of every keeper in the Zoo--and _he_ went +into hospital with something-on-the-brain. But _I_'ve moved with the +times. There aren't many catch-phrases I haven't caught. "Walker," +"Who's Griffiths?" and drawing corks in the old "Champagne Charlie" +days; and "You're another," "Get your hair cut," "Does your mother know +you're out?" "My word, if I catch you bending!" "After you with the +cruet." But I've a bad memory. _Have a banana? I don't think!..._ + +I'm never quite sure of myself, and so just have to say what comes +uppermost. _Shun! Stanterteeze! Form-forz, you two! Half-a-pint o'...._ + +I've found it doesn't do to repeat _everything_ the sergeant says. +We had a Naval parrot once.... Why, take for instance that young man +with his greasy feathers brushed back like a parrakeet's. He looked +good for a few grapes any day, but when, just to encourage him, I +chortled, "KITCHENER wants yer!" he frowned and walked away. I +did good business later, though. Pulled up a bunch of Khaki people by +just shouting "'Alt!" I admired their taste in oranges. _Down with the +KAISER!_ By the way, I've shouted "Down with" almost everybody +in my time. _Johnny, get your gun; Goobye, Tipperlairlee._ + +But the best is "_Veeve la Fronce_." Last week one of those foreign +officers heard me "veeving" softly to myself. In half a minute he'd +collected a dozen of his friends and relatives, and I could see more +coming in the distance. The excitement! My tail! "Marie! Alphonse!" he +shouted. "_Regarday dong ce brave wozzo!_" They gave me butterscotch; +they gave me muscatels; they gave me a meringue, and lots of little +sweet biscuits (I don't take monkey-nuts these days, thank you!) and +they all talked at once. Then a lovely creature with a cockatoo's crest +on her head bent forward and coaxed me in a voice like ripe bananas. +And there was I sitting like a fool, my mouth crammed and my mind a +blank! The crowd was growing every minute. The cockatoo girl ran to the +kiosk and bought me French nougat; I ate it. Then I made a desperate +effort--"Has anybody here seen Kelly?" + +Bless the camel-keeper! At that very moment I heard him ringing the +"all-out" bell. + + * * * * * + +_The Times_ says that the _Blücher_ was the reply of the German +Admiralty to the first British _Dreadnought_. + +Admiral Sir DAVID BEATTY begs to state that he has forwarded +this reply to the proper quarter. + + * * * * * + +We have pleasure in culling the following extract from the account of a +wedding, as set forth in _The Silver Leaf_ (published at Somerset West, +Cape Province):-- + + "Whilst the register was being signed, Mme. Wortley, of Cape Town, + sang 'Entreat me not to leave thee' with great feeling." + +It seems perhaps a little early to discuss the question of marital +separation. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: HOW TO KEEP FIT. FOR REALLY BUSY MEN. + +1. ON THE WAY TO THE STATION. + +2. WAITING FOR THE TRAIN. + +3. ON THE 'BUS--"WITH DEEP BREATHING--NECK WRISTS." + +4. AT THE OFFICE--THE CORRESPONDENCE. + +5. WEIGHING BUSINESS PROPOSITIONS. + +6. WAITING AT THE TELEPHONE.] + + * * * * * + +THE VOLUNTEERS. + + _Time_: 7.30 P.M. _Scene: A large disused barn, where forty + members of the local Volunteer Training Corps are assembled for + drill. They are mostly men well over thirty-eight years of age, but + there is a sprinkling of lads of under nineteen, while a few are men + of "military age" who for some good and sufficient reason have been + unable to join the army. They are all full of enthusiasm, but at + present they possess neither uniform nor arms. Please note that in the + following dialogue the Sergeant alone speaks aloud; the other person_ + thinks, _but gives no utterance to his words_. + + _The Sergeant._ Fall in! Fall in! Come smartly there, fall in + And recollect that when you've fallen in + You stand at ease, a ten-inch space between + Your feet--like this; your hands behind your back-- + Like this; your head and body both erect; + Your weight well poised on both feet, not on one. + Dress by the right, and let each rear rank man + Quick cover off his special front rank man. + That's it; that's good. Now when I say, "Squad, 'shun," + Let every left heel swiftly join the right + Without a shuffling or a scraping sound + And let the angle of your two feet be + Just forty-five, the while you smartly drop + Hands to your sides, the fingers lightly bent, + Thumbs to the front, but every careful thumb + Kept well behind your trouser-seams. Squad, 'shun! + + _The Volunteer._ Ha! Though I cannot find my trouser-seams, + I rather think I did that pretty well. + Thomas, my footman, who is on my left, + And Batts, the draper, drilling on my right, + And e'en the very Sergeant must have seen + The lithe precision of my rapid spring. + + _The Sergeant._ When next I call you to attention, note + You need not slap your hands against your thighs. + It is not right to slap your thighs at all. + + _The Volunteer._ He's looking at me; I am half afraid + I used unnecessary violence + And slapped my thighs unduly. It is bad + That Thomas should have cause to grin at me + And lose his proper feeling of respect, + Being a flighty fellow at the best; + And Batts the draper must not---- + + _The Sergeant._ Stand at ease! + + _The Volunteer._ Aha! He wants to catch me, but he---- + + _The Sergeant._ 'Shun! + + _The Volunteer._ Bravo, myself! I did not slap them then. + I am indubitably getting on. + I wonder if the Germans do these things, + And what they sound like in the German tongue. + The Germans are a---- + + _The Sergeant._ Sharply number off + From right to left, and do not jerk your heads. + + [_They number off._ + + _The Volunteer._ I'm six, an even number, and must do + The lion's share in forming fours. What luck + For Batts, who's five, and Thomas, who is seven. + They also serve, but only stand and wait, + While I behind the portly form of Batts + Insert myself and then slip out again + Clear to the front, observing at the word + The ordered sequence of my moving feet. + Come let me brace myself and dare---- + + _The Sergeant._ Form fours! + + _The Volunteer._ I cannot see the Sergeant; I'm obscured + Behind the acreage of Batts's back. + Indeed it is a very noble back + And would protect me if we charged in fours + Against the Germans, but I rather think + We charge two deep, and therefore---- + + _The Sergeant._ Form two deep! + + _The Volunteer._ Thank Heaven I'm there, although I mixed my feet! + I am oblivious of the little things + That mark the due observance of a drill; + And Thomas sees my faults and grins again. + Let him grin on; my time will come once more + At dinner, when he hands the Brussels sprouts. + + [_The drill proceeds._ + + Now we're in fours and marching like the wind. + This is more like it; this is what we need + To make us quit ourselves like regulars. + Left, right, left, right! The Sergeant gives it out + As if he meant it. Stepping out like this + We should breed terror in the German hordes + And drive them off. The Sergeant has a gleam + In either eye; I think he's proud of us. + Or does he meditate some stratagem + To spoil our marching? + + _The Sergeant._ On the left form squad! + + _The Volunteer._ There! He has done it! He has ruined us! + I'm lost past hope, and Thomas, too, is lost; + And in a press of lost and tangled men + The great broad back of Batts heaves miles away. + + [_The Sergeant explains and the drill proceeds._ + + _The Volunteer._ No matter; we shall some day learn it all, + The standing difference 'twixt our left and right, + The bayonet exercise, the musketry, + And all the things a soldier does with ease. + I must remember it's a long, long way + To Tipperary, but my heart's---- + + _The Sergeant._ Dismiss! + + R. C. L. + + * * * * * + +MARCH AIRS. + +AT long last the War Office is waking up to the value of bands for +military purposes, and a good deal of interest will be aroused by the +discussion now proceeding as to the best airs for use on the march. + +The following suggestions have been hastily collected by wireless and +other means:-- + +From the Trenches: "Why not try 'Come into the garden mud'?" + +From a very new Subaltern: "I had thought of 'John Brown's Body,' but +personally I am more concerned just now with Sam Browne's Belt." + +From a Zeppelin-driver: "There's an old Scotch song that I have tried +successfully on one of our naval lieutenants. It runs like this:-- + + O, I'll tak the high road and you'll tak' the low road, + An' I'll be in Yarmouth afore ye." + +From the Captain of the _Sydney_: "What's the matter with 'The Jolly +Müller'?" + +From President WILSON: "Have you thought of 'The little rift +within the lute,' as played by our Contra-band?" + +From Admiral VON TIRPITZ: "A familiar air with me is 'Crocked +in the cradle of the deep.'" + +From Sir EDWARD GREY: "If it could be done diplomatically, I +should like to see recommended, 'Dacia, Dacia, give me your answer, +do.'" + +From the Crew of the _Lion_: "For England, Home, and Beatty." + +From an East Coast Mayor: "Begone, dull scare!" + +From the King of RUMANIA: "Now we shan't be long." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Old Farmer_ (_to village Military Critic_). +"STRATEEGY? DOD, MAN, YE HAVENA AS MUCKLE STRATEEGY AS WAD TAK' YE +ACROSS ARGYLE STREET UNLESS A POLISMAN HELPIT YE."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +_The German War Book_ (MURRAY) is a work in whose authenticity +many of us would have refused to believe this time last year. It is a +pity indeed that it was not then in the hands of all those who still +clung to the theory that the Prussian was a civilised and humane being. +However, now that everyone can read it, translated and with a wholly +admirable preface by Professor J. H. MORGAN, it is to be hoped +that the detestable little volume will have a wide publicity. True, it +can add little to our recent knowledge of the enemy of mankind; but it +is something to have his guiding principles set down upon the authority +of his own hand. Cynical is hardly an adequate epithet for them; +indeed I do not know that the word exists that could do full justice +to the compound of hypocrisy and calculated brutishness that makes up +this manual. It may at first strike the reader as surprising to find +himself confronted by sentiments almost, one might say, of moderation +and benevolence. He will ask with astonishment if the writer has not, +after all, been maligned. Before long, however, he will discover that +all this morality is very carefully made conditional, and that the +conditions are wide. In short, as the Preface puts it, the peculiar +logic of the book consists in "ostentatiously laying down unimpeachable +rules, and then quietly destroying them by debilitating exceptions." +For example, on the question of exposing the inhabitants of occupied +territory to the fire of their own troops--the now notorious Prussian +method of "women and children first"--the _War Book_, while admitting +pious distaste for such practice, blandly argues that its "main +justification" lies in its success. Thus, with sobs and tears, like +the walrus, the Great General Staff enumerates its suggested list of +serviceable infamies. At the day of reckoning what a witness will this +little book be! Out of their own mouths they stand here condemned +through all the ages. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. HUMPHRY WARD, chief of novelists-with-a-purpose, +vehemently eschews the detachment of the Art-for-Art's-Saker, while +a long and honourable practice has enabled her to make her stories +bear the burden of her theses much more comfortably than would seem +theoretically possible. _Delia Blanchflower_ (WARD, LOCK) +is a suffrage novel, dedicated with wholesome intent to the younger +generation, and if one compares the talented author's previous +record of uncompromising, and indeed rather truculent, anti-suffrage +utterances one may note (with approval or dismay) a considerable +broadening of view on the vexed question. For her attack here is +delivered exclusively on the militant position. Quite a number of +decent folk in her pages are suffragistically inclined, and there is +a general admission that the eager feet that throng the hill of the +Vote are not by any means uniformly shod in elastic-sided boots, if +one may speak a parable. It is a very notable admission and does the +writer honour; for such revisions are rare with veteran and committed +campaigners. The story is laid in the far-away era of the burnings of +cricket pavilions and the lesser country houses. _Delia_ is a beautiful +goddess-heiress of twenty-two, with eyes of flame and a will of steel, +a very agreeable and winning heroine. Her tutor, _Gertrude Marvell_, +the desperate villain of the piece, a brilliant fanatic (crossed in +love in early youth), wins the younger girl's affections and inspires +and accepts her dedication of self and fortune to the grim purposes of +the "Daughters of Revolt." _Mark Winnington_, her guardian, appointed +by her father to counteract the tutor's baleful influence, finds both +women a tough proposition. For _Gertrude_ has brains to back her +fanaticism, and _Delia_ is a spirited handful of a ward. Loyalty to her +consecration and to her friend outlast her belief in the methods of the +revolting ones. Her defences are finally ruined by Cupid, for _Mark_ is +a handsome athletic man of forty or so, a paragon of knightly courtesy +and persuasive speech and silences, and compares very favourably with +the policemen in Parliament Square. Poor _Gertrude_ makes a tragic +end in a fire of her own kindling, so that the moral for the younger +generation cannot be said to be set forth in ambiguous terms. + + * * * * * + +_Arundel_ (FISHER UNWIN) is one of those stories that begins +with a Prologue; and as this was only mildly interesting I began to +wonder whether I was going to be as richly entertained as one has by +now a right to expect from Mr. E. F. BENSON. But it appeared +that, like a cunning dramatist, he was only waiting till the audience +had settled into their seats; when this was done, up went the curtain +upon the play proper, and we were introduced to Arundel itself, an +abode of such unmixed and giddy joy that I have been chortling over the +memory of it ever since. Arundel was the house at Heathmoor where lived +_Mrs. Hancock_ and her daughter _Edith_; and _Mrs. Hancock_ herself, +and her house and her neighbourhood and her car and her servants and +her friends--all, in fact, that is hers, epitomize the Higher Suburbia +with a delicate and merciless satire that is beyond praise. I shall +hurry over the actual story, because that, though well and absorbingly +told, is of less value than the setting. Next door to the _Hancocks_ +lived a blameless young man called _Edward_, whom for many reasons, +not least because their croquet-lawns, so to speak, "marched," _Mrs. +Hancock_ had chosen as her daughter's husband. So blamelessly, almost +without emotion, these were betrothed, walking among the asparagus beds +on a suitable May afternoon "ventilated by a breath of south-west wind +and warmed by a summer sun," and the course of their placid affection +would have run smooth enough but for the sudden arrival, out of the +Prologue, of _Elizabeth_, fiercely alive and compelling, the ideal +of poor _Edward's_ dreams. Naturally, therefore, there is the devil +to pay. But, good as all this is, it is _Mrs. Hancock_ who makes the +book, first, last and all the time. She is a gem of purest ray serene, +and my words that would praise her are impotent things. Only unlimited +quotation could do justice to her sleek self-deception and little +comfortable meannesses. In short, as a contemporary portrait, the +mistress of Arundel seems to be the best thing that Mr. BENSON +has yet given us; worth--if he will allow me to say so--a whole +race of _Dodos_. For comparison one turns instinctively to JANE +AUSTEN; and I can sound no higher praise. + +Love never seems to run a smooth course for girls of the name of +_Joan_; their affairs of heart, whatever the final issue may be, have +complex beginnings and make difficult, at times dismal, progress. I +attribute the rejection of the great novel of my youth to the fact +that the heroine, a rosy-cheeked girl with no more serious problems in +life than the organisation of mixed hockey matches, was ineptly given +that unhappy name. Miss MARY AGNES HAMILTON'S _Joan Traquair_ +is true to the type. From the start she is handicapped by a bullying +father, an invalid sister, a lack of means and an excess of artistic +temperament, the last of these being not just a casual tendency to +picture galleries and the opera, but the kind of restless passion +which causes people to prefer sunsets to meals and to neglect their +dress. In due course she falls in love with a man called _Sebastian_, +another name which, if less familiar, is yet a sufficient warning to +the world that its owner is bound to be a nuisance on the hearth. This +_Sebastian_ was an artist, ambitious and of course poor; worse, he had +a touch of genius and--worst of all--he knew it. Nevertheless _Joan_ +became his wife, supposing that this was just the sort of man to make +her happy. Instead, he made her thoroughly miserable, at any rate for +a good long time; but I doubt if any reader, even with all the facts +before him, will anticipate exactly how he did it. I certainly didn't +myself, although I feel now that I ought to have done. The point of +_Yes_ (HEINEMANN) is both new and true; I recommend the book +with confidence to all interested in the Joans and Sebastians of this +world. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "NOT THOUGH THE SOLDIER KNEW SOMEONE HAD +BLUNDERED."] + + * * * * * + +Our Cheery Allies. + +A letter from a Japanese firm:-- + + "DEAR SIRS,--Since writing you last we have no favours to + acknowledge, however, we are pleased to enter into business relation + with your respectable firm. We were delighted that the Allies + always behaved bravely in the recent battle and now are in the very + favourable condition. Our army took the possetion of Tsingtau and our + only hope remaindered is to hear the annihiration of the enemy force. + We trust the Allies will beat the Enemy in near future though we + cannot assert the time. If there are any samples of Japanese goods as + substitute of German's, kindly let us know, and we shall send the same + as soon as possible." + + * * * * * + +ENCYCLOPÆDIA GERMANICA. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins from dark aerial heights + Pick out the peaceful places while people sleep o' nights. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins steer clear of fort and gun; + Such things of dreadful menace repel the flying Hun. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins show Science at the call + Of all the savage instincts that hold them tight in thrall. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins--_our_ women lying dead-- + The whole of German "Kultur" is there from A to Z. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. +148, FEBRUARY 3, 1915*** + + +******* This file should be named 44654-8.txt or 44654-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/4/6/5/44654 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a +href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></p> +<p>Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 148, February 3, 1915</p> +<p>Author: Various</p> +<p>Editor: Sir Owen Seaman</p> +<p>Release Date: January 13, 2014 [eBook #44654]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 148, FEBRUARY 3, 1915***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Malcolm Farmer<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <p class="ph2">Vol. 148.</p> + <hr class="full" /> + + <p class="ph2">February 3, 1915.</p> + <hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class="charivaria"> +<p class="ph2"><a name="CHARIVARIA" id="CHARIVARIA">CHARIVARIA.</a></p> + + +<p>"Celerity," said the German <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> to our representative +at Berlin on the eve of the War, "is essential lo us." It has, however, +taken him over five months to discover what he meant by his "scrap of +paper" speech.</p> + +<p class="center">* * *</p> + +<p>As a substitute for the International Railway Time Table Conference, +Germany has invited Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Austria, Switzerland and +Italy to a joint conference to be held on February 3rd. Certainly +something will have to be done for the <span class="sc">Kaiser's</span> Time Tables. +They have been most unsatisfactory ever since the outbreak of the War.</p> + +<p class="center">* * *</p> + +<p>A German paper reports that the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> is in excellent health +now, and that his girth has distinctly increased during the War. His +patriotic countrymen must be delighted at this fresh extension of +Kaiser-tum.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>The omission of the <span class="sc">German Emperor</span> to send a telegram +of condolence to <span class="sc">King Victor Emmanuel</span> on the occasion +of the earthquake has called forth severe comments in Italy. The +<span class="sc">Kaiser</span> is said to have been anxious to create the impression +that he sent the earthquake himself as a caution.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p><span class="sc">Enver Pasha</span> is said to have now returned to Constantinople. +His place in the Egyptian Expeditionary Force will, it is thought, be +taken by <span class="sc">Revers Pasha</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>The <span class="sc">ex-Khedive's</span> war-cry: "Geneva for the Egyptians!"</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>"The <span class="sc">German Emperor</span>," said General <span class="sc">von Kressenstein</span>, +the other day, in a speech to Turkish officers and men, "is a sincere +father to Islam." This statement was very necessary as many Turkish +soldiers, judging by their experience of German officers, had imagined +that the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span> was Islam's stepfather.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>Articles entitled "<i>Unser Hass gegen England</i>," Mr. <span class="sc">Valentine +Williams</span> tells us, continue to appear in the German Press, and a +dear old lady writes to say that she presumes the Hass in question is +the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>We are sorry to hear that a Scotch prisoner in Germany got into serious +trouble for referring in a letter to the fact that he was a member of +the Burns Society. The authorities imagined this to be an incendiary +association.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>Those wideawake Germans have discovered further evidence of a shortage +of arms in our country. Attention is being drawn in Berlin to the fact +that the London County Council has decided to defer the proposal to +have a coat-of-arms until the conclusion of the War.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>We hear that Mr. <span class="sc">Winston Churchill</span> is delighted at the +success of his expression, "the baby-killers," which has taken on +so wonderfully and promises to have a greater run even than Mr. +<span class="sc">Asquith's</span> "Wait and see." Fortunately in these times there is +no jealousy between politicians.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p><i>The Observer</i> is wondering whether, in view of the threat of Zeppelin +raids, we are taking sufficient precautions in regard to our national +treasures. It may relieve our contemporary to know that at least one +post-impressionist has removed all his works to a secret destination in +the country.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>During a recent aerial attack on Dunkirk some bombs, we are told, set +fire to a woollen warehouse. This just shows the danger of constructing +a warehouse of such inflammable material.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>The War Office, <i>The Express</i> tells us, recently requested the borough +of Sunderland to raise a brigade of field artillery. The Mayor, +however, is reported to be a Quaker and opposed to War on principle, +and it is stated that the local recruiting committee has decided to +respect the Mayor's conscientious scruples. Suggested motto for the +town, "Let Sunderland Quake."</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>Speaking of the new Lord of Appeal, a contemporary says, "Mr. Justice +Bankes is noted for his pleasant appearance, and for the fact that he +has never been known to raise his voice." He does not, in fact, belong +to the firm of Bankes and Brays.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>As a result of the War there is a famine in glass, and prices are +up nearly 100 per cent. Here surely is a Heaven-sent chance for the +Crystal Palace to turn itself into a financial success.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * </p> + +<p>The strike of Billingsgate fish porters was, we hear, settled in the +nick of time. The men were just beginning to brush up their language.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>The Chicago Tribune</i> as quoted in <i>The Sunday Times</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"'C'est incredible!' remarked the thorough Parisian."</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Pas demi," we retort in our best London accent.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"The Secretary of the Admiralty makes the following announcement:—</p> + +<p>Goods for his Majesty's ships which have hitherto been sent by mail, +addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dingwall,' should in future be +addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dngwall.'"</p> + +<p> +<i>Scarborough Daily Post.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>We obey reluctantly.</p> +</blockquote> + + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<a href="images/081full.jpg"> +<img src="images/081.jpg" width="500" height="352" alt="HOCH AYE" /> +</a> +<div class="caption">HOCH AYE! + +<p><span class="sc">Scene</span>: <i>A lonely part of the Scottish Coast.</i></p> + +<p><i>German Spy</i> (<i>who has been signalling and suddenly notices that he is +being watched</i>). "<span class="sc">Nein! Nein! Never shall you land on my beloved +Shcotchland!</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph3">A THOUSAND STRONG.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">A thousand strong,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">With laugh and song,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To charge the guns or line a trench,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">We marched away</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">One August day,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And fought beside the gallant French.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">A thousand strong,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">But not for long;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Some lie entombed in Belgian clay;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Some torn by shell</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Lie, where they fell,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beneath the turf of La Bassée.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">But yet at night,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">When to the fight</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Eager from camp and trench we throng,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Our comrades dead</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">March at our head,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And still we charge, a thousand strong!</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph3">MOSES II.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>To the New Lord of Islam.</i>)</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He led the Chosen People forth;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Over the Red Sea tramped their legions;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They wandered East, they wandered North</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Through very vague and tedious regions,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ploughing a lot of desolating sand</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Before they struck the Promised Land.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And you, who play so many parts,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And figure in such fancy poses,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now, poring over Syrian charts,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dressed for the character of <span class="sc">Moses</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In spirit lead your Turks, a happy band,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bound for another Promised Land.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Promises you have made before;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And doubtless your adopted Bosches</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Deemed the Canal would lend its floor</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To pass them through without goloshes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As though it were a segment of the dry</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Peninsula of Sinaï.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And when they feared to lose their way</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You answered them with ready wit: "Oh!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You'll have a pillar of cloud by day,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And through the night a fiery ditto,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But never said that these would be supplied</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By airmen on the other side."</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor did you mention how the sun</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Promotes a thirst in desert places,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor how their route was like to run</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A little short of green oases,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Because the wells that glad the wanderer's sight</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have been removed by dynamite.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor did you let the Faithful guess</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That, on the Pentateuch's own showing,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Israel found the wilderness</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Took forty years of steady going;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And after two-score summers, one would think,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Even a camel wants a drink.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And you yourself, if still alive</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And not transferred (we'll say?) to heaven,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Would by the date when they arrive</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Have touched the age of 97,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And scarcely be in quite the best condition</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To share their labour's full fruition.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come down, O fool, from Pisgah's heights,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where, stung by Furies misbegotten,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You counterfeit Mosaic flights,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Aching for Egypt's corn and cotton;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Think how it makes the local fellah smile</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To hear your <i>Watch upon the Nile!</i></span><br /> + +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">O. S.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">The Scramble.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"Near Bir Muhadata a British hydroplane dropped a bob on a Turkish +column, inflicting loss."—<i>Manchester Guardian.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>In the mad rush made by the always unpaid Turkish troops to secure this +godsend, there were many casualties.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">The Journalistic Touch.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"This was on the morning of January 2, and Grall had had no food and +only a little water since the morning of December 31 <i>of the previous +year</i>.—Reuter."—<i>Daily Chronicle.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>The italics represent our own endeavour to assist the picture.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph2">GERMANY'S WAR STRENGTH.</p> + +<p>Dear <i>Mr. Punch</i>,—I cannot for the life of me understand why your +contemporaries should be in such difficulties over the above question +or how it is that they arrive at such diverse estimates. The elements +of the problem are perfectly straightforward. I worked it out on the +back of my ticket in the Tube last night, and as there can be no doubt +whatever about my conclusions I think they ought to be published.</p> + +<p>The present population of Germany for popular purposes (as they always +say) is 70,000,000. All the evidence goes to show that the war is still +popular in Germany, or parts of it, so we may accept that figure. Very +well. Of these, 33,000,000 are males. It seems a good many, but we +shall soon begin to whittle it down. By examining the figures of the +different "age groups" we find that fully five million of these are +under the age of seven and as quite a number are over sixty and others +are incapacitated—we have no space to enter into all these complicated +calculations here—we shall not be far wrong if we deduct at the outset +about 21,175,000 under these heads. This leaves us in round figures +twelve million.</p> + +<p>We now come to the question of losses up to date; and here we must +proceed with caution, for it is above all important to be on the safe +side. The present German losses are computed by the best authorities +at about two million, from all causes, up to 3 <span class="sc">P.M.</span> on the +13th ult. From this we must deduct, however, all those who, after being +wounded, have returned to the firing-line—say, half a million. Also +all those who, having been wounded a second time, have returned to the +front,—say, three hundred thousand. Also all those who have been three +times wounded and have still gone back to fight—say, fifty thousand.</p> + +<p>Then again we must remember those who have been invalided home and +recovered, and those who have been missing and are found again. And +there are the men who have been erroneously reported as prisoners, +owing to the Germans' incorrigible habit of exaggerating the number of +their own troops who have fallen into the enemy's hands.</p> + +<p>After all these deductions we may safely put the revised German losses +at 750,000. This should be taken off the twelve million eligible; but +it would, I think, be wise (in order to keep always on the safe side) +to add it on. This gives us 12,750,000. Very well.</p> + +<p>But the industries of the country must be carried on. There are the +railways, agriculture, mining. Let us say five million for these. There +are those great industries without which a nation cannot wage war; +for instance, the makers of Iron Crosses (100,000), the custodians of +ships retained in harbour (50,000), the printers of picture-postcards +(50,000), the writers of Hate-hymns, besides sundry makers of armaments +and things.</p> + +<p>Counting all those in and keeping on the safe side and dealing only +with round figures for popular purposes we may conclude that anything +from one to nine million must be deducted from our last figure to +arrive at a final estimate.</p> + +<p>To sum up, Germany's war strength cannot be more than three million or +less than eleven. This gives us a clear idea of what we have to face.</p> + +<p>I enclose my card in case you should think me an amateur, and have the +honour to remain,</p> + +<p class="center"> +Yours faithfully,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="sc">Statistician</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p><i>Men we do not introduce to the Duke of <span class="sc">Westminster</span></i> I.—The +German Minister of Finance: Dr. <span class="sc">Helfferich</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 644px;"> + +<a href="images/083full.jpg"> +<img src="images/083.jpg" width="644" height="800" alt="THE RETURN OF THE RAIDER" /> +</a> +<p class="center">THE RETURN OF THE RAIDER.</p> +<p><span class="sc">Kaiser.</span> "WELL, I <i>AM</i> SURPRISED!"</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Tirpitz.</span> "SO WERE WE."</p></div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 426px;"> +<a href="images/085.jpg"> +<img src="images/085tb.jpg" width="426" height="600" alt="Yes, Sir, these Zeppelin raids" /> +</a> +<div class="caption">"<span class="sc">Yes, Sir, these Zeppelin raids—words can't +describe 'em. They're—well, if I might coin a word, Sir—I think +they're 'orrible!</span>"</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p class="ph3">WAR COMPUNCTION.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we can't motor over to Potwick, lunch at 'The George,' and +play a round of golf?" said the Reverend Henry.</p> + +<p>"Not without feeling rather—well, rotters and outsiders," said +Sinclair regretfully.</p> + +<p>"At least we couldn't of course go in the big car," said I, "and we +should be almost bound to have lunch at that little tea-shop, and it +wouldn't do to play a whole round of golf."</p> + +<p>"It is rather a nice point," said Henry, "what one can do in War +time without feeling that one is stamping oneself. Sinclair here was +shooting pheasants a fortnight ago."</p> + +<p>"Well, the birds were <i>there</i>, you know," said Sinclair, "and it's a +rotten slow business catching them in traps. Besides, we sent them all +to the Red Cross people."</p> + +<p>"The weak spot about golf," said the Reverend Henry, "is that there's +no way of sending the results to the Red Cross. There's really no other +earthly reason why one shouldn't play. There's every reason why one +should, but——"</p> + +<p>"I haven't played since the War began," said I.</p> + +<p>"Nor I. But I have a notion that if one played without caddies and with +old balls——"</p> + +<p>"Or got a refugee for a caddy and grossly overpaid him," Henry put in +hopefully.</p> + +<p>"I know what you want, Sinclair," said I. "I know perfectly well +what you want. You would like to play golf, but you wouldn't feel +comfortable unless you had a notice pinned to your back in some such +terms as these—'<span class="sc">This man, though he may not look it, is over 38; +he is also medically unfit. He has two brothers and a nephew at the +front. He has more than once taken the chair at recruiting meetings and +he is entertaining seven belgians. He has already sent three sweaters +and a pair of ski socks to the fleet. This is the first holiday he has +had for three months, and he is now playing a round of golf.</span>' Then +you would feel all right."</p> + +<p>"Yes, in your case, Sinclair, it is merely moral cowardice," said +Henry. "But it's queer about golf. Every one admits that billiards is +all right, and—I think—Badminton."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps I am a bit over-sensitive," said I, "but I'm bound to +say that even if I were playing billiards in a public place at present +I should feel happier if I used the butt end of the cue."</p> + +<p>"The problem seems to be closely allied," said the Reverend Henry, "to +the problem of Sabbath observance when I was a child. We were very +strict in our household. We were not allowed to play games of any sort +on Sunday so long as they were played according to the accepted rules; +but we discovered after a time that if we played them <i>wrong</i> no one +objected. We should certainly have been punished for playing tennis +with a tennis racquet, but if we played with a walking-stick or the +flat side of a pair of bellows there was not the slightest objection."</p> + +<p>"That's what I feel like," said Sinclair. "I don't want to do the old +things in the old ways."</p> + +<p>"We never have people to dinner now," said I, "but we have shoals to +lunch."</p> + +<p>"It is all deplorably illogical," said the Reverend Henry. "But so long +as one has a sense of decency it seems impossible to scorch about in a +motor bulging with golf clubs."</p> + +<p>"Quite impossible. I propose that we get Mrs. Henry to make us some +sandwiches and go for a long walk."</p> + +<p>It was at this juncture that the morning papers came in with the news +of the battle cruiser victory in the North Sea.... We had a fine run +across the moor in the big car, an excellent lunch at "The George," and +managed to get in two rounds before it was dark.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + + +<p class="ph3">ON THE SPY TRAIL.</p> + + + +<p class="ph4">II.</p> + +<p>People don't always know that Jimmy's dog is a bloodhound. One man +said it was a Great Scott—at least that is what he said when he saw +it. You see, when it is pensive, it sometimes looks like a spaniel and +sometimes like an Airedale—or it would if it hadn't got smooth hair +and a bushy tail which curls. Jimmy was undecided for a long time what +to call it.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"> +<a href="images/086full.jpg"> +<img src="images/086.jpg" width="500" height="377" alt="OUR SPECIAL VOLUNTEER RESERVES" /> +</a> + + +<div class="caption"><p class="left">OUR SPECIAL VOLUNTEER RESERVES.</p> + +<p><i>Instructor.</i> "<span class="sc">Change arms by numbers. One—two——Come along, Sir! +What are you playing at now? Keep your banjo solo for the domestic +hearth.</span>"</p></div> +</div> + +<p>The milkman said Jimmy ought to call it "For instance," and then people +would know what it was for. The milkman thought of a lot more names +before a week was over, for Jimmy's bloodhound tracked down a can of +his milk and lapped it up. It is a very good lapper. It lapped so hard +that Jimmy had to pull the can off its head. Jimmy said it was the +suction and that all good bloodhounds were like that.</p> + +<p>A man stopped Jimmy in the street and asked him if that was the dog +that tracked down the German spy to his lair. Jimmy said it was, and +the man was very pleased: he patted the bloodhound on the head and +said, "Good old Faithful!"—just like that.</p> + +<p>Jimmy showed him the pork-butcher's shop where he did it, and the +man said if Jimmy would wait a minute he would go and buy the dog +some German fruit. Jimmy said the man bought a large kind of sausage +which had a red husk. He then stooped down and said, "Good old chap, +I confer upon you the Order of the Faithful Sausage, 1st class, and +if you catch another German spy I'll give you a season ticket." When +Jimmy's bloodhound saw the red sausage he began to bay, and he hurled +himself upon it with much vigour, Jimmy says. The man watched Jimmy's +bloodhound working, and he said, "<i>Magna est fidelitas et prevalebit</i>," +which he said meant that "Old Faithful would down the Germans every +time."</p> + +<p>Jimmy calls his bloodhound Faithful now, and he is keener than ever on +catching another German spy.</p> + +<p>Jimmy says he thought he was on the track of one the other day. He +was walking down a road when suddenly Faithful began straining at the +leash, as if he scented one. But it wasn't a German after all; it was a +goat. It was in a field. Jimmy said he made sure it was a German until +he saw it.</p> + +<p>The goat was having its tea on the far side of the field. Jimmy hadn't +seen the goat before, so he loosed Faithful at it. Faithful bounded +towards the goat very hard at first, and then stopped and began to +deploy.</p> + +<p>Jimmy said the goat was very surprised when it saw Faithful and jumped +three feet into the air all at once. Jimmy says Faithful makes things +do like that. You see Faithful was crawling hand over hand towards it +on the grass, and the goat looked as if it expected Faithful to go off +suddenly.</p> + +<p>Then the goat said "Yes! Yes!" several times with its head and began to +moo.</p> + +<p>Jimmy said the goat must have been winding up the starting handle, for +it suddenly slipped in the clutch and got into top gear in five yards. +It was a flexible goat, Jimmy says. Faithful is a good runner; it has a +kind of side-stroke action when it runs fast, and this puzzled the goat +and made it skid a bit on the grass.</p> + +<p>Jimmy sat on the gate and watched them. After five times round the +field the goat sat down and looked nonplussed.</p> + +<p>Jimmy knows all about goats; he knows what to do with them, and he +showed me. He got it so tame that it would feed out of your hand. It +ate half a newspaper one day and it made it very fiery. Jimmy said it +was the War news. We were trying to harness it to a perambulator Jimmy +had borrowed. Jimmy said it had to have a bell on its neck so that +people would know it was coming, just like the Alps.</p> + +<p>Jimmy said goats could jump from one Alp to the other, and they always +did that in Switzerland and it sounded very pretty in the evening.</p> + +<p>I hadn't got a little bell that tinkled so I brought the dinner bell, +and we tied it on to the goat's neck with a rope. Jimmy said it would +make the goat feel glad.</p> + +<p>It took us a long time to harness the goat properly because it was +so fidgety. There wasn't much room in the cart, but we both managed +to squeeze in, and Faithful ran on in front. The goat doesn't like +Faithful; it has an aversion to him when he bays. Faithful knew the +goat was coming after him because he could hear the bell.</p> + +<p>There was more room for Jimmy when I fell out, but Faithful kept +straight in the middle of the road doing the side-stroke as hard as he +could with both hands. I could hear the bell. Jimmy said a horse and +trap climbed over the hedge to let them pass. The man in the trap said +something to Jimmy, but Jimmy couldn't catch what he said; it was such +a long sentence. Jimmy said they went into an ironmonger's shop, all +of them. Faithful got there first. He deployed amongst some buckets +which were outside the shop. So did the goat. The noise disturbed the +ironmonger. He took his wife and children into the cellar. Jimmy said +it was the noise that did it, and the goat's face.</p> + +<p>The ironmonger's wife told Jimmy she had had a shock; she spoke to him +out of the cellar window. Jimmy says she had a catch in her breath.</p> + +<p>The goat didn't go back to the field very quickly; it was because one +of the wheels was bent and the goat seemed to have caught a hiccough. +That was because it ran so fast after eating the newspaper, Jimmy says. +He says all goats are like that.</p> + +<p>The goat won't eat out of Jimmy's hand now; whenever it sees Jimmy it +tries to climb a tree. A boy told Jimmy that the man who owns the goat +is concerned about it, so Jimmy goes hunting German spies with Faithful +down another road now.</p> + +<hr class="sm" /> + +<p class="ph4">The Two Blüchers.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A century since, joy filled our cup</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To hear of <span class="sc">Blücher</span> "coming up";</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To-day joy echoes round the town</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To hear of <i>Blücher</i> going down.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/087full.jpg"> +<img src="images/087.jpg" width="800" height="544" alt="In order that no possible means" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p><span class="sc">In order that no possible means of injuring England +may be neglected, it is understood that the German professors of +necromancy and witchcraft have been requested to make the best use of +their magical powers.</span></p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">ZEPPELIN DRILL.</p> + +<p>I had often seen the little lady at No. 4, but it is only lately that I +have discovered that there is in her the makings of a General.</p> + +<p>We found out about her strategic dispositions in a roundabout way. Her +maid told the milkman, and in the course of nature the news came to us. +Every night her maid carries into her room a fur coat, a large pair of +boots and a coal-scuttle.</p> + +<p>It is, of course, her preparation to meet a Zeppelin attack.</p> + +<p>Everybody is getting ready. Bulpitt's wife's mother, for +example—Bulpitt is my next-door neighbour—is making him dig a +bomb-proof hole in the garden. Bulpitt thought there might be some +difficulty about getting her into it. I pointed out that there would be +more difficulty in getting her out—the hole is very deep. He said he +didn't worry about that.</p> + +<p>Two nights later we had a scare. Every light went out along the +road and people were doing all kinds of safe things. It turned out +afterwards that Stewart was testing his family Zeppelin drill, and +fired three shots to make it realistic. His wife then put the baby +in the copper with the lid one inch open. She herself stood beside a +certain wall which, according to Stewart, could not be knocked down +because of the stresses and strains that would be set up.</p> + +<p>That was all very well for him; the only thing that went wrong was +that a little water had been left in the copper. But what about poor +Johnson, who had to pile all the mattresses in the coal-cellar? He was +awfully black and angry when he found out.</p> + +<p>And what about Carruthers, who emptied a fire-pail on the drawing-room +fire, and had to explain a long muddy pool to his wife, who is rather +deaf and hadn't heard the shots?</p> + +<p>As for Bulpitt's wife's mother, she was in the pit for over an hour +before we hauled her out. The first time we got her to the surface +she gasped out, quite smilingly, "Now I know what it's like in the +tren——" and then she slipped back with an oozy thud. The second time +she said, "I don't think they'll come ag——" The third time she said, +"I don't care if the Zeppel——" And when we did get her out she said +nothing at all, and I was sorry for Bulpitt.</p> + +<p>Amidst all these scenes of confusion little Miss Agatha at No. 4 stood +at attention in a fur overcoat and a big pair of boots that would +easily slip on, with a coal-scuttle on her head to keep off bombs. She +stood there warm, safe, and respectably clad, waiting till the house +crashed about her and the time came to save herself.</p> + +<p>I hate to think of the Zeppelins coming; but if they do come I +hope—how I hope!—I shall be near No. 4 to see the indomitable little +lady emerge.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">TEMPORA MUTANTUR.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In <span class="sc">Walpole's</span> time, not over nice,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each man was said to have his price;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">We've changed since then;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For, if my daughter's word is fact,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The world to-day is simply packed</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">With "priceless" men.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">Journalistic Candour.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"When a court-martial was opened for the trial of two sergeants at +Woolwich yesterday one of the officers questioned the right of a +reporter to be present.... The reporter was told to leave, which he +did, after protesting that an official shorthand note was an entirely +different thing from a newspaper report."—<i>Daily Chronicle.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">A LETTER TO THE FRONT.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jeremy looked up from her knitting. "I want you to do something +for me," she said to her husband.</p> + +<p>"Anything except sing," said Jeremy lazily.</p> + +<p>"It's just to write a letter."</p> + +<p>"My dear, of course. <i>The Complete Letter-writer</i>, by J. P. Smith. +Chapter V—'Stiff Notes to Landlords'—shows Mr. Smith at his best. +'Gossipy Budgets, and should they be crossed?'—see Chapter VI. Bless +you, I can write to <i>anybody.</i>"</p> + +<p>"This is to a man you've never met. He's a private at the Front and his +name is Mackinnon."</p> + +<p>"'Dear Mr. Mackinnon'—that's how I should begin. Do we want to say +anything particular, or are we just trying the new notepaper?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jeremy put down her work and gave herself up to explanation. +Private Mackinnon was in a school friend's husband's regiment, and he +never got any letters or parcels from anybody, and the friend's husband +had asked his wife to ask her friends——</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit," said Jeremy. "We shall want the College of Heralds in +this directly." He took out his pencil and drew up a pedigree:—</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> + +<img src="images/088.jpg" width="400" height="147" alt="He took out his pencil and drew up a pedigree" /> + +</div> + + +<p>"There you are. Now <i>you</i> think it's J. P. S.'s turn to write to +Mackinnon." He drew a line from one to the other. "Very well; I shall +tell him about the old school."</p> + +<p>"You do see, don't you?" said Mrs. Jeremy. "All the others get letters +and things from their friends, and poor Mr. Mackinnon gets nothing. +Katharine wants to get up a surprise for him, and she's asking +half-a-dozen of her friends to send him things and write him jolly +letters." She picked up the muffler she had been knitting. "This is for +him, and I said you'd do the letter. You write such jolly ones."</p> + +<p>Jeremy threw away the end of his cigar and got up.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what about?" he said, running his hand through his hair. +"This is going to be very difficult."</p> + +<p>"Oh, just one of your nice funny letters like you write to me."</p> + +<p>"Quite like that?" said Jeremy earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Well, not quite like that," smiled Mrs. Jeremy; "but you know what I +mean. He'd love it."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Jeremy, "we'll see what we can do."</p> + +<p>He withdrew to his library and got to work.</p> + +<p>"<i>My dear Mr. Mackinnon</i>," he wrote, "<i>the weather here is perfectly +beastly</i>."</p> + +<p>He looked at it thoughtfully and then put it on one side. "We won't +destroy it," he said to himself, "because we may have to come back to +it, but at present we don't like it."</p> + +<p>He began another sheet of paper.</p> + +<p>"<i>My dear Mackinnon, who do you think it is? Your old friend Jeremy +Smith!</i>"</p> + +<p>He murmured it to himself three or four times, crossed out "old" and +put "new," and then placed this sheet on the top of the other.</p> + +<p>"<i>My dear Mackinnon, yesterday the Vicar</i>——"</p> + +<p>"I knew it would be difficult," he said, and took a fourth sheet. +Absently he began to jot down a few possible openings:—</p> + +<p>"<i>I am a Special Constable ...</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Have you read Mrs. Humphry Ward's latest ...</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>I hope the War won't last long ...</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "but we're not being really funny enough."</p> + +<p>He collected his letters as far as they had gone and took them to his +wife.</p> + +<p>"You see what will happen, darling," he said. "Mr. Mackinnon will read +them, and he will say to himself, 'There's a man called Jeremy P. Smith +who is a fool.' The news will travel down the line. They will tell +themselves in Alsace that J. P. Smith, the Treasurer of the Little +Blessington Cricket Club, is lacking in grey matter. The story will get +across to the Germans in some garbled form; 'Smith off crumpet,' or +something of that sort. It will reach the Grand Duke <span class="sc">Nicholas</span>; +it will traverse the neutral countries; everywhere the word will be +spread that your husband is, as they say, barmy. I ask you, dear—is it +fair to Baby?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Jeremy crumpled up the sheets and threw them in the fire.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jeremy," she said, "you could do it so easily if you wanted to. If +you only said, 'Thank you for being so brave,' it would be something."</p> + +<p>"But you said it had to be a 'jolly' one."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that was silly of me. I didn't mean that. Just write what you +want to write—never mind about what I said."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but that's easy," said Jeremy with great relief; "I can do that on +my head."</p> + +<p>And this was the letter (whether he wrote it on his head or not I +cannot say):—</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">My Dear Mr. Mackinnon</span>,—You are not married, I believe, but +perhaps you will be some day when the War is over. You will then get +to know of a very maddening trick which wives have. You hand them a +letter over the coffee-pot beginning, 'Dear Smith, I saw a little +water-colour of yours in the Academy and admired it very much. The +what-do-you-call-it is so well done, and I like that broad effect. +Please accept an earldom,'—but, before they read any of it at all, +they turn to the signature at the end and say, 'Why, Jeremy, it's from +the <span class="sc">King</span>!' And then all your beautiful surprise is gone.</p> + +<p>"Now I don't mention this in order to put you off marriage, because +there is a lot more in it than letters over the coffee-pot, and all the +rest is delightful. But I want to tell you that, if (as I expect) you +are keeping the signature of this letter for the surprise, you will be +disappointed. I am sorry about it. I tried various signatures with a +surprise to them (you would have liked my 'Hall Caine,' I think), but I +decided that I had best stick to the one I have used for so many years, +'J. P. Smith.' It will make you ask that always depressing question, +'Who is J. P. Smith?' but this I cannot help. Besides, I want to tell +you who he is.</p> + +<p>"An hour ago he was sitting in front of a fire of logs, smoking a +cigar. He had just finished dinner, so good a dinner that he was +congratulating his wife on it as she sat knitting on the other side of +the fire. If he had a complaint to make at all, it was perhaps that the +fire was a little too hot; perhaps when he went upstairs he would find +that a little too hot also was the bottle in his bed. One has these +hardships to face. To complete the picture, I ask you to imagine a door +closed rather noisily kitchenwards, and an exclamation of annoyance +from Mr. Smith. He passes it off by explaining that he was thinking of +the baby rather than of himself.</p> + +<p>"Well, there you have this J. P. Smith person ... and at the same hour +what was this man Mackinnon doing? I don't know; you do. But perhaps +you will understand now why I want to say 'Thank you.' I know what you +will answer: 'Good Lord, I'm only doing my job, I don't want to be +<i>kissed</i> for it.' My dear Mackinnon, you don't understand. I am not +very kindly writing to you; you are very kindly letting me write. This +is <i>my</i> birthday, not yours. I give myself the pleasure of thanking +you; as a gentleman you cannot refuse it to me.</p> + +<p>"Yours gratefully, <span class="sc">J. P. Smith</span>."</p> + +<p>"You dear," said Mrs. Jeremy. "He'll simply love it."</p> + +<p>Jeremy grunted.</p> + +<p>"If I were Mackinnon," he said, "I should prefer the muffler."</p> + +<p class="author"> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A.A.M.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<a href="images/089full.jpg"> +<img src="images/089.jpg" width="650" height="451" alt="THE "KULTUR" CUT" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p class="center">THE "KULTUR" CUT.</p> +<p><span class="sc">There is a strong patriotic movement in Germany towards a national +ideal in tailorings.</span></p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">BEASTS AND SUPERBEASTS.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>[<i>A German zoologist has discovered in German New Guinea a new kind +of opossum to which he proposes to give the name of</i> Dactylopsila +Hindenburgi.]</p></blockquote> + +<p> +At the Annual Convention of the Fishes, Birds and Beasts, +Which opened with the usual invigorating feasts, +The attention of the delegates of feather, fur and fin +Was focussed on a wonderful proposal from Berlin. +</p> +<p> +The document suggested that, to signalise the feats +Of the noble German armies and the splendid German fleets, +Certain highly honoured species, in virtue of their claims, +Should be privileged in future to adopt Germanic names. +</p> +<p> +To judge by the resultant din, the screams and roars and cries, +The birds were most ungrateful and the quadrupeds likewise; +And the violence with which they "voiced" their angry discontent +Was worthy of a thoroughbred Hungarian Parliament. +</p> +<p> +The centipede declared he'd sooner lose a dozen legs +Than wear a patronymic defiled by human dregs; +And sentiments identical, in voices hoarse with woe, +Were emitted by the polecat and by the carrion crow. +</p> +<p> +The rattlesnake predicted that his rattle would be cracked +Before the name <i>Bernhardii</i> on to his tail was tacked; +And an elderly hyæna, famed for gluttony and greed, +Denounced the suffix <i>Klucki</i> as an insult to its breed. +</p> +<p> +Most impressive and pathetic was the anguish of the toad +When he found the name <i>Lissaueri</i> had on him been bestowed; +And a fine man-eating tiger said he'd sooner feed with <span class="sc">Shaw</span> +Than allow the title <i>Treitschkei</i> to desecrate his jaw. +</p> +<p> +But this memorable meeting was not destined to disperse +Without a tragedy too great for humble human verse; +For, on hearing that <i>Wilhelmi</i> had to his name been tied, +The skunk, in desperation, committed suicide. +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Count <span class="sc">Reventlow</span> in the <i>Deutsche Tageszeitung</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"It is an established fact that when our airships were, in order +to fly to the fortified place of Great Yarmouth, merely flying +over other places or cities, they were shot at from these places. +It may be assumed with certainty that these shots, which were +aimed at the airships from below, hit them, and probably they +wounded or even killed occupants of the airships. This involves an +English franc-tireur attack, ruthlessly carried out in defiance of +International Law and in the darkness of the night, upon the German +airships, which, without the smallest hostile action, wanted to fly +away over these places....</p> + +<p>The airship is a recognised weapon of war, and yet people in England +seem to demand that it shall regard itself as fair game for the +murders performed by a fanatical civil population, and shall not have +the right to defend itself."</p></blockquote> + +<p>By the offer of a princely salary, <i>Mr. Punch</i> has tried to tempt Count +<span class="sc">Reventlow</span> to join the staff in Bouverie Street. In vain. As +the chief humorist of Central Europe he feels that his services are +indispensable to the Fatherland.</p> + +<p class="break-before"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/090full.jpg"> +<img src="images/090.jpg" width="800" height="501" alt="Oh, Mother" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p>"<span class="sc">Oh, Mother! how I wish I was an angel!</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Darling! what makes you say that?</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Oh, because then, Mother, I could drop bombs on the Germans.</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">OVERWORK.</p> + +<p>The poets having indicated that they were going to take a few moments +off, the words were free to stand at ease also. They did so with a +great sigh of relief, especially one whom I recognised by his intense +weariness and also by the martial glow on his features, his muddied and +torn clothes and the bandage round his head.</p> + +<p>"You're 'war,'" I said, crossing over to speak to him.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied, "I'm 'war,' and I'm very tired."</p> + +<p>"They're sweating you?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Horribly," he replied. "In whatever they're writing about just now, +both poets and song-writers, they drag me in, and they will end lines +with me. Just to occur somewhere and be done with I shouldn't so much +mind; but they feel in honour bound to provide me with a rhyme. Still," +he added meditatively, "there are compensations."</p> + +<p>"How?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "I find myself with more congenial companions than I +used to have. In the old days, when I wasn't sung at all, but was used +more or less academically, I often found myself arm-in-arm with 'star' +or 'far' or 'scar,' and I never really got on with them. We didn't +agree. There was something wrong. But now I get better associates; +'roar,' for example, is a certainty in one verse. In fact I don't mind +admitting I'm rather tired of 'roar,' true friends as we are.</p> + +<p>"But I can see the poor young poetical fellows' difficulty; and, after +all, I do roar, don't I? Just as my old friend 'battle' here"—I bowed +to his companion—"is attached to 'rattle.'</p> + +<p>"Of course," he went on, "I'm luckier than 'battle' really, because +I do get a few other fellows to walk with, such as 'corps'—very +often—and 'before' and—far too often—'gore'; but 'battle' is tied up +to 'rattle' for the rest of his life. They're inseparable—'battle' and +'rattle.' Directly you see one you know that the other is only a few +words away. We call them the Siamese Twins."</p> + +<p>I laughed sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"There's 'cattle,'" I said, remembering 'The War-song of Dinas Vawr.'</p> + +<p>"No use just now," said 'war.' "'Rattle' is the only rhyme at the +moment; just as General <span class="sc">French</span> has his favourite one, and +that's 'trench.' If 'battle' and 'rattle' are like the Siamese Twins, +'<span class="sc">French</span>' and 'trench' are like Castor and Pollux. Now and +then the <span class="sc">Commander-in-chief</span> makes the enemy 'blench,' but for +one 'blench' you get a thousand 'trenches.' No, I feel very sorry, I +can tell you, for some of these words condemned to such a monotony of +conjunction; and really I oughtn't to complain. And to have got rid of +'star' is something."</p> + +<p>I shook him by the hand.</p> + +<p>"But there's one thing," he added, "I do object to, which not even +poor old 'battle' has to bear, and that's being forced to march with a +rhyme that isn't all there. I have to do that far too often; and it's +annoying."</p> + +<p>I asked him to explain.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "those poets who look forward are too fond of linking +me to 'o'er'—'when it's 'o'er,' don't you know (they mean 'over'). +That's a little humiliating, I always think. You wouldn't like +constantly going about with a man who'd lost his collar, would you?"</p> + +<p>I said that I shouldn't.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's like that," he said, "I am not sure that I would not prefer +'star' to that, or 'scar,' after all. They, at any rate, meant well and +were gentlemanly. But 'o'er'? No.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote> +<p>The new book for schools: "Kaiser: De Bello Jellicoe."</p> +</blockquote> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 615px;"> +<a href="images/091full.jpg"> +<img src="images/091.jpg" width="615" height="800" alt="WHO FORBIDS THE BANDS" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p class="center">WHO FORBIDS THE BANDS?</p> + +<p>["A band revives memories, it quickens association, it opens and unites +the hearts of men more surely than any other appeal can, and in this +respect it aids recruiting perhaps more than any other agency."—<i>Mr. +<span class="sc">Rudyard Kipling</span> at the Mansion House meeting promoted by the +Recruiting Bands Committee.</i>]</p></div> +</div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">THE AMATEUR POLICEMAN.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Friend Robert, if mere imitation</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Expresses one's deepest regard,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">How oft has such dumb adoration</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Been shown on his beat by your bard;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In dress, though the semblance seems hollow,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">How oft since my duties began</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have I striven, poor "special," to follow</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">The modes of the Man.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I have aped till my muscles grew rigid</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Your air of Olympian calm;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Have sought, when my framework was frigid,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To "stand" it <i>sans</i> quiver or qualm;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I have also endeavoured to copy</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The stealthiest thud of your boot;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And, with features as pink as a poppy,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Your solemn salute.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In vain. Every effort is futile,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And, while I am "doing my share"</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To guard (after midnight) a mute isle,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or the bit of it close by my lair,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Tis perfectly plain that, although it</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Is easy to offer one's aid,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The P.C., alas! like the poet,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Is born and not made.</span><br /> +</p> + + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 342px;"> +<a href="images/093full.jpg"> +<img src="images/093.jpg" width="342" height="450" alt="Recruit speaking of his late employer" /> +</a> +<div class="caption"><p><i>Recruit</i> (<i>speaking of his late employer</i>). "<span class="sc">An' 'e +says to me, 'It wants a coal-hammer to knock it into your 'ead.'</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Friend.</i> "<span class="sc">Did 'e say that?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Recruit.</i> "<span class="sc">Yes, 'e did. But I let 'im 'ave it back. I says, 'It +'ud blooming well take more than you to do it!'</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="ph3">THE UNLIKELY DUKE.</p> + +<p>The proposal, made the other day at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank +at Birmingham, that a dukedom should be conferred upon Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd +George</span>, in recognition of his skilful handling of the financial +crisis, has aroused intense interest both in Park Lane and in the Welsh +valleys.</p> + +<p>Even among certain of the right honourable gentleman's colleagues in +the Cabinet the idea meets with warm approval.</p> + +<p>There has not yet been a meeting of Dukes to consider how to deal with +any situation that may arise; but there is little doubt that their +Graces are keeping a keen look-out, and it may be expected that when +the time comes their plans will be found to be more or less complete.</p> + +<p>Down in Wales there is considerable rivalry already concerning the +title the <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> should take. A strong local committee +is being formed at Criccieth to urge the claims of that delightful +resort; but it may expect to receive strenuous opposition from the +people of Llanpwllwynbrynogrhos, who argue that, while Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd +George's</span> connection with their village may be slight, it would be +highly desirable that there should exist the obstacle of such a name +whenever the new Duke's fellow Dukes wished to refer to him.</p> + +<p>Since it was at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank that the idea was put +forward, we are inclined to think that whenever a title is required the +<span class="sc">Chancellor</span> might select the "Duke of Lloyds;" and on the other +hand, of course, a bank professing such admiration for Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd +George</span> could not pay a prettier compliment than by styling itself +"<span class="sc">Lloyd George's</span> Bank."</p> + +<p>We profoundly hope that there may be no truth in the ugly rumour that +one of the <span class="sc">Chancellor's</span> servants, who has been in the family +for many years and imbibed its principles, has declared emphatically +that it would be against her principles to serve in a ducal household.</p> + +<p>Needless to say there has been a flutter among estate agents. Already +vast tracts of deer-forest in Scotland have been offered at astonishing +terms to the proposed Duke, and these not only comprise some of the +finest scenery in the British Isles, but afford opportunity for +thoroughly interesting agricultural development.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George's</span> own views on the whole subject were uttered +in Welsh, and we have no doubt our readers will quite understand that +they cannot be printed here.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">Our Dumb Friends.</p> + +<p>The tradition of strong language established by our armies in Flanders +seems to be well kept up to-day, if we may judge by the following Army +Order issued at the Front:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"Though on occasion it is necessary to tie horses to trees, this +should be avoided whenever possible, as they are sure to bark and thus +destroy the trees."</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">A TERRITORIAL IN INDIA.</p> + +<p class="ph4">III.</p> + +<p>My dear <i>Mr. Punch</i>,—Although, being no longer a soldier in anything +but name (and pay), I pursue in India the inglorious vocation of a +clerk, I am nevertheless still in a position to perceive the splendid +qualities of the British Officer. Always a humble admirer of his skill +and bravery in the field, I have now in addition a keen appreciation of +his imperturbable <i>sangfroid</i> when confronted with conditions of great +difficulty in the office.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 329px;"> +<a href="images/094full.jpg"> +<img src="images/094.jpg" width="329" height="400" alt="Patriotic Old Person" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p><i>Patriotic Old Person</i> (<i>to individual bespattered by +passing motor-bus</i>). "<span class="sc">There, young feller! It'd never 'ave bin +noticed if you'd bin in khaki!</span>"</p></div> +</div> +<p>I am working in the Banana (to circumvent the Censor I am giving it an +obviously fictitious name) Divisional Area Headquarters Staff Office, +which is situated in the town of ——. Suppose we call it Mango. There +are four brigades in the Banana Divisional Area, one of which is the +Mango Brigade. Now it so happens that the General Officer Commanding +the Banana Divisional Area is at present also the General Officer +Commanding the Mango Brigade; consequently this is the sort of thing +which is always happening. The G.O.C. of the Mango Brigade writes to +himself as G.O.C. of the Banana Divisional Area: "May I request the +favour of a reply to my Memorandum No. 25731/24/Mobn., dated the 3rd +January, 1915, relating to paragraph 5 of Army Department letter No. +S.M.—43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, which amplifies +the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. XXIII.?" +Next morning he goes into the Divisional Office and finds himself +confronted by this letter. A mere civilian might be tempted to take a +mean advantage of his unusual situation. Not so the British Officer. +The dignified traditions of the Indian Army must not lightly be set +aside. The G.O.C. of the Brigade and the G.O.C. of the Divisional Area +must be as strangers for the purposes of official correspondence.</p> + +<p>So he writes back to himself:—"Your reference to Army Department +letter No. S.M.—43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, +is not understood. May I presume that you allude to Army Department +letter No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914, which +deals with the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. +XXIII.?"</p> + +<p>Later on he goes to the Brigade Office and writes—"... I would +respectfully point out that Army Department letter No. S.M.—43822/19 +(A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, cancels Army Department letter +No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914."</p> + +<p>At his next visit to the Divisional Office he writes back again:—"... +Army Department letter No. S.M.—43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th +December, 1914, does not appear to have been received in this office. +Will you be so good as to favour me with a copy?"</p> + +<p>So it goes on, and our dual G.O.C., like the gallant soldier he is, +never flinches from his duty, never swerves by a hair's-breadth from +his difficult course. This surely is the spirit which has made the +Empire.</p> + +<p>But I expect you are weary of this subject. Still, you must please not +forget that we are officially on active service, and active service +means perhaps more than you people at home imagine. Last Sunday, after +tiffin, I came upon one of my colleagues lounging in an easy-chair, one +of those with practical extensions upon which you can stretch your legs +luxuriously. With a cigarette between his lips and an iced drink beside +him, he sat reading a magazine—a striking illustration of the fine +resourcefulness of the Territorials in adapting themselves to novel +conditions.</p> + +<p>"What I object to about active service," he said, as I came up, "is the +awful hardship we have to put up with. When we were mobilised I didn't +anticipate that our path would be exactly strewn with roses, but I +confess I never expected this. I shall write to <i>The Times</i>. The public +ought to know about it;" and he settled himself more deeply into his +chair, blew out a cloud of smoke, and with a resolute expression sipped +his iced lemonade.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Punch</i>, you will be pained to hear that I have lost my hard-earned +reputation for sobriety through no fault of my own. A few days ago I +went up to the barracks to draw my regimental pay, and found that a +number of articles of clothing, issued by the Army authorities, had +accumulated for me during my absence—a pair of khaki shorts, a grey +flannel shirt with steel buttons the size of sixpences, a pair of +worsted socks and three sheets (yes, sheets for the bed; so luxuriously +do we fare in India). Perhaps you can guess what happened.</p> + +<p>"Oh, by the way, have you drawn your clothing?" asked the Lieutenant, +when he had paid me.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir," I replied.</p> + +<p>"What have you got?"</p> + +<p>"Sheets, shirt, shorts and shocks—shots, sheeks and shirks——"</p> + +<p>"That will do," he interrupted sternly. "You had better come to me +again when you are in a condition to express yourself clearly."</p> + +<p>Thus easily is a reputation acquired by years of self-control destroyed +by the pitfalls of our native tongue.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, some people have enviable reputations thrust upon +them. This is the case with my friend, Private Walls. The other night, +half of what remains of the Battalion were called out to repel an +expected attack on the barracks by the other half. Walls chanced to be +placed in a rather isolated position, and, armed with six rounds of +blank, he took cover behind a large boulder, after receiving whispered +orders from his officer not to fire if he suspected the approach of the +enemy, but to low like an ox, when assistance would immediately be sent +to him.</p> + +<p>Though a little diffident of his powers of lowing, Walls determined to +do his best, and fell sound asleep.</p> + +<p>Now, if you or I had been in his position, an officer would certainly +have discovered us in no time, and dire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> punishment would have +followed. But Walls slumbered on undisturbed, until a terrific roar in +his ear caused him to wake with a start. What had happened? He seized +his rifle and peered into the darkness. Then, to his amazement, he saw +the boulder before him rise to its feet and shamble off into the night. +It was an ox, and it had lowed!</p> + +<p>You might think his luck finished there. But no. The officer and his +men came stealthily up, and Walls unblushingly declared that he had +heard the foe approaching. It may sound incredible, but it is a fact +that a few minutes later the enemy did actually appear, and were, of +course, driven back after the customary decimation.</p> + +<p>And Walls unhesitatingly accepted the congratulations of his superior +on his vigilance, and did not even blench when assured that his was the +finest imitation ever heard of the lowing of an ox.</p> + +<p class="center"> +Yours ever,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;"><span class="sc">One of the <i>Punch</i> Brigade</span>.</span> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<a href="images/095full.jpg"> +<img src="images/095.jpg" width="650" height="434" alt="Officer. "Didn't I tell yer 'e was no good" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p><i>Officer.</i> "<span class="sc">Didn't I tell yer 'e was no good? Look +at 'im—playin' football when us fellers is drillin'!</span>"</p></div> +</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"The German resistance is formidable but the allies' artillery has +forced the enemy to retire from some trenches abandinging prisoners, +dead, and wounded."—<i>Buenos Aires Standard.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>This gives the lie to the many stories of German callousness that we +hear.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">TURNS OF THE DAY.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>[<i>A fifteen-minutes' speech on affairs by a public man has been added +to the programme of the Empire music-hall.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p>There is no truth that the late Viceroy of <span class="sc">Ireland</span> is to +appear at the Alhambra in a brief address, explaining why he chose the +title of "Tara."</p> + +<p>All efforts to induce Mr. <span class="sc">Masterman</span> to appear at the Holborn +Empire next week in a burlesque of <i>The Seats of the Mighty</i> have +failed.</p> + +<p>Great pressure is being brought to bear upon Mr. <span class="sc">Bernard Shaw</span> +to induce him to add gaiety to the Palladium programme next week by a +twenty-minutes' exposure of England's folly, hypocrisy, fatuity and +crime, a subject on which he knows even more than is to be known.</p> + +<p>Up to the present moment Mr. <span class="sc">H. G. Wells</span> has refused all +offers to appear at the Palace in the song from <i>Patience</i>, "When I +first put this uniform on."</p> + +<p>Any statement that Mr. <span class="sc">Edmund Gosse</span> is to appear at the +Coliseum at every performance next week, in a little sketch entitled +<i>Swinging the Censor</i>, is to be taken with salt.</p> + +<p>A similar incredulity should probably be adopted in regard to the +alluring rumour that Mr. <span class="sc">Compton Mackenzie</span> will also +contribute at the same house a nightly telephonic sketch from Capri, +"<i>What Tiberius thinks of 'Sinister Street.'</i>"</p> + +<p>Negotiations are still pending, though with little chance of success, +between the management of the Hippodrome and Canon <span class="sc">Rawnsley</span>, +with a view to his giving a brief address nightly on the subject "How +to write a War sonnet in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>We have good reason to fear that, in spite of reiterated announcements +of their engagement, Mr. <span class="sc">Max Pemberton</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Max +Beerbohm</span> will not appear on Valentine's Day, and subsequently, at +the Chiswick Empire in a topical War duologue as "The Two Max."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph4">Omar Khayyam on the North Sea battle.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They say the <i>Lion</i> and the <i>Tiger</i> sweep</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where once the Huns shelled babies from the deep,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And <i>Blücher</i>, that great cruiser—12-inch guns</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Roar o'er his head but cannot break his sleep.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="break-before"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3" >YUSSUF.</p> + +<p>"Look here," exclaimed the latest subaltern, hurling himself at the +remains of the breakfast, "those rotters have sent me a putrid sword!"</p> + +<p>"A putrid sword, dear?" his mother repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, confound them!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you want a sword at all," Dolly chipped in. "Captain +Jones says the big guns are the only weapons that count."</p> + +<p>"And how will Archie toast his crumpets?" retorted Henry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, shut up, you kids! I say, do you mind having a look at it?" The +latest subaltern was actually appealing to me. I stifled a blush, and +thought I should like to, very much.</p> + +<p>After breakfast Archibald and myself retired to the armoury.</p> + +<p>"There!" he exclaimed indignantly. "What do you think of that?" It was +lying on the bed with a black-and-gold hilt and a wonderful nickel +scabbard with gilt blobs at the top. I looked at it.</p> + +<p>"Well," I ventured, "it's a sword."</p> + +<p>Archibald sniffed.</p> + +<p>"And," I continued hastily, "it's very nice. Perhaps they've run out of +the ordinary ones. Does it cut?"</p> + +<p>He drew it, and I, assuming the air of a barber's assistant, felt its +edge.</p> + +<p>"Of course," I remarked, "I don't know much about it, but if there <i>is</i> +anything left to cut when you go out I think it should be stropped a +bit first."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the proud owner, "I ordered it at Slashers', and they +ought to know. Suppose we rub it up on young Henry's emery wheel?"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," I cried; "I should like to see it on."</p> + +<p>Archibald buckled on the scabbard and I slapped the trusty blade home.</p> + +<p>It certainly looked a bit odd. I surveyed it in profile.</p> + +<p>"No!" I exclaimed, "there is something about it ... a Yussuf air ... +that little bend at the tip is reminiscent of Turkestan."</p> + +<p>We found Henry in the workshop.</p> + +<p>"My fairy godmother," he shouted, "did you pinch it from the pantomime?"</p> + +<p>We did not deign to reply. Gingerly, very gingerly, we applied Yussuf +to the emery wheel.... Little flakes came off him—just little flakes.</p> + +<p>It was very distressing.</p> + +<p>The gardener joined us and advised some oil; then the coachman brought +us some polishing sand; bath-brick and whitening we got from the cook.</p> + +<p>It was no good. Nothing could restore those little flakes. So we went +indoors to have a look at the Encyclopædia. But there was nothing there +to help us. Yussuf was suffering from an absolutely unknown disease.</p> + +<p>We put him to bed again.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>After lunch Archibald received the following letter:—</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Dear Sir</span>,—We learn with regret that, by an inadvertence, +the wrong sword has been despatched to you. We now hasten to forward +yours, trusting that the delay has not inconvenienced you. At the same +time our representative will, with your permission, collect the sword +now in your possession as it is of exceptional value, and also has to +be inscribed immediately for presentation.</p> + +<p class="center"> +Your obedient Servants,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;"><span class="sc">Slasher and Co.</span>"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"For presentation," I repeated; "then it's not meant to cut with, and +those blobs really are gold." I touched one respectfully.</p> + +<p>The latest subaltern pulled himself together and rang the bell. +"When a man calls here for a sword," he told the servant, "give him +this"—pointing dramatically at Yussuf. "And Jenkins!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir."</p> + +<p>"Tell him that I have just sailed for ... er—for the Front."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">LE DERNIER CRI.</p> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">Being the Soliloquy of the Oldest Parrot.</span></p> + +<p><i>Hallo! Hallo! Hallo! Polly-olly-wolly! Scratch a poll!</i> It isn't that +I shout the loudest, though I fancy I <i>could</i> keep my end up in the +monkey-house if it came to that. Many a parrot wastes all his energy +in wind. It's brains, not lungs, that make a full crop. Extend your +vocabulary. Another thing—don't make yourself too cheap. The parrot +that always gives his show free lives the whole of his life on official +rations—and nothing else. <i>Half-a-pint o' mild-an'-bitter! Pom! Pom!</i></p> + +<p>I'm the oldest inhabitant, and I've the biggest waist measurement for +my height in Regent's Park. That's my reward. I'll admit I've a bad +memory; most parrots have, except the one that used to sing "Rule +Britannia" and knew the name of every keeper in the Zoo—and <i>he</i> went +into hospital with something-on-the-brain. But <i>I</i>'ve moved with the +times. There aren't many catch-phrases I haven't caught. "Walker," +"Who's Griffiths?" and drawing corks in the old "Champagne Charlie" +days; and "You're another," "Get your hair cut," "Does your mother know +you're out?" "My word, if I catch you bending!" "After you with the +cruet." But I've a bad memory. <i>Have a banana? I don't think!...</i></p> + +<p>I'm never quite sure of myself, and so just have to say what comes +uppermost. <i>Shun! Stanterteeze! Form-forz, you two! Half-a-pint o'....</i></p> + +<p>I've found it doesn't do to repeat <i>everything</i> the sergeant says. +We had a Naval parrot once.... Why, take for instance that young man +with his greasy feathers brushed back like a parrakeet's. He looked +good for a few grapes any day, but when, just to encourage him, I +chortled, "<span class="sc">Kitchener</span> wants yer!" he frowned and walked away. I +did good business later, though. Pulled up a bunch of Khaki people by +just shouting "'Alt!" I admired their taste in oranges. <i>Down with the +<span class="sc">Kaiser</span>!</i> By the way, I've shouted "Down with" almost everybody +in my time. <i>Johnny, get your gun; Goobye, Tipperlairlee.</i></p> + +<p>But the best is "<i>Veeve la Fronce</i>." Last week one of those foreign +officers heard me "veeving" softly to myself. In half a minute he'd +collected a dozen of his friends and relatives, and I could see more +coming in the distance. The excitement! My tail! "Marie! Alphonse!" he +shouted. "<i>Regarday dong ce brave wozzo!</i>" They gave me butterscotch; +they gave me muscatels; they gave me a meringue, and lots of little +sweet biscuits (I don't take monkey-nuts these days, thank you!) and +they all talked at once. Then a lovely creature with a cockatoo's crest +on her head bent forward and coaxed me in a voice like ripe bananas. +And there was I sitting like a fool, my mouth crammed and my mind a +blank! The crowd was growing every minute. The cockatoo girl ran to the +kiosk and bought me French nougat; I ate it. Then I made a desperate +effort—"Has anybody here seen Kelly?"</p> + +<p>Bless the camel-keeper! At that very moment I heard him ringing the +"all-out" bell.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>The Times</i> says that the <i>Blücher</i> was the reply of the German +Admiralty to the first British <i>Dreadnought</i>.</p> + +<p>Admiral Sir <span class="sc">David Beatty</span> begs to state that he has forwarded +this reply to the proper quarter.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>We have pleasure in culling the following extract from the account of a +wedding, as set forth in <i>The Silver Leaf</i> (published at Somerset West, +Cape Province):—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"Whilst the register was being signed, Mme. Wortley, of Cape Town, +sang 'Entreat me not to leave thee' with great feeling."</p></blockquote> + +<p>It seems perhaps a little early to discuss the question of marital +separation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 625px;"> +<a href="images/097full.jpg"> +<img src="images/097.jpg" width="625" height="800" alt="HOW TO KEEP FIT. FOR REALLY BUSY MEN" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">HOW TO KEEP FIT. FOR REALLY BUSY MEN.<br /><br /></p></div> + + +<p class="ph4">1. <span class="sc">On the way to the station.</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">2. <span class="sc">Waiting for the train.</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">3. <span class="sc">On the 'bus—"with deep breathing—neck wrists."</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">4. <span class="sc">At the office—the correspondence.</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">5. <span class="sc">Weighing business propositions.</span></p> + +<p class="ph4">6. <span class="sc">Waiting at the telephone.</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">THE VOLUNTEERS.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p><i>Time</i>: 7.30 <span class="sc">P.M.</span> <i>Scene: A large disused barn, where forty +members of the local Volunteer Training Corps are assembled for +drill. They are mostly men well over thirty-eight years of age, but +there is a sprinkling of lads of under nineteen, while a few are men +of "military age" who for some good and sufficient reason have been +unable to join the army. They are all full of enthusiasm, but at +present they possess neither uniform nor arms. Please note that in the +following dialogue the Sergeant alone speaks aloud; the other person</i> +thinks, <i>but gives no utterance to his words</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i> Fall in! Fall in! Come smartly there, fall in</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And recollect that when you've fallen in</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You stand at ease, a ten-inch space between</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Your feet—like this; your hands behind your back—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Like this; your head and body both erect;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Your weight well poised on both feet, not on one.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dress by the right, and let each rear rank man</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Quick cover off his special front rank man.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That's it; that's good. Now when I say, "Squad, 'shun,"</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let every left heel swiftly join the right</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Without a shuffling or a scraping sound</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And let the angle of your two feet be</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just forty-five, the while you smartly drop</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hands to your sides, the fingers lightly bent,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thumbs to the front, but every careful thumb</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kept well behind your trouser-seams. Squad, 'shun!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> Ha! Though I cannot find my trouser-seams,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I rather think I did that pretty well.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thomas, my footman, who is on my left,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Batts, the draper, drilling on my right,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And e'en the very Sergeant must have seen</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The lithe precision of my rapid spring.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i> When next I call you to attention, note</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">You need not slap your hands against your thighs.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It is not right to slap your thighs at all.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> He's looking at me; I am half afraid</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I used unnecessary violence</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And slapped my thighs unduly. It is bad</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That Thomas should have cause to grin at me</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And lose his proper feeling of respect,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Being a flighty fellow at the best;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Batts the draper must not——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Stand at ease!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> Aha! He wants to catch me, but he——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage"> 'Shun!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> Bravo, myself! I did not slap them then.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I am indubitably getting on.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I wonder if the Germans do these things,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And what they sound like in the German tongue.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Germans are a——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Sharply number off</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">From right to left, and do not jerk your heads.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><span class="stage">[<i>They number off.</i></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> I'm six, an even number, and must do</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The lion's share in forming fours. What luck</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For Batts, who's five, and Thomas, who is seven.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They also serve, but only stand and wait,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">While I behind the portly form of Batts</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Insert myself and then slip out again</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Clear to the front, observing at the word</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The ordered sequence of my moving feet.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come let me brace myself and dare——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Form fours!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> I cannot see the Sergeant; I'm obscured</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Behind the acreage of Batts's back.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Indeed it is a very noble back</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And would protect me if we charged in fours</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Against the Germans, but I rather think</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We charge two deep, and therefore——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Form two deep!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> Thank Heaven I'm there, although I mixed my feet!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I am oblivious of the little things</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That mark the due observance of a drill;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Thomas sees my faults and grins again.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let him grin on; my time will come once more</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">At dinner, when he hands the Brussels sprouts.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><span class="stage">[<i>The drill proceeds.</i></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now we're in fours and marching like the wind.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This is more like it; this is what we need</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To make us quit ourselves like regulars.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Left, right, left, right! The Sergeant gives it out</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As if he meant it. Stepping out like this</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We should breed terror in the German hordes</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And drive them off. The Sergeant has a gleam</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">In either eye; I think he's proud of us.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or does he meditate some stratagem</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To spoil our marching?</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">On the left form squad!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> There! He has done it! He has ruined us!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I'm lost past hope, and Thomas, too, is lost;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And in a press of lost and tangled men</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The great broad back of Batts heaves miles away.</span><br /> +</p> + + +<p><span class="stage">[<i>The Sergeant explains and the drill proceeds.</i></span></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Volunteer.</i> No matter; we shall some day learn it all,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The standing difference 'twixt our left and right,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The bayonet exercise, the musketry,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And all the things a soldier does with ease.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I must remember it's a long, long way</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To Tipperary, but my heart's——</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The Sergeant.</i></span><span class="stage">Dismiss!</span></p> + +<p class="author"> +R. C. L. +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">MARCH AIRS.</p> + +<p>AT long last the War Office is waking up to the value of bands for +military purposes, and a good deal of interest will be aroused by the +discussion now proceeding as to the best airs for use on the march.</p> + +<p>The following suggestions have been hastily collected by wireless and +other means:—</p> + +<p>From the Trenches: "Why not try 'Come into the garden mud'?"</p> + +<p>From a very new Subaltern: "I had thought of 'John Brown's Body,' but +personally I am more concerned just now with Sam Browne's Belt."</p> + +<p>From a Zeppelin-driver: "There's an old Scotch song that I have tried +successfully on one of our naval lieutenants. It runs like this:—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O, I'll tak the high road and you'll tak' the low road,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">An' I'll be in Yarmouth afore ye."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>From the Captain of the <i>Sydney</i>: "What's the matter with 'The Jolly +Müller'?"</p> + +<p>From President <span class="sc">Wilson</span>: "Have you thought of 'The little rift +within the lute,' as played by our Contra-band?"</p> + +<p>From Admiral <span class="sc">von Tirpitz</span>: "A familiar air with me is 'Crocked +in the cradle of the deep.'"</p> + +<p>From Sir <span class="sc">Edward Grey</span>: "If it could be done diplomatically, I +should like to see recommended, 'Dacia, Dacia, give me your answer, +do.'"</p> + +<p>From the Crew of the <i>Lion</i>: "For England, Home, and Beatty."</p> + +<p>From an East Coast Mayor: "Begone, dull scare!"</p> + +<p>From the King of <span class="sc">Rumania</span>: "Now we shan't be long."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"> +<a href="images/099full.jpg"> +<img src="images/099.jpg" width="650" height="406" alt="Old Farmer-to village Military Critic" /> +</a> + +<div class="caption"><p><i>Old Farmer</i> (<i>to village Military Critic</i>). +"<span class="sc">Strateegy? Dod, man, ye havena as muckle strateegy as wad tak' ye +across Argyle Street unless a polisman helpit ye.</span>"</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>The German War Book</i> (<span class="sc">Murray</span>) is a work in whose authenticity +many of us would have refused to believe this time last year. It is a +pity indeed that it was not then in the hands of all those who still +clung to the theory that the Prussian was a civilised and humane being. +However, now that everyone can read it, translated and with a wholly +admirable preface by Professor <span class="sc">J. H. Morgan</span>, it is to be hoped +that the detestable little volume will have a wide publicity. True, it +can add little to our recent knowledge of the enemy of mankind; but it +is something to have his guiding principles set down upon the authority +of his own hand. Cynical is hardly an adequate epithet for them; +indeed I do not know that the word exists that could do full justice +to the compound of hypocrisy and calculated brutishness that makes up +this manual. It may at first strike the reader as surprising to find +himself confronted by sentiments almost, one might say, of moderation +and benevolence. He will ask with astonishment if the writer has not, +after all, been maligned. Before long, however, he will discover that +all this morality is very carefully made conditional, and that the +conditions are wide. In short, as the Preface puts it, the peculiar +logic of the book consists in "ostentatiously laying down unimpeachable +rules, and then quietly destroying them by debilitating exceptions." +For example, on the question of exposing the inhabitants of occupied +territory to the fire of their own troops—the now notorious Prussian +method of "women and children first"—the <i>War Book</i>, while admitting +pious distaste for such practice, blandly argues that its "main +justification" lies in its success. Thus, with sobs and tears, like +the walrus, the Great General Staff enumerates its suggested list of +serviceable infamies. At the day of reckoning what a witness will this +little book be! Out of their own mouths they stand here condemned +through all the ages.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mrs. <span class="sc">Humphry Ward</span>, chief of novelists-with-a-purpose, +vehemently eschews the detachment of the Art-for-Art's-Saker, while +a long and honourable practice has enabled her to make her stories +bear the burden of her theses much more comfortably than would seem +theoretically possible. <i>Delia Blanchflower</i> (<span class="sc">Ward, Lock</span>) +is a suffrage novel, dedicated with wholesome intent to the younger +generation, and if one compares the talented author's previous +record of uncompromising, and indeed rather truculent, anti-suffrage +utterances one may note (with approval or dismay) a considerable +broadening of view on the vexed question. For her attack here is +delivered exclusively on the militant position. Quite a number of +decent folk in her pages are suffragistically inclined, and there is +a general admission that the eager feet that throng the hill of the +Vote are not by any means uniformly shod in elastic-sided boots, if +one may speak a parable. It is a very notable admission and does the +writer honour; for such revisions are rare with veteran and committed +campaigners. The story is laid in the far-away era of the burnings of +cricket pavilions and the lesser country houses. <i>Delia</i> is a beautiful +goddess-heiress of twenty-two, with eyes of flame and a will of steel, +a very agreeable and winning heroine. Her tutor, <i>Gertrude Marvell</i>, +the desperate villain of the piece, a brilliant fanatic (crossed in +love in early youth), wins the younger girl's affections and inspires +and accepts her dedication of self and fortune to the grim purposes of +the "Daughters of Revolt." <i>Mark Winnington</i>, her guardian, appointed +by her father to counteract the tutor's baleful influence, finds both +women a tough proposition. For <i>Gertrude</i> has brains<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> to back her +fanaticism, and <i>Delia</i> is a spirited handful of a ward. Loyalty to her +consecration and to her friend outlast her belief in the methods of the +revolting ones. Her defences are finally ruined by Cupid, for <i>Mark</i> is +a handsome athletic man of forty or so, a paragon of knightly courtesy +and persuasive speech and silences, and compares very favourably with +the policemen in Parliament Square. Poor <i>Gertrude</i> makes a tragic +end in a fire of her own kindling, so that the moral for the younger +generation cannot be said to be set forth in ambiguous terms.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>Arundel</i> (<span class="sc">Fisher Unwin</span>) is one of those stories that begins +with a Prologue; and as this was only mildly interesting I began to +wonder whether I was going to be as richly entertained as one has by +now a right to expect from Mr. <span class="sc">E. F. Benson</span>. But it appeared +that, like a cunning dramatist, he was only waiting till the audience +had settled into their seats; when this was done, up went the curtain +upon the play proper, and we were introduced to Arundel itself, an +abode of such unmixed and giddy joy that I have been chortling over the +memory of it ever since. Arundel was the house at Heathmoor where lived +<i>Mrs. Hancock</i> and her daughter <i>Edith</i>; and <i>Mrs. Hancock</i> herself, +and her house and her neighbourhood and her car and her servants and +her friends—all, in fact, that is hers, epitomize the Higher Suburbia +with a delicate and merciless satire that is beyond praise. I shall +hurry over the actual story, because that, though well and absorbingly +told, is of less value than the setting. Next door to the <i>Hancocks</i> +lived a blameless young man called <i>Edward</i>, whom for many reasons, +not least because their croquet-lawns, so to speak, "marched," <i>Mrs. +Hancock</i> had chosen as her daughter's husband. So blamelessly, almost +without emotion, these were betrothed, walking among the asparagus beds +on a suitable May afternoon "ventilated by a breath of south-west wind +and warmed by a summer sun," and the course of their placid affection +would have run smooth enough but for the sudden arrival, out of the +Prologue, of <i>Elizabeth</i>, fiercely alive and compelling, the ideal +of poor <i>Edward's</i> dreams. Naturally, therefore, there is the devil +to pay. But, good as all this is, it is <i>Mrs. Hancock</i> who makes the +book, first, last and all the time. She is a gem of purest ray serene, +and my words that would praise her are impotent things. Only unlimited +quotation could do justice to her sleek self-deception and little +comfortable meannesses. In short, as a contemporary portrait, the +mistress of Arundel seems to be the best thing that Mr. <span class="sc">Benson</span> +has yet given us; worth—if he will allow me to say so—a whole +race of <i>Dodos</i>. For comparison one turns instinctively to <span class="sc">Jane +Austen</span>; and I can sound no higher praise.</p> + +<p>Love never seems to run a smooth course for girls of the name of +<i>Joan</i>; their affairs of heart, whatever the final issue may be, have +complex beginnings and make difficult, at times dismal, progress. I +attribute the rejection of the great novel of my youth to the fact +that the heroine, a rosy-cheeked girl with no more serious problems in +life than the organisation of mixed hockey matches, was ineptly given +that unhappy name. Miss <span class="sc">Mary Agnes Hamilton's</span> <i>Joan Traquair</i> +is true to the type. From the start she is handicapped by a bullying +father, an invalid sister, a lack of means and an excess of artistic +temperament, the last of these being not just a casual tendency to +picture galleries and the opera, but the kind of restless passion +which causes people to prefer sunsets to meals and to neglect their +dress. In due course she falls in love with a man called <i>Sebastian</i>, +another name which, if less familiar, is yet a sufficient warning to +the world that its owner is bound to be a nuisance on the hearth. This +<i>Sebastian</i> was an artist, ambitious and of course poor; worse, he had +a touch of genius and—worst of all—he knew it. Nevertheless <i>Joan</i> +became his wife, supposing that this was just the sort of man to make +her happy. Instead, he made her thoroughly miserable, at any rate for +a good long time; but I doubt if any reader, even with all the facts +before him, will anticipate exactly how he did it. I certainly didn't +myself, although I feel now that I ought to have done. The point of +<i>Yes</i> (<span class="sc">Heinemann</span>) is both new and true; I recommend the book +with confidence to all interested in the Joans and Sebastians of this +world.</p> + + + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 329px;"> +<a href="images/100full.jpg"> +<img src="images/100.jpg" width="329" height="450" alt="Not though the soldier knew Someone had +blundered" /></a> + +<div class="caption"><p><span class="sc">Not though the soldier knew Someone had +blundered.</span></p></div> +</div> + + +<p class="ph4">Our Cheery Allies.</p> + +<p class="center">A letter from a Japanese firm:—</p> + +<blockquote> + + +<p>"<span class="sc">Dear Sirs</span>,—Since writing you last we have no favours to +acknowledge, however, we are pleased to enter into business relation +with your respectable firm. We were delighted that the Allies +always behaved bravely in the recent battle and now are in the very +favourable condition. Our army took the possetion of Tsingtau and our +only hope remaindered is to hear the annihiration of the enemy force. +We trust the Allies will beat the Enemy in near future though we +cannot assert the time. If there are any samples of Japanese goods as +substitute of German's, kindly let us know, and we shall send the same +as soon as possible."</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph3">ENCYCLOPÆDIA GERMANICA.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins from dark aerial heights</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Pick out the peaceful places while people sleep o' nights.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins steer clear of fort and gun;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such things of dreadful menace repel the flying Hun.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins show Science at the call</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of all the savage instincts that hold them tight in thrall.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins—<i>our</i> women lying dead—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The whole of German "Kultur" is there from A to Z.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 148, FEBRUARY 3, 1915***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 44654-h.txt or 44654-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/4/6/5/44654">http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/6/5/44654</a></p> +<p> +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p> +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..40bfdd8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/44654-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/old/44654.txt b/old/44654.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8898153 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/44654.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2248 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 148, +February 3, 1915, by Various, Edited by Sir Owen Seaman + + +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. 148, February 3, 1915 + + +Author: Various + +Editor: Sir Owen Seaman + +Release Date: January 13, 2014 [eBook #44654] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, +VOL. 148, FEBRUARY 3, 1915*** + + +E-text prepared by Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 44654-h.htm or 44654-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44654/44654-h/44654-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44654/44654-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 148 + +FEBRUARY 3, 1915. + + + + + + + +CHARIVARIA. + +"Celerity," said the German CHANCELLOR to our representative +at Berlin on the eve of the War, "is essential lo us." It has, however, +taken him over five months to discover what he meant by his "scrap of +paper" speech. + +* * * + +As a substitute for the International Railway Time Table Conference, +Germany has invited Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Austria, Switzerland and +Italy to a joint conference to be held on February 3rd. Certainly +something will have to be done for the KAISER'S Time Tables. +They have been most unsatisfactory ever since the outbreak of the War. + +* * * + +A German paper reports that the KAISER is in excellent health +now, and that his girth has distinctly increased during the War. His +patriotic countrymen must be delighted at this fresh extension of +Kaiser-tum. + +* * * + +The omission of the GERMAN EMPEROR to send a telegram +of condolence to KING VICTOR EMMANUEL on the occasion +of the earthquake has called forth severe comments in Italy. The +KAISER is said to have been anxious to create the impression +that he sent the earthquake himself as a caution. + +* * * + +ENVER PASHA is said to have now returned to Constantinople. +His place in the Egyptian Expeditionary Force will, it is thought, be +taken by REVERS PASHA. + +* * * + +The EX-KHEDIVE'S war-cry: "Geneva for the Egyptians!" + +* * * + +"The GERMAN EMPEROR," said General VON KRESSENSTEIN, +the other day, in a speech to Turkish officers and men, "is a sincere +father to Islam." This statement was very necessary as many Turkish +soldiers, judging by their experience of German officers, had imagined +that the KAISER was Islam's stepfather. + +* * * + +Articles entitled "_Unser Hass gegen England_," Mr. VALENTINE +WILLIAMS tells us, continue to appear in the German Press, and a +dear old lady writes to say that she presumes the Hass in question is +the KAISER. + +* * * + +We are sorry to hear that a Scotch prisoner in Germany got into serious +trouble for referring in a letter to the fact that he was a member of +the Burns Society. The authorities imagined this to be an incendiary +association. + +* * * + +Those wideawake Germans have discovered further evidence of a shortage +of arms in our country. Attention is being drawn in Berlin to the fact +that the London County Council has decided to defer the proposal to +have a coat-of-arms until the conclusion of the War. + +* * * + +We hear that Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL is delighted at the +success of his expression, "the baby-killers," which has taken on +so wonderfully and promises to have a greater run even than Mr. +ASQUITH'S "Wait and see." Fortunately in these times there is +no jealousy between politicians. + +* * * + +_The Observer_ is wondering whether, in view of the threat of Zeppelin +raids, we are taking sufficient precautions in regard to our national +treasures. It may relieve our contemporary to know that at least one +post-impressionist has removed all his works to a secret destination in +the country. + +* * * + +During a recent aerial attack on Dunkirk some bombs, we are told, set +fire to a woollen warehouse. This just shows the danger of constructing +a warehouse of such inflammable material. + +* * * + +The War Office, _The Express_ tells us, recently requested the borough +of Sunderland to raise a brigade of field artillery. The Mayor, +however, is reported to be a Quaker and opposed to War on principle, +and it is stated that the local recruiting committee has decided to +respect the Mayor's conscientious scruples. Suggested motto for the +town, "Let Sunderland Quake." + +* * * + +Speaking of the new Lord of Appeal, a contemporary says, "Mr. Justice +Bankes is noted for his pleasant appearance, and for the fact that he +has never been known to raise his voice." He does not, in fact, belong +to the firm of Bankes and Brays. + +* * * + +As a result of the War there is a famine in glass, and prices are +up nearly 100 per cent. Here surely is a Heaven-sent chance for the +Crystal Palace to turn itself into a financial success. + +* * * + +The strike of Billingsgate fish porters was, we hear, settled in the +nick of time. The men were just beginning to brush up their language. + + * * * * * + +_The Chicago Tribune_ as quoted in _The Sunday Times_:-- + + "'C'est incredible!' remarked the thorough Parisian." + +"Pas demi," we retort in our best London accent. + + * * * * * + + "The Secretary of the Admiralty makes the following announcement:-- + + Goods for his Majesty's ships which have hitherto been sent by mail, + addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dingwall,' should in future be + addressed 'Care of Naval Store Officer, Dngwall.'" + + _Scarborough Daily Post._ + +We obey reluctantly. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: HOCH AYE! + +SCENE: _A lonely part of the Scottish Coast._ + +_German Spy_ (_who has been signalling and suddenly notices that he is +being watched_). "NEIN! NEIN! NEVER SHALL YOU LAND ON MY BELOVED +SHCOTCHLAND!"] + + * * * * * + +A THOUSAND STRONG. + + A thousand strong, + With laugh and song, + To charge the guns or line a trench, + We marched away + One August day, + And fought beside the gallant French. + + A thousand strong, + But not for long; + Some lie entombed in Belgian clay; + Some torn by shell + Lie, where they fell, + Beneath the turf of La Bassee. + + But yet at night, + When to the fight + Eager from camp and trench we throng, + Our comrades dead + March at our head, + And still we charge, a thousand strong! + + * * * * * + +MOSES II. + +(_To the New Lord of Islam._) + + He led the Chosen People forth; + Over the Red Sea tramped their legions; + They wandered East, they wandered North + Through very vague and tedious regions, + Ploughing a lot of desolating sand + Before they struck the Promised Land. + + And you, who play so many parts, + And figure in such fancy poses, + Now, poring over Syrian charts, + Dressed for the character of MOSES, + In spirit lead your Turks, a happy band, + Bound for another Promised Land. + + Promises you have made before; + And doubtless your adopted Bosches + Deemed the Canal would lend its floor + To pass them through without goloshes, + As though it were a segment of the dry + Peninsula of Sinai. + + And when they feared to lose their way + You answered them with ready wit: "Oh! + You'll have a pillar of cloud by day, + And through the night a fiery ditto, + But never said that these would be supplied + By airmen on the other side." + + Nor did you mention how the sun + Promotes a thirst in desert places, + Nor how their route was like to run + A little short of green oases, + Because the wells that glad the wanderer's sight + Have been removed by dynamite. + + Nor did you let the Faithful guess + That, on the Pentateuch's own showing, + Israel found the wilderness + Took forty years of steady going; + And after two-score summers, one would think, + Even a camel wants a drink. + + And you yourself, if still alive + And not transferred (we'll say?) to heaven, + Would by the date when they arrive + Have touched the age of 97, + And scarcely be in quite the best condition + To share their labour's full fruition. + + Come down, O fool, from Pisgah's heights, + Where, stung by Furies misbegotten, + You counterfeit Mosaic flights, + Aching for Egypt's corn and cotton; + Think how it makes the local fellah smile + To hear your _Watch upon the Nile!_ + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +The Scramble. + + "Near Bir Muhadata a British hydroplane dropped a bob on a Turkish + column, inflicting loss."--_Manchester Guardian._ + +In the mad rush made by the always unpaid Turkish troops to secure this +godsend, there were many casualties. + + * * * * * + +The Journalistic Touch. + + "This was on the morning of January 2, and Grall had had no food and + only a little water since the morning of December 31 _of the previous + year_.--Reuter."--_Daily Chronicle._ + +The italics represent our own endeavour to assist the picture. + + * * * * * + +GERMANY'S WAR STRENGTH. + +Dear _Mr. Punch_,--I cannot for the life of me understand why your +contemporaries should be in such difficulties over the above question +or how it is that they arrive at such diverse estimates. The elements +of the problem are perfectly straightforward. I worked it out on the +back of my ticket in the Tube last night, and as there can be no doubt +whatever about my conclusions I think they ought to be published. + +The present population of Germany for popular purposes (as they always +say) is 70,000,000. All the evidence goes to show that the war is still +popular in Germany, or parts of it, so we may accept that figure. Very +well. Of these, 33,000,000 are males. It seems a good many, but we +shall soon begin to whittle it down. By examining the figures of the +different "age groups" we find that fully five million of these are +under the age of seven and as quite a number are over sixty and others +are incapacitated--we have no space to enter into all these complicated +calculations here--we shall not be far wrong if we deduct at the outset +about 21,175,000 under these heads. This leaves us in round figures +twelve million. + +We now come to the question of losses up to date; and here we must +proceed with caution, for it is above all important to be on the safe +side. The present German losses are computed by the best authorities +at about two million, from all causes, up to 3 P.M. on the +13th ult. From this we must deduct, however, all those who, after being +wounded, have returned to the firing-line--say, half a million. Also +all those who, having been wounded a second time, have returned to the +front,--say, three hundred thousand. Also all those who have been three +times wounded and have still gone back to fight--say, fifty thousand. + +Then again we must remember those who have been invalided home and +recovered, and those who have been missing and are found again. And +there are the men who have been erroneously reported as prisoners, +owing to the Germans' incorrigible habit of exaggerating the number of +their own troops who have fallen into the enemy's hands. + +After all these deductions we may safely put the revised German losses +at 750,000. This should be taken off the twelve million eligible; but +it would, I think, be wise (in order to keep always on the safe side) +to add it on. This gives us 12,750,000. Very well. + +But the industries of the country must be carried on. There are the +railways, agriculture, mining. Let us say five million for these. There +are those great industries without which a nation cannot wage war; +for instance, the makers of Iron Crosses (100,000), the custodians of +ships retained in harbour (50,000), the printers of picture-postcards +(50,000), the writers of Hate-hymns, besides sundry makers of armaments +and things. + +Counting all those in and keeping on the safe side and dealing only +with round figures for popular purposes we may conclude that anything +from one to nine million must be deducted from our last figure to +arrive at a final estimate. + +To sum up, Germany's war strength cannot be more than three million or +less than eleven. This gives us a clear idea of what we have to face. + +I enclose my card in case you should think me an amateur, and have the +honour to remain, + + Yours faithfully, + STATISTICIAN. + + * * * * * + +_Men we do not introduce to the Duke of WESTMINSTER_ I.--The +German Minister of Finance: Dr. HELFFERICH. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE RETURN OF THE RAIDER. + +KAISER. "WELL, I _AM_ SURPRISED!" + +TIRPITZ. "SO WERE WE."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "YES, SIR, THESE ZEPPELIN RAIDS--WORDS CAN'T +DESCRIBE 'EM. THEY'RE--WELL, IF I MIGHT COIN A WORD, SIR--I THINK +THEY'RE 'ORRIBLE!"] + + * * * * * + +WAR COMPUNCTION. + +"I suppose we can't motor over to Potwick, lunch at 'The George,' and +play a round of golf?" said the Reverend Henry. + +"Not without feeling rather--well, rotters and outsiders," said +Sinclair regretfully. + +"At least we couldn't of course go in the big car," said I, "and we +should be almost bound to have lunch at that little tea-shop, and it +wouldn't do to play a whole round of golf." + +"It is rather a nice point," said Henry, "what one can do in War +time without feeling that one is stamping oneself. Sinclair here was +shooting pheasants a fortnight ago." + +"Well, the birds were _there_, you know," said Sinclair, "and it's a +rotten slow business catching them in traps. Besides, we sent them all +to the Red Cross people." + +"The weak spot about golf," said the Reverend Henry, "is that there's +no way of sending the results to the Red Cross. There's really no other +earthly reason why one shouldn't play. There's every reason why one +should, but----" + +"I haven't played since the War began," said I. + +"Nor I. But I have a notion that if one played without caddies and with +old balls----" + +"Or got a refugee for a caddy and grossly overpaid him," Henry put in +hopefully. + +"I know what you want, Sinclair," said I. "I know perfectly well +what you want. You would like to play golf, but you wouldn't feel +comfortable unless you had a notice pinned to your back in some such +terms as these--'THIS MAN, THOUGH HE MAY NOT LOOK IT, IS OVER 38; +HE IS ALSO MEDICALLY UNFIT. HE HAS TWO BROTHERS AND A NEPHEW AT THE +FRONT. HE HAS MORE THAN ONCE TAKEN THE CHAIR AT RECRUITING MEETINGS AND +HE IS ENTERTAINING SEVEN BELGIANS. HE HAS ALREADY SENT THREE SWEATERS +AND A PAIR OF SKI SOCKS TO THE FLEET. THIS IS THE FIRST HOLIDAY HE HAS +HAD FOR THREE MONTHS, AND HE IS NOW PLAYING A ROUND OF GOLF.' Then +you would feel all right." + +"Yes, in your case, Sinclair, it is merely moral cowardice," said +Henry. "But it's queer about golf. Every one admits that billiards is +all right, and--I think--Badminton." + +"Well, perhaps I am a bit over-sensitive," said I, "but I'm bound to +say that even if I were playing billiards in a public place at present +I should feel happier if I used the butt end of the cue." + +"The problem seems to be closely allied," said the Reverend Henry, "to +the problem of Sabbath observance when I was a child. We were very +strict in our household. We were not allowed to play games of any sort +on Sunday so long as they were played according to the accepted rules; +but we discovered after a time that if we played them _wrong_ no one +objected. We should certainly have been punished for playing tennis +with a tennis racquet, but if we played with a walking-stick or the +flat side of a pair of bellows there was not the slightest objection." + +"That's what I feel like," said Sinclair. "I don't want to do the old +things in the old ways." + +"We never have people to dinner now," said I, "but we have shoals to +lunch." + +"It is all deplorably illogical," said the Reverend Henry. "But so long +as one has a sense of decency it seems impossible to scorch about in a +motor bulging with golf clubs." + +"Quite impossible. I propose that we get Mrs. Henry to make us some +sandwiches and go for a long walk." + +It was at this juncture that the morning papers came in with the news +of the battle cruiser victory in the North Sea.... We had a fine run +across the moor in the big car, an excellent lunch at "The George," and +managed to get in two rounds before it was dark. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OUR SPECIAL VOLUNTEER RESERVES. + +_Instructor._ "CHANGE ARMS BY NUMBERS. ONE--TWO----COME ALONG, SIR! +WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT NOW? KEEP YOUR BANJO SOLO FOR THE DOMESTIC +HEARTH."] + + * * * * * + +ON THE SPY TRAIL. + +II. + +People don't always know that Jimmy's dog is a bloodhound. One man +said it was a Great Scott--at least that is what he said when he saw +it. You see, when it is pensive, it sometimes looks like a spaniel and +sometimes like an Airedale--or it would if it hadn't got smooth hair +and a bushy tail which curls. Jimmy was undecided for a long time what +to call it. + +The milkman said Jimmy ought to call it "For instance," and then people +would know what it was for. The milkman thought of a lot more names +before a week was over, for Jimmy's bloodhound tracked down a can of +his milk and lapped it up. It is a very good lapper. It lapped so hard +that Jimmy had to pull the can off its head. Jimmy said it was the +suction and that all good bloodhounds were like that. + +A man stopped Jimmy in the street and asked him if that was the dog +that tracked down the German spy to his lair. Jimmy said it was, and +the man was very pleased: he patted the bloodhound on the head and +said, "Good old Faithful!"--just like that. + +Jimmy showed him the pork-butcher's shop where he did it, and the +man said if Jimmy would wait a minute he would go and buy the dog +some German fruit. Jimmy said the man bought a large kind of sausage +which had a red husk. He then stooped down and said, "Good old chap, +I confer upon you the Order of the Faithful Sausage, 1st class, and +if you catch another German spy I'll give you a season ticket." When +Jimmy's bloodhound saw the red sausage he began to bay, and he hurled +himself upon it with much vigour, Jimmy says. The man watched Jimmy's +bloodhound working, and he said, "_Magna est fidelitas et prevalebit_," +which he said meant that "Old Faithful would down the Germans every +time." + +Jimmy calls his bloodhound Faithful now, and he is keener than ever on +catching another German spy. + +Jimmy says he thought he was on the track of one the other day. He +was walking down a road when suddenly Faithful began straining at the +leash, as if he scented one. But it wasn't a German after all; it was a +goat. It was in a field. Jimmy said he made sure it was a German until +he saw it. + +The goat was having its tea on the far side of the field. Jimmy hadn't +seen the goat before, so he loosed Faithful at it. Faithful bounded +towards the goat very hard at first, and then stopped and began to +deploy. + +Jimmy said the goat was very surprised when it saw Faithful and jumped +three feet into the air all at once. Jimmy says Faithful makes things +do like that. You see Faithful was crawling hand over hand towards it +on the grass, and the goat looked as if it expected Faithful to go off +suddenly. + +Then the goat said "Yes! Yes!" several times with its head and began to +moo. + +Jimmy said the goat must have been winding up the starting handle, for +it suddenly slipped in the clutch and got into top gear in five yards. +It was a flexible goat, Jimmy says. Faithful is a good runner; it has a +kind of side-stroke action when it runs fast, and this puzzled the goat +and made it skid a bit on the grass. + +Jimmy sat on the gate and watched them. After five times round the +field the goat sat down and looked nonplussed. + +Jimmy knows all about goats; he knows what to do with them, and he +showed me. He got it so tame that it would feed out of your hand. It +ate half a newspaper one day and it made it very fiery. Jimmy said it +was the War news. We were trying to harness it to a perambulator Jimmy +had borrowed. Jimmy said it had to have a bell on its neck so that +people would know it was coming, just like the Alps. + +Jimmy said goats could jump from one Alp to the other, and they always +did that in Switzerland and it sounded very pretty in the evening. + +I hadn't got a little bell that tinkled so I brought the dinner bell, +and we tied it on to the goat's neck with a rope. Jimmy said it would +make the goat feel glad. + +It took us a long time to harness the goat properly because it was +so fidgety. There wasn't much room in the cart, but we both managed +to squeeze in, and Faithful ran on in front. The goat doesn't like +Faithful; it has an aversion to him when he bays. Faithful knew the +goat was coming after him because he could hear the bell. + +There was more room for Jimmy when I fell out, but Faithful kept +straight in the middle of the road doing the side-stroke as hard as he +could with both hands. I could hear the bell. Jimmy said a horse and +trap climbed over the hedge to let them pass. The man in the trap said +something to Jimmy, but Jimmy couldn't catch what he said; it was such +a long sentence. Jimmy said they went into an ironmonger's shop, all +of them. Faithful got there first. He deployed amongst some buckets +which were outside the shop. So did the goat. The noise disturbed the +ironmonger. He took his wife and children into the cellar. Jimmy said +it was the noise that did it, and the goat's face. + +The ironmonger's wife told Jimmy she had had a shock; she spoke to him +out of the cellar window. Jimmy says she had a catch in her breath. + +The goat didn't go back to the field very quickly; it was because one +of the wheels was bent and the goat seemed to have caught a hiccough. +That was because it ran so fast after eating the newspaper, Jimmy says. +He says all goats are like that. + +The goat won't eat out of Jimmy's hand now; whenever it sees Jimmy it +tries to climb a tree. A boy told Jimmy that the man who owns the goat +is concerned about it, so Jimmy goes hunting German spies with Faithful +down another road now. + + * * * * * + +The Two Bluechers. + + A century since, joy filled our cup + To hear of BLUECHER "coming up"; + To-day joy echoes round the town + To hear of _Bluecher_ going down. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: IN ORDER THAT NO POSSIBLE MEANS OF INJURING ENGLAND +MAY BE NEGLECTED, IT IS UNDERSTOOD THAT THE GERMAN PROFESSORS OF +NECROMANCY AND WITCHCRAFT HAVE BEEN REQUESTED TO MAKE THE BEST USE OF +THEIR MAGICAL POWERS.] + + * * * * * + +ZEPPELIN DRILL. + +I had often seen the little lady at No. 4, but it is only lately that I +have discovered that there is in her the makings of a General. + +We found out about her strategic dispositions in a roundabout way. Her +maid told the milkman, and in the course of nature the news came to us. +Every night her maid carries into her room a fur coat, a large pair of +boots and a coal-scuttle. + +It is, of course, her preparation to meet a Zeppelin attack. + +Everybody is getting ready. Bulpitt's wife's mother, for +example--Bulpitt is my next-door neighbour--is making him dig a +bomb-proof hole in the garden. Bulpitt thought there might be some +difficulty about getting her into it. I pointed out that there would be +more difficulty in getting her out--the hole is very deep. He said he +didn't worry about that. + +Two nights later we had a scare. Every light went out along the +road and people were doing all kinds of safe things. It turned out +afterwards that Stewart was testing his family Zeppelin drill, and +fired three shots to make it realistic. His wife then put the baby +in the copper with the lid one inch open. She herself stood beside a +certain wall which, according to Stewart, could not be knocked down +because of the stresses and strains that would be set up. + +That was all very well for him; the only thing that went wrong was +that a little water had been left in the copper. But what about poor +Johnson, who had to pile all the mattresses in the coal-cellar? He was +awfully black and angry when he found out. + +And what about Carruthers, who emptied a fire-pail on the drawing-room +fire, and had to explain a long muddy pool to his wife, who is rather +deaf and hadn't heard the shots? + +As for Bulpitt's wife's mother, she was in the pit for over an hour +before we hauled her out. The first time we got her to the surface +she gasped out, quite smilingly, "Now I know what it's like in the +tren----" and then she slipped back with an oozy thud. The second time +she said, "I don't think they'll come ag----" The third time she said, +"I don't care if the Zeppel----" And when we did get her out she said +nothing at all, and I was sorry for Bulpitt. + +Amidst all these scenes of confusion little Miss Agatha at No. 4 stood +at attention in a fur overcoat and a big pair of boots that would +easily slip on, with a coal-scuttle on her head to keep off bombs. She +stood there warm, safe, and respectably clad, waiting till the house +crashed about her and the time came to save herself. + +I hate to think of the Zeppelins coming; but if they do come I +hope--how I hope!--I shall be near No. 4 to see the indomitable little +lady emerge. + + * * * * * + +TEMPORA MUTANTUR. + + In WALPOLE'S time, not over nice, + Each man was said to have his price; + We've changed since then; + For, if my daughter's word is fact, + The world to-day is simply packed + With "priceless" men. + + * * * * * + +Journalistic Candour. + + "When a court-martial was opened for the trial of two sergeants at + Woolwich yesterday one of the officers questioned the right of a + reporter to be present.... The reporter was told to leave, which he + did, after protesting that an official shorthand note was an entirely + different thing from a newspaper report."--_Daily Chronicle._ + + * * * * * + +A LETTER TO THE FRONT. + +Mrs. Jeremy looked up from her knitting. "I want you to do something +for me," she said to her husband. + +"Anything except sing," said Jeremy lazily. + +"It's just to write a letter." + +"My dear, of course. _The Complete Letter-writer_, by J. P. Smith. +Chapter V--'Stiff Notes to Landlords'--shows Mr. Smith at his best. +'Gossipy Budgets, and should they be crossed?'--see Chapter VI. Bless +you, I can write to _anybody._" + +"This is to a man you've never met. He's a private at the Front and his +name is Mackinnon." + +"'Dear Mr. Mackinnon'--that's how I should begin. Do we want to say +anything particular, or are we just trying the new notepaper?" + +Mrs. Jeremy put down her work and gave herself up to explanation. +Private Mackinnon was in a school friend's husband's regiment, and he +never got any letters or parcels from anybody, and the friend's husband +had asked his wife to ask her friends---- + +"Wait a bit," said Jeremy. "We shall want the College of Heralds in +this directly." He took out his pencil and drew up a pedigree:-- + + School. + | + +-------+------+ + | | + J.P.S.=Mrs. J. Friend=Officer. + | + Regiment. + | + +-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+ + | | | | | | | | | + Mackinnon. + +"There you are. Now _you_ think it's J. P. S.'s turn to write to +Mackinnon." He drew a line from one to the other. "Very well; I shall +tell him about the old school." + +"You do see, don't you?" said Mrs. Jeremy. "All the others get letters +and things from their friends, and poor Mr. Mackinnon gets nothing. +Katharine wants to get up a surprise for him, and she's asking +half-a-dozen of her friends to send him things and write him jolly +letters." She picked up the muffler she had been knitting. "This is for +him, and I said you'd do the letter. You write such jolly ones." + +Jeremy threw away the end of his cigar and got up. + +"Yes, but what about?" he said, running his hand through his hair. +"This is going to be very difficult." + +"Oh, just one of your nice funny letters like you write to me." + +"Quite like that?" said Jeremy earnestly. + +"Well, not quite like that," smiled Mrs. Jeremy; "but you know what I +mean. He'd love it." + +"Very well," said Jeremy, "we'll see what we can do." + +He withdrew to his library and got to work. + +"_My dear Mr. Mackinnon_," he wrote, "_the weather here is perfectly +beastly_." + +He looked at it thoughtfully and then put it on one side. "We won't +destroy it," he said to himself, "because we may have to come back to +it, but at present we don't like it." + +He began another sheet of paper. + +"_My dear Mackinnon, who do you think it is? Your old friend Jeremy +Smith!_" + +He murmured it to himself three or four times, crossed out "old" and +put "new," and then placed this sheet on the top of the other. + +"_My dear Mackinnon, yesterday the Vicar_----" + +"I knew it would be difficult," he said, and took a fourth sheet. +Absently he began to jot down a few possible openings:-- + +"_I am a Special Constable ..._" + +"_Have you read Mrs. Humphry Ward's latest ..._" + +"_I hope the War won't last long ..._" + +"Yes," he said, "but we're not being really funny enough." + +He collected his letters as far as they had gone and took them to his +wife. + +"You see what will happen, darling," he said. "Mr. Mackinnon will read +them, and he will say to himself, 'There's a man called Jeremy P. Smith +who is a fool.' The news will travel down the line. They will tell +themselves in Alsace that J. P. Smith, the Treasurer of the Little +Blessington Cricket Club, is lacking in grey matter. The story will get +across to the Germans in some garbled form; 'Smith off crumpet,' or +something of that sort. It will reach the Grand Duke NICHOLAS; +it will traverse the neutral countries; everywhere the word will be +spread that your husband is, as they say, barmy. I ask you, dear--is it +fair to Baby?" + +Mrs. Jeremy crumpled up the sheets and threw them in the fire. + +"Oh, Jeremy," she said, "you could do it so easily if you wanted to. If +you only said, 'Thank you for being so brave,' it would be something." + +"But you said it had to be a 'jolly' one." + +"Yes, that was silly of me. I didn't mean that. Just write what you +want to write--never mind about what I said." + +"Oh, but that's easy," said Jeremy with great relief; "I can do that on +my head." + +And this was the letter (whether he wrote it on his head or not I +cannot say):-- + +"MY DEAR MR. MACKINNON,--You are not married, I believe, but +perhaps you will be some day when the War is over. You will then get +to know of a very maddening trick which wives have. You hand them a +letter over the coffee-pot beginning, 'Dear Smith, I saw a little +water-colour of yours in the Academy and admired it very much. The +what-do-you-call-it is so well done, and I like that broad effect. +Please accept an earldom,'--but, before they read any of it at all, +they turn to the signature at the end and say, 'Why, Jeremy, it's from +the KING!' And then all your beautiful surprise is gone. + +"Now I don't mention this in order to put you off marriage, because +there is a lot more in it than letters over the coffee-pot, and all the +rest is delightful. But I want to tell you that, if (as I expect) you +are keeping the signature of this letter for the surprise, you will be +disappointed. I am sorry about it. I tried various signatures with a +surprise to them (you would have liked my 'Hall Caine,' I think), but I +decided that I had best stick to the one I have used for so many years, +'J. P. Smith.' It will make you ask that always depressing question, +'Who is J. P. Smith?' but this I cannot help. Besides, I want to tell +you who he is. + +"An hour ago he was sitting in front of a fire of logs, smoking a +cigar. He had just finished dinner, so good a dinner that he was +congratulating his wife on it as she sat knitting on the other side of +the fire. If he had a complaint to make at all, it was perhaps that the +fire was a little too hot; perhaps when he went upstairs he would find +that a little too hot also was the bottle in his bed. One has these +hardships to face. To complete the picture, I ask you to imagine a door +closed rather noisily kitchenwards, and an exclamation of annoyance +from Mr. Smith. He passes it off by explaining that he was thinking of +the baby rather than of himself. + +"Well, there you have this J. P. Smith person ... and at the same hour +what was this man Mackinnon doing? I don't know; you do. But perhaps +you will understand now why I want to say 'Thank you.' I know what you +will answer: 'Good Lord, I'm only doing my job, I don't want to be +_kissed_ for it.' My dear Mackinnon, you don't understand. I am not +very kindly writing to you; you are very kindly letting me write. This +is _my_ birthday, not yours. I give myself the pleasure of thanking +you; as a gentleman you cannot refuse it to me. + +"Yours gratefully, J. P. SMITH." + +"You dear," said Mrs. Jeremy. "He'll simply love it." + +Jeremy grunted. + +"If I were Mackinnon," he said, "I should prefer the muffler." + + A.A.M. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE "KULTUR" CUT. + +THERE IS A STRONG PATRIOTIC MOVEMENT IN GERMANY TOWARDS A NATIONAL +IDEAL IN TAILORINGS.] + + * * * * * + +BEASTS AND SUPERBEASTS. + + [_A German zoologist has discovered in German New Guinea a new kind + of opossum to which he proposes to give the name of_ Dactylopsila + Hindenburgi.] + + At the Annual Convention of the Fishes, Birds and Beasts, + Which opened with the usual invigorating feasts, + The attention of the delegates of feather, fur and fin + Was focussed on a wonderful proposal from Berlin. + + The document suggested that, to signalise the feats + Of the noble German armies and the splendid German fleets, + Certain highly honoured species, in virtue of their claims, + Should be privileged in future to adopt Germanic names. + + To judge by the resultant din, the screams and roars and cries, + The birds were most ungrateful and the quadrupeds likewise; + And the violence with which they "voiced" their angry discontent + Was worthy of a thoroughbred Hungarian Parliament. + + The centipede declared he'd sooner lose a dozen legs + Than wear a patronymic defiled by human dregs; + And sentiments identical, in voices hoarse with woe, + Were emitted by the polecat and by the carrion crow. + + The rattlesnake predicted that his rattle would be cracked + Before the name _Bernhardii_ on to his tail was tacked; + And an elderly hyaena, famed for gluttony and greed, + Denounced the suffix _Klucki_ as an insult to its breed. + + Most impressive and pathetic was the anguish of the toad + When he found the name _Lissaueri_ had on him been bestowed; + And a fine man-eating tiger said he'd sooner feed with SHAW + Than allow the title _Treitschkei_ to desecrate his jaw. + + But this memorable meeting was not destined to disperse + Without a tragedy too great for humble human verse; + For, on hearing that _Wilhelmi_ had to his name been tied, + The skunk, in desperation, committed suicide. + + * * * * * + +Count REVENTLOW in the _Deutsche Tageszeitung_:-- + + "It is an established fact that when our airships were, in order + to fly to the fortified place of Great Yarmouth, merely flying + over other places or cities, they were shot at from these places. + It may be assumed with certainty that these shots, which were + aimed at the airships from below, hit them, and probably they + wounded or even killed occupants of the airships. This involves an + English franc-tireur attack, ruthlessly carried out in defiance of + International Law and in the darkness of the night, upon the German + airships, which, without the smallest hostile action, wanted to fly + away over these places.... + + The airship is a recognised weapon of war, and yet people in England + seem to demand that it shall regard itself as fair game for the + murders performed by a fanatical civil population, and shall not have + the right to defend itself." + +By the offer of a princely salary, _Mr. Punch_ has tried to tempt Count +REVENTLOW to join the staff in Bouverie Street. In vain. As +the chief humorist of Central Europe he feels that his services are +indispensable to the Fatherland. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "OH, MOTHER! HOW I WISH I WAS AN ANGEL!" + +"DARLING! WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT?" + +"OH, BECAUSE THEN, MOTHER, I COULD DROP BOMBS ON THE GERMANS."] + + * * * * * + +OVERWORK. + +The poets having indicated that they were going to take a few moments +off, the words were free to stand at ease also. They did so with a +great sigh of relief, especially one whom I recognised by his intense +weariness and also by the martial glow on his features, his muddied and +torn clothes and the bandage round his head. + +"You're 'war,'" I said, crossing over to speak to him. + +"Yes," he replied, "I'm 'war,' and I'm very tired." + +"They're sweating you?" I asked. + +"Horribly," he replied. "In whatever they're writing about just now, +both poets and song-writers, they drag me in, and they will end lines +with me. Just to occur somewhere and be done with I shouldn't so much +mind; but they feel in honour bound to provide me with a rhyme. Still," +he added meditatively, "there are compensations." + +"How?" I asked. + +"Well," he said, "I find myself with more congenial companions than I +used to have. In the old days, when I wasn't sung at all, but was used +more or less academically, I often found myself arm-in-arm with 'star' +or 'far' or 'scar,' and I never really got on with them. We didn't +agree. There was something wrong. But now I get better associates; +'roar,' for example, is a certainty in one verse. In fact I don't mind +admitting I'm rather tired of 'roar,' true friends as we are. + +"But I can see the poor young poetical fellows' difficulty; and, after +all, I do roar, don't I? Just as my old friend 'battle' here"--I bowed +to his companion--"is attached to 'rattle.' + +"Of course," he went on, "I'm luckier than 'battle' really, because +I do get a few other fellows to walk with, such as 'corps'--very +often--and 'before' and--far too often--'gore'; but 'battle' is tied up +to 'rattle' for the rest of his life. They're inseparable--'battle' and +'rattle.' Directly you see one you know that the other is only a few +words away. We call them the Siamese Twins." + +I laughed sympathetically. + +"There's 'cattle,'" I said, remembering 'The War-song of Dinas Vawr.' + +"No use just now," said 'war.' "'Rattle' is the only rhyme at the +moment; just as General FRENCH has his favourite one, and +that's 'trench.' If 'battle' and 'rattle' are like the Siamese Twins, +'FRENCH' and 'trench' are like Castor and Pollux. Now and +then the COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF makes the enemy 'blench,' but for +one 'blench' you get a thousand 'trenches.' No, I feel very sorry, I +can tell you, for some of these words condemned to such a monotony of +conjunction; and really I oughtn't to complain. And to have got rid of +'star' is something." + +I shook him by the hand. + +"But there's one thing," he added, "I do object to, which not even +poor old 'battle' has to bear, and that's being forced to march with a +rhyme that isn't all there. I have to do that far too often; and it's +annoying." + +I asked him to explain. + +"Well," he said, "those poets who look forward are too fond of linking +me to 'o'er'--'when it's 'o'er,' don't you know (they mean 'over'). +That's a little humiliating, I always think. You wouldn't like +constantly going about with a man who'd lost his collar, would you?" + +I said that I shouldn't. + +"Well, it's like that," he said, "I am not sure that I would not prefer +'star' to that, or 'scar,' after all. They, at any rate, meant well and +were gentlemanly. But 'o'er'? No. + + * * * * * + +The new book for schools: "Kaiser: De Bello Jellicoe." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WHO FORBIDS THE BANDS? + +["A band revives memories, it quickens association, it opens and unites +the hearts of men more surely than any other appeal can, and in this +respect it aids recruiting perhaps more than any other agency."--_Mr. +RUDYARD KIPLING at the Mansion House meeting promoted by the +Recruiting Bands Committee._]] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Recruit_ (_speaking of his late employer_). "AN' 'E +SAYS TO ME, 'IT WANTS A COAL-HAMMER TO KNOCK IT INTO YOUR 'EAD.'" + +_Friend._ "DID 'E SAY THAT?" + +_Recruit._ "YES, 'E DID. BUT I LET 'IM 'AVE IT BACK. I SAYS, 'IT +'UD BLOOMING WELL TAKE MORE THAN YOU TO DO IT!'"] + + * * * * * + +THE AMATEUR POLICEMAN. + + Friend Robert, if mere imitation + Expresses one's deepest regard, + How oft has such dumb adoration + Been shown on his beat by your bard; + In dress, though the semblance seems hollow, + How oft since my duties began + Have I striven, poor "special," to follow + The modes of the Man. + + I have aped till my muscles grew rigid + Your air of Olympian calm; + Have sought, when my framework was frigid, + To "stand" it _sans_ quiver or qualm; + I have also endeavoured to copy + The stealthiest thud of your boot; + And, with features as pink as a poppy, + Your solemn salute. + + In vain. Every effort is futile, + And, while I am "doing my share" + To guard (after midnight) a mute isle, + Or the bit of it close by my lair, + 'Tis perfectly plain that, although it + Is easy to offer one's aid, + The P.C., alas! like the poet, + Is born and not made. + + * * * * * + +THE UNLIKELY DUKE. + +The proposal, made the other day at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank +at Birmingham, that a dukedom should be conferred upon Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE, in recognition of his skilful handling of the financial +crisis, has aroused intense interest both in Park Lane and in the Welsh +valleys. + +Even among certain of the right honourable gentleman's colleagues in +the Cabinet the idea meets with warm approval. + +There has not yet been a meeting of Dukes to consider how to deal with +any situation that may arise; but there is little doubt that their +Graces are keeping a keen look-out, and it may be expected that when +the time comes their plans will be found to be more or less complete. + +Down in Wales there is considerable rivalry already concerning the +title the CHANCELLOR should take. A strong local committee +is being formed at Criccieth to urge the claims of that delightful +resort; but it may expect to receive strenuous opposition from the +people of Llanpwllwynbrynogrhos, who argue that, while Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE'S connection with their village may be slight, it would be +highly desirable that there should exist the obstacle of such a name +whenever the new Duke's fellow Dukes wished to refer to him. + +Since it was at the annual meeting of Lloyds Bank that the idea was put +forward, we are inclined to think that whenever a title is required the +CHANCELLOR might select the "Duke of Lloyds;" and on the other +hand, of course, a bank professing such admiration for Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE could not pay a prettier compliment than by styling itself +"LLOYD GEORGE'S Bank." + +We profoundly hope that there may be no truth in the ugly rumour that +one of the CHANCELLOR'S servants, who has been in the family +for many years and imbibed its principles, has declared emphatically +that it would be against her principles to serve in a ducal household. + +Needless to say there has been a flutter among estate agents. Already +vast tracts of deer-forest in Scotland have been offered at astonishing +terms to the proposed Duke, and these not only comprise some of the +finest scenery in the British Isles, but afford opportunity for +thoroughly interesting agricultural development. + +Mr. LLOYD GEORGE'S own views on the whole subject were uttered +in Welsh, and we have no doubt our readers will quite understand that +they cannot be printed here. + + * * * * * + +Our Dumb Friends. + +The tradition of strong language established by our armies in Flanders +seems to be well kept up to-day, if we may judge by the following Army +Order issued at the Front:-- + + "Though on occasion it is necessary to tie horses to trees, this + should be avoided whenever possible, as they are sure to bark and thus + destroy the trees." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Patriotic Old Person_ (_to individual bespattered by +passing motor-bus_). "THERE, YOUNG FELLER! IT'D NEVER 'AVE BIN +NOTICED IF YOU'D BIN IN KHAKI!"] + + * * * * * + +A TERRITORIAL IN INDIA. + +III. + +My dear _Mr. Punch_,--Although, being no longer a soldier in anything +but name (and pay), I pursue in India the inglorious vocation of a +clerk, I am nevertheless still in a position to perceive the splendid +qualities of the British Officer. Always a humble admirer of his skill +and bravery in the field, I have now in addition a keen appreciation of +his imperturbable _sangfroid_ when confronted with conditions of great +difficulty in the office. + +I am working in the Banana (to circumvent the Censor I am giving it an +obviously fictitious name) Divisional Area Headquarters Staff Office, +which is situated in the town of ----. Suppose we call it Mango. There +are four brigades in the Banana Divisional Area, one of which is the +Mango Brigade. Now it so happens that the General Officer Commanding +the Banana Divisional Area is at present also the General Officer +Commanding the Mango Brigade; consequently this is the sort of thing +which is always happening. The G.O.C. of the Mango Brigade writes to +himself as G.O.C. of the Banana Divisional Area: "May I request the +favour of a reply to my Memorandum No. 25731/24/Mobn., dated the 3rd +January, 1915, relating to paragraph 5 of Army Department letter No. +S.M.--43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, which amplifies +the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. XXIII.?" +Next morning he goes into the Divisional Office and finds himself +confronted by this letter. A mere civilian might be tempted to take a +mean advantage of his unusual situation. Not so the British Officer. +The dignified traditions of the Indian Army must not lightly be set +aside. The G.O.C. of the Brigade and the G.O.C. of the Divisional Area +must be as strangers for the purposes of official correspondence. + +So he writes back to himself:--"Your reference to Army Department +letter No. S.M.--43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, +is not understood. May I presume that you allude to Army Department +letter No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914, which +deals with the Annexure to Clause 271, Section 18 (c), of A.R.I., Vol. +XXIII.?" + +Later on he goes to the Brigade Office and writes--"... I would +respectfully point out that Army Department letter No. S.M.--43822/19 +(A.B.C.), dated the 12th December, 1914, cancels Army Department letter +No. P.T. 58401/364 (P.O.P.), dated the 5th November, 1914." + +At his next visit to the Divisional Office he writes back again:--"... +Army Department letter No. S.M.--43822/19 (A.B.C.), dated the 12th +December, 1914, does not appear to have been received in this office. +Will you be so good as to favour me with a copy?" + +So it goes on, and our dual G.O.C., like the gallant soldier he is, +never flinches from his duty, never swerves by a hair's-breadth from +his difficult course. This surely is the spirit which has made the +Empire. + +But I expect you are weary of this subject. Still, you must please not +forget that we are officially on active service, and active service +means perhaps more than you people at home imagine. Last Sunday, after +tiffin, I came upon one of my colleagues lounging in an easy-chair, one +of those with practical extensions upon which you can stretch your legs +luxuriously. With a cigarette between his lips and an iced drink beside +him, he sat reading a magazine--a striking illustration of the fine +resourcefulness of the Territorials in adapting themselves to novel +conditions. + +"What I object to about active service," he said, as I came up, "is the +awful hardship we have to put up with. When we were mobilised I didn't +anticipate that our path would be exactly strewn with roses, but I +confess I never expected this. I shall write to _The Times_. The public +ought to know about it;" and he settled himself more deeply into his +chair, blew out a cloud of smoke, and with a resolute expression sipped +his iced lemonade. + +_Mr. Punch_, you will be pained to hear that I have lost my hard-earned +reputation for sobriety through no fault of my own. A few days ago I +went up to the barracks to draw my regimental pay, and found that a +number of articles of clothing, issued by the Army authorities, had +accumulated for me during my absence--a pair of khaki shorts, a grey +flannel shirt with steel buttons the size of sixpences, a pair of +worsted socks and three sheets (yes, sheets for the bed; so luxuriously +do we fare in India). Perhaps you can guess what happened. + +"Oh, by the way, have you drawn your clothing?" asked the Lieutenant, +when he had paid me. + +"Yes, Sir," I replied. + +"What have you got?" + +"Sheets, shirt, shorts and shocks--shots, sheeks and shirks----" + +"That will do," he interrupted sternly. "You had better come to me +again when you are in a condition to express yourself clearly." + +Thus easily is a reputation acquired by years of self-control destroyed +by the pitfalls of our native tongue. + +On the other hand, some people have enviable reputations thrust upon +them. This is the case with my friend, Private Walls. The other night, +half of what remains of the Battalion were called out to repel an +expected attack on the barracks by the other half. Walls chanced to be +placed in a rather isolated position, and, armed with six rounds of +blank, he took cover behind a large boulder, after receiving whispered +orders from his officer not to fire if he suspected the approach of the +enemy, but to low like an ox, when assistance would immediately be sent +to him. + +Though a little diffident of his powers of lowing, Walls determined to +do his best, and fell sound asleep. + +Now, if you or I had been in his position, an officer would certainly +have discovered us in no time, and dire punishment would have +followed. But Walls slumbered on undisturbed, until a terrific roar in +his ear caused him to wake with a start. What had happened? He seized +his rifle and peered into the darkness. Then, to his amazement, he saw +the boulder before him rise to its feet and shamble off into the night. +It was an ox, and it had lowed! + +You might think his luck finished there. But no. The officer and his +men came stealthily up, and Walls unblushingly declared that he had +heard the foe approaching. It may sound incredible, but it is a fact +that a few minutes later the enemy did actually appear, and were, of +course, driven back after the customary decimation. + +And Walls unhesitatingly accepted the congratulations of his superior +on his vigilance, and did not even blench when assured that his was the +finest imitation ever heard of the lowing of an ox. + + Yours ever, + ONE OF THE _PUNCH_ BRIGADE. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Officer._ "DIDN'T I TELL YER 'E WAS NO GOOD? LOOK +AT 'IM--PLAYIN' FOOTBALL WHEN US FELLERS IS DRILLIN'!"] + + * * * * * + + "The German resistance is formidable but the allies' artillery has + forced the enemy to retire from some trenches abandinging prisoners, + dead, and wounded."--_Buenos Aires Standard._ + +This gives the lie to the many stories of German callousness that we +hear. + + * * * * * + +TURNS OF THE DAY. + + [_A fifteen-minutes' speech on affairs by a public man has been added + to the programme of the Empire music-hall._] + +There is no truth that the late Viceroy of IRELAND is to +appear at the Alhambra in a brief address, explaining why he chose the +title of "Tara." + +All efforts to induce Mr. MASTERMAN to appear at the Holborn +Empire next week in a burlesque of _The Seats of the Mighty_ have +failed. + +Great pressure is being brought to bear upon Mr. BERNARD SHAW +to induce him to add gaiety to the Palladium programme next week by a +twenty-minutes' exposure of England's folly, hypocrisy, fatuity and +crime, a subject on which he knows even more than is to be known. + +Up to the present moment Mr. H. G. WELLS has refused all +offers to appear at the Palace in the song from _Patience_, "When I +first put this uniform on." + +Any statement that Mr. EDMUND GOSSE is to appear at the +Coliseum at every performance next week, in a little sketch entitled +_Swinging the Censor_, is to be taken with salt. + +A similar incredulity should probably be adopted in regard to the +alluring rumour that Mr. COMPTON MACKENZIE will also contribute at +the same house a nightly telephonic sketch from Capri, "_What Tiberius +thinks of 'Sinister Street.'_" + +Negotiations are still pending, though with little chance of success, +between the management of the Hippodrome and Canon RAWNSLEY, +with a view to his giving a brief address nightly on the subject "How +to write a War sonnet in ten minutes." + +We have good reason to fear that, in spite of reiterated announcements +of their engagement, Mr. MAX PEMBERTON and Mr. MAX BEERBOHM will not +appear on Valentine's Day, and subsequently, at the Chiswick Empire +in a topical War duologue as "The Two Max." + + * * * * * + +Omar Khayyam on the North Sea battle. + + They say the _Lion_ and the _Tiger_ sweep + Where once the Huns shelled babies from the deep, + And _Bluecher_, that great cruiser--12-inch guns + Roar o'er his head but cannot break his sleep. + + * * * * * + +YUSSUF. + +"Look here," exclaimed the latest subaltern, hurling himself at the +remains of the breakfast, "those rotters have sent me a putrid sword!" + +"A putrid sword, dear?" his mother repeated. + +"Yes, confound them!" + +"I don't see why you want a sword at all," Dolly chipped in. "Captain +Jones says the big guns are the only weapons that count." + +"And how will Archie toast his crumpets?" retorted Henry. + +"Oh, shut up, you kids! I say, do you mind having a look at it?" The +latest subaltern was actually appealing to me. I stifled a blush, and +thought I should like to, very much. + +After breakfast Archibald and myself retired to the armoury. + +"There!" he exclaimed indignantly. "What do you think of that?" It was +lying on the bed with a black-and-gold hilt and a wonderful nickel +scabbard with gilt blobs at the top. I looked at it. + +"Well," I ventured, "it's a sword." + +Archibald sniffed. + +"And," I continued hastily, "it's very nice. Perhaps they've run out of +the ordinary ones. Does it cut?" + +He drew it, and I, assuming the air of a barber's assistant, felt its +edge. + +"Of course," I remarked, "I don't know much about it, but if there _is_ +anything left to cut when you go out I think it should be stropped a +bit first." + +"Well," said the proud owner, "I ordered it at Slashers', and they +ought to know. Suppose we rub it up on young Henry's emery wheel?" + +"Wait a minute," I cried; "I should like to see it on." + +Archibald buckled on the scabbard and I slapped the trusty blade home. + +It certainly looked a bit odd. I surveyed it in profile. + +"No!" I exclaimed, "there is something about it ... a Yussuf air ... +that little bend at the tip is reminiscent of Turkestan." + +We found Henry in the workshop. + +"My fairy godmother," he shouted, "did you pinch it from the pantomime?" + +We did not deign to reply. Gingerly, very gingerly, we applied Yussuf +to the emery wheel.... Little flakes came off him--just little flakes. + +It was very distressing. + +The gardener joined us and advised some oil; then the coachman brought +us some polishing sand; bath-brick and whitening we got from the cook. + +It was no good. Nothing could restore those little flakes. So we went +indoors to have a look at the Encyclopaedia. But there was nothing there +to help us. Yussuf was suffering from an absolutely unknown disease. + +We put him to bed again. + + * * * * * + +After lunch Archibald received the following letter:-- + +"DEAR SIR,--We learn with regret that, by an inadvertence, +the wrong sword has been despatched to you. We now hasten to forward +yours, trusting that the delay has not inconvenienced you. At the same +time our representative will, with your permission, collect the sword +now in your possession as it is of exceptional value, and also has to +be inscribed immediately for presentation. + + Your obedient Servants, + SLASHER AND CO." + +"For presentation," I repeated; "then it's not meant to cut with, and +those blobs really are gold." I touched one respectfully. + +The latest subaltern pulled himself together and rang the bell. +"When a man calls here for a sword," he told the servant, "give him +this"--pointing dramatically at Yussuf. "And Jenkins!" + +"Yes, Sir." + +"Tell him that I have just sailed for ... er--for the Front." + + * * * * * + +LE DERNIER CRI. + +BEING THE SOLILOQUY OF THE OLDEST PARROT. + +_Hallo! Hallo! Hallo! Polly-olly-wolly! Scratch a poll!_ It isn't that +I shout the loudest, though I fancy I _could_ keep my end up in the +monkey-house if it came to that. Many a parrot wastes all his energy +in wind. It's brains, not lungs, that make a full crop. Extend your +vocabulary. Another thing--don't make yourself too cheap. The parrot +that always gives his show free lives the whole of his life on official +rations--and nothing else. _Half-a-pint o' mild-an'-bitter! Pom! Pom!_ + +I'm the oldest inhabitant, and I've the biggest waist measurement for +my height in Regent's Park. That's my reward. I'll admit I've a bad +memory; most parrots have, except the one that used to sing "Rule +Britannia" and knew the name of every keeper in the Zoo--and _he_ went +into hospital with something-on-the-brain. But _I_'ve moved with the +times. There aren't many catch-phrases I haven't caught. "Walker," +"Who's Griffiths?" and drawing corks in the old "Champagne Charlie" +days; and "You're another," "Get your hair cut," "Does your mother know +you're out?" "My word, if I catch you bending!" "After you with the +cruet." But I've a bad memory. _Have a banana? I don't think!..._ + +I'm never quite sure of myself, and so just have to say what comes +uppermost. _Shun! Stanterteeze! Form-forz, you two! Half-a-pint o'...._ + +I've found it doesn't do to repeat _everything_ the sergeant says. +We had a Naval parrot once.... Why, take for instance that young man +with his greasy feathers brushed back like a parrakeet's. He looked +good for a few grapes any day, but when, just to encourage him, I +chortled, "KITCHENER wants yer!" he frowned and walked away. I +did good business later, though. Pulled up a bunch of Khaki people by +just shouting "'Alt!" I admired their taste in oranges. _Down with the +KAISER!_ By the way, I've shouted "Down with" almost everybody +in my time. _Johnny, get your gun; Goobye, Tipperlairlee._ + +But the best is "_Veeve la Fronce_." Last week one of those foreign +officers heard me "veeving" softly to myself. In half a minute he'd +collected a dozen of his friends and relatives, and I could see more +coming in the distance. The excitement! My tail! "Marie! Alphonse!" he +shouted. "_Regarday dong ce brave wozzo!_" They gave me butterscotch; +they gave me muscatels; they gave me a meringue, and lots of little +sweet biscuits (I don't take monkey-nuts these days, thank you!) and +they all talked at once. Then a lovely creature with a cockatoo's crest +on her head bent forward and coaxed me in a voice like ripe bananas. +And there was I sitting like a fool, my mouth crammed and my mind a +blank! The crowd was growing every minute. The cockatoo girl ran to the +kiosk and bought me French nougat; I ate it. Then I made a desperate +effort--"Has anybody here seen Kelly?" + +Bless the camel-keeper! At that very moment I heard him ringing the +"all-out" bell. + + * * * * * + +_The Times_ says that the _Bluecher_ was the reply of the German +Admiralty to the first British _Dreadnought_. + +Admiral Sir DAVID BEATTY begs to state that he has forwarded +this reply to the proper quarter. + + * * * * * + +We have pleasure in culling the following extract from the account of a +wedding, as set forth in _The Silver Leaf_ (published at Somerset West, +Cape Province):-- + + "Whilst the register was being signed, Mme. Wortley, of Cape Town, + sang 'Entreat me not to leave thee' with great feeling." + +It seems perhaps a little early to discuss the question of marital +separation. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: HOW TO KEEP FIT. FOR REALLY BUSY MEN. + +1. ON THE WAY TO THE STATION. + +2. WAITING FOR THE TRAIN. + +3. ON THE 'BUS--"WITH DEEP BREATHING--NECK WRISTS." + +4. AT THE OFFICE--THE CORRESPONDENCE. + +5. WEIGHING BUSINESS PROPOSITIONS. + +6. WAITING AT THE TELEPHONE.] + + * * * * * + +THE VOLUNTEERS. + + _Time_: 7.30 P.M. _Scene: A large disused barn, where forty + members of the local Volunteer Training Corps are assembled for + drill. They are mostly men well over thirty-eight years of age, but + there is a sprinkling of lads of under nineteen, while a few are men + of "military age" who for some good and sufficient reason have been + unable to join the army. They are all full of enthusiasm, but at + present they possess neither uniform nor arms. Please note that in the + following dialogue the Sergeant alone speaks aloud; the other person_ + thinks, _but gives no utterance to his words_. + + _The Sergeant._ Fall in! Fall in! Come smartly there, fall in + And recollect that when you've fallen in + You stand at ease, a ten-inch space between + Your feet--like this; your hands behind your back-- + Like this; your head and body both erect; + Your weight well poised on both feet, not on one. + Dress by the right, and let each rear rank man + Quick cover off his special front rank man. + That's it; that's good. Now when I say, "Squad, 'shun," + Let every left heel swiftly join the right + Without a shuffling or a scraping sound + And let the angle of your two feet be + Just forty-five, the while you smartly drop + Hands to your sides, the fingers lightly bent, + Thumbs to the front, but every careful thumb + Kept well behind your trouser-seams. Squad, 'shun! + + _The Volunteer._ Ha! Though I cannot find my trouser-seams, + I rather think I did that pretty well. + Thomas, my footman, who is on my left, + And Batts, the draper, drilling on my right, + And e'en the very Sergeant must have seen + The lithe precision of my rapid spring. + + _The Sergeant._ When next I call you to attention, note + You need not slap your hands against your thighs. + It is not right to slap your thighs at all. + + _The Volunteer._ He's looking at me; I am half afraid + I used unnecessary violence + And slapped my thighs unduly. It is bad + That Thomas should have cause to grin at me + And lose his proper feeling of respect, + Being a flighty fellow at the best; + And Batts the draper must not---- + + _The Sergeant._ Stand at ease! + + _The Volunteer._ Aha! He wants to catch me, but he---- + + _The Sergeant._ 'Shun! + + _The Volunteer._ Bravo, myself! I did not slap them then. + I am indubitably getting on. + I wonder if the Germans do these things, + And what they sound like in the German tongue. + The Germans are a---- + + _The Sergeant._ Sharply number off + From right to left, and do not jerk your heads. + + [_They number off._ + + _The Volunteer._ I'm six, an even number, and must do + The lion's share in forming fours. What luck + For Batts, who's five, and Thomas, who is seven. + They also serve, but only stand and wait, + While I behind the portly form of Batts + Insert myself and then slip out again + Clear to the front, observing at the word + The ordered sequence of my moving feet. + Come let me brace myself and dare---- + + _The Sergeant._ Form fours! + + _The Volunteer._ I cannot see the Sergeant; I'm obscured + Behind the acreage of Batts's back. + Indeed it is a very noble back + And would protect me if we charged in fours + Against the Germans, but I rather think + We charge two deep, and therefore---- + + _The Sergeant._ Form two deep! + + _The Volunteer._ Thank Heaven I'm there, although I mixed my feet! + I am oblivious of the little things + That mark the due observance of a drill; + And Thomas sees my faults and grins again. + Let him grin on; my time will come once more + At dinner, when he hands the Brussels sprouts. + + [_The drill proceeds._ + + Now we're in fours and marching like the wind. + This is more like it; this is what we need + To make us quit ourselves like regulars. + Left, right, left, right! The Sergeant gives it out + As if he meant it. Stepping out like this + We should breed terror in the German hordes + And drive them off. The Sergeant has a gleam + In either eye; I think he's proud of us. + Or does he meditate some stratagem + To spoil our marching? + + _The Sergeant._ On the left form squad! + + _The Volunteer._ There! He has done it! He has ruined us! + I'm lost past hope, and Thomas, too, is lost; + And in a press of lost and tangled men + The great broad back of Batts heaves miles away. + + [_The Sergeant explains and the drill proceeds._ + + _The Volunteer._ No matter; we shall some day learn it all, + The standing difference 'twixt our left and right, + The bayonet exercise, the musketry, + And all the things a soldier does with ease. + I must remember it's a long, long way + To Tipperary, but my heart's---- + + _The Sergeant._ Dismiss! + + R. C. L. + + * * * * * + +MARCH AIRS. + +AT long last the War Office is waking up to the value of bands for +military purposes, and a good deal of interest will be aroused by the +discussion now proceeding as to the best airs for use on the march. + +The following suggestions have been hastily collected by wireless and +other means:-- + +From the Trenches: "Why not try 'Come into the garden mud'?" + +From a very new Subaltern: "I had thought of 'John Brown's Body,' but +personally I am more concerned just now with Sam Browne's Belt." + +From a Zeppelin-driver: "There's an old Scotch song that I have tried +successfully on one of our naval lieutenants. It runs like this:-- + + O, I'll tak the high road and you'll tak' the low road, + An' I'll be in Yarmouth afore ye." + +From the Captain of the _Sydney_: "What's the matter with 'The Jolly +Mueller'?" + +From President WILSON: "Have you thought of 'The little rift +within the lute,' as played by our Contra-band?" + +From Admiral VON TIRPITZ: "A familiar air with me is 'Crocked +in the cradle of the deep.'" + +From Sir EDWARD GREY: "If it could be done diplomatically, I +should like to see recommended, 'Dacia, Dacia, give me your answer, +do.'" + +From the Crew of the _Lion_: "For England, Home, and Beatty." + +From an East Coast Mayor: "Begone, dull scare!" + +From the King of RUMANIA: "Now we shan't be long." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Old Farmer_ (_to village Military Critic_). +"STRATEEGY? DOD, MAN, YE HAVENA AS MUCKLE STRATEEGY AS WAD TAK' YE +ACROSS ARGYLE STREET UNLESS A POLISMAN HELPIT YE."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +_The German War Book_ (MURRAY) is a work in whose authenticity +many of us would have refused to believe this time last year. It is a +pity indeed that it was not then in the hands of all those who still +clung to the theory that the Prussian was a civilised and humane being. +However, now that everyone can read it, translated and with a wholly +admirable preface by Professor J. H. MORGAN, it is to be hoped +that the detestable little volume will have a wide publicity. True, it +can add little to our recent knowledge of the enemy of mankind; but it +is something to have his guiding principles set down upon the authority +of his own hand. Cynical is hardly an adequate epithet for them; +indeed I do not know that the word exists that could do full justice +to the compound of hypocrisy and calculated brutishness that makes up +this manual. It may at first strike the reader as surprising to find +himself confronted by sentiments almost, one might say, of moderation +and benevolence. He will ask with astonishment if the writer has not, +after all, been maligned. Before long, however, he will discover that +all this morality is very carefully made conditional, and that the +conditions are wide. In short, as the Preface puts it, the peculiar +logic of the book consists in "ostentatiously laying down unimpeachable +rules, and then quietly destroying them by debilitating exceptions." +For example, on the question of exposing the inhabitants of occupied +territory to the fire of their own troops--the now notorious Prussian +method of "women and children first"--the _War Book_, while admitting +pious distaste for such practice, blandly argues that its "main +justification" lies in its success. Thus, with sobs and tears, like +the walrus, the Great General Staff enumerates its suggested list of +serviceable infamies. At the day of reckoning what a witness will this +little book be! Out of their own mouths they stand here condemned +through all the ages. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. HUMPHRY WARD, chief of novelists-with-a-purpose, +vehemently eschews the detachment of the Art-for-Art's-Saker, while +a long and honourable practice has enabled her to make her stories +bear the burden of her theses much more comfortably than would seem +theoretically possible. _Delia Blanchflower_ (WARD, LOCK) +is a suffrage novel, dedicated with wholesome intent to the younger +generation, and if one compares the talented author's previous +record of uncompromising, and indeed rather truculent, anti-suffrage +utterances one may note (with approval or dismay) a considerable +broadening of view on the vexed question. For her attack here is +delivered exclusively on the militant position. Quite a number of +decent folk in her pages are suffragistically inclined, and there is +a general admission that the eager feet that throng the hill of the +Vote are not by any means uniformly shod in elastic-sided boots, if +one may speak a parable. It is a very notable admission and does the +writer honour; for such revisions are rare with veteran and committed +campaigners. The story is laid in the far-away era of the burnings of +cricket pavilions and the lesser country houses. _Delia_ is a beautiful +goddess-heiress of twenty-two, with eyes of flame and a will of steel, +a very agreeable and winning heroine. Her tutor, _Gertrude Marvell_, +the desperate villain of the piece, a brilliant fanatic (crossed in +love in early youth), wins the younger girl's affections and inspires +and accepts her dedication of self and fortune to the grim purposes of +the "Daughters of Revolt." _Mark Winnington_, her guardian, appointed +by her father to counteract the tutor's baleful influence, finds both +women a tough proposition. For _Gertrude_ has brains to back her +fanaticism, and _Delia_ is a spirited handful of a ward. Loyalty to her +consecration and to her friend outlast her belief in the methods of the +revolting ones. Her defences are finally ruined by Cupid, for _Mark_ is +a handsome athletic man of forty or so, a paragon of knightly courtesy +and persuasive speech and silences, and compares very favourably with +the policemen in Parliament Square. Poor _Gertrude_ makes a tragic +end in a fire of her own kindling, so that the moral for the younger +generation cannot be said to be set forth in ambiguous terms. + + * * * * * + +_Arundel_ (FISHER UNWIN) is one of those stories that begins +with a Prologue; and as this was only mildly interesting I began to +wonder whether I was going to be as richly entertained as one has by +now a right to expect from Mr. E. F. BENSON. But it appeared +that, like a cunning dramatist, he was only waiting till the audience +had settled into their seats; when this was done, up went the curtain +upon the play proper, and we were introduced to Arundel itself, an +abode of such unmixed and giddy joy that I have been chortling over the +memory of it ever since. Arundel was the house at Heathmoor where lived +_Mrs. Hancock_ and her daughter _Edith_; and _Mrs. Hancock_ herself, +and her house and her neighbourhood and her car and her servants and +her friends--all, in fact, that is hers, epitomize the Higher Suburbia +with a delicate and merciless satire that is beyond praise. I shall +hurry over the actual story, because that, though well and absorbingly +told, is of less value than the setting. Next door to the _Hancocks_ +lived a blameless young man called _Edward_, whom for many reasons, +not least because their croquet-lawns, so to speak, "marched," _Mrs. +Hancock_ had chosen as her daughter's husband. So blamelessly, almost +without emotion, these were betrothed, walking among the asparagus beds +on a suitable May afternoon "ventilated by a breath of south-west wind +and warmed by a summer sun," and the course of their placid affection +would have run smooth enough but for the sudden arrival, out of the +Prologue, of _Elizabeth_, fiercely alive and compelling, the ideal +of poor _Edward's_ dreams. Naturally, therefore, there is the devil +to pay. But, good as all this is, it is _Mrs. Hancock_ who makes the +book, first, last and all the time. She is a gem of purest ray serene, +and my words that would praise her are impotent things. Only unlimited +quotation could do justice to her sleek self-deception and little +comfortable meannesses. In short, as a contemporary portrait, the +mistress of Arundel seems to be the best thing that Mr. BENSON +has yet given us; worth--if he will allow me to say so--a whole +race of _Dodos_. For comparison one turns instinctively to JANE +AUSTEN; and I can sound no higher praise. + +Love never seems to run a smooth course for girls of the name of +_Joan_; their affairs of heart, whatever the final issue may be, have +complex beginnings and make difficult, at times dismal, progress. I +attribute the rejection of the great novel of my youth to the fact +that the heroine, a rosy-cheeked girl with no more serious problems in +life than the organisation of mixed hockey matches, was ineptly given +that unhappy name. Miss MARY AGNES HAMILTON'S _Joan Traquair_ +is true to the type. From the start she is handicapped by a bullying +father, an invalid sister, a lack of means and an excess of artistic +temperament, the last of these being not just a casual tendency to +picture galleries and the opera, but the kind of restless passion +which causes people to prefer sunsets to meals and to neglect their +dress. In due course she falls in love with a man called _Sebastian_, +another name which, if less familiar, is yet a sufficient warning to +the world that its owner is bound to be a nuisance on the hearth. This +_Sebastian_ was an artist, ambitious and of course poor; worse, he had +a touch of genius and--worst of all--he knew it. Nevertheless _Joan_ +became his wife, supposing that this was just the sort of man to make +her happy. Instead, he made her thoroughly miserable, at any rate for +a good long time; but I doubt if any reader, even with all the facts +before him, will anticipate exactly how he did it. I certainly didn't +myself, although I feel now that I ought to have done. The point of +_Yes_ (HEINEMANN) is both new and true; I recommend the book +with confidence to all interested in the Joans and Sebastians of this +world. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "NOT THOUGH THE SOLDIER KNEW SOMEONE HAD +BLUNDERED."] + + * * * * * + +Our Cheery Allies. + +A letter from a Japanese firm:-- + + "DEAR SIRS,--Since writing you last we have no favours to + acknowledge, however, we are pleased to enter into business relation + with your respectable firm. We were delighted that the Allies + always behaved bravely in the recent battle and now are in the very + favourable condition. Our army took the possetion of Tsingtau and our + only hope remaindered is to hear the annihiration of the enemy force. + We trust the Allies will beat the Enemy in near future though we + cannot assert the time. If there are any samples of Japanese goods as + substitute of German's, kindly let us know, and we shall send the same + as soon as possible." + + * * * * * + +ENCYCLOPAEDIA GERMANICA. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins from dark aerial heights + Pick out the peaceful places while people sleep o' nights. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins steer clear of fort and gun; + Such things of dreadful menace repel the flying Hun. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins show Science at the call + Of all the savage instincts that hold them tight in thrall. + + Their Aviatiks and Zeppelins--_our_ women lying dead-- + The whole of German "Kultur" is there from A to Z. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. +148, FEBRUARY 3, 1915*** + + +******* This file should be named 44654.txt or 44654.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/4/6/5/44654 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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