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diff --git a/10663-0.txt b/10663-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3725bec --- /dev/null +++ b/10663-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1756 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10663 *** + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 153. + +SEPTEMBER 26, 1917. + + + + + + + +CHARIVARIA. + +Three bandits have been executed in Mexico without a proper trial or +sentence. This, we understand, renders the executions null and void. + + *** + +The campaign against the cabbage butterfly in this country has reached +such an alarming stage that cautious butterflies are now going about +in couples. + + *** + +After spending a one-pound Treasury note on cakes, chocolates, fish +and chips, biscuits, apples, bananas, damsons, cigarettes, toffee, +five bottles of ginger "pop" and a tin of salmon, a Chatham boy told +a policeman that he was not feeling well. It was thought to be due to +something the boy had been eating. + + *** + +Incidentally the boy desires us to point out that the trouble was not +that he had too much to eat but that there was not quite enough boy to +go round. + + *** + +"I read all English books," says Dr. HARDING in _The New York Times_, +"because they are all equally good." This looks dangerously like a +studied slight to Mr. H.G. WELLS. + + *** + +We understand that, owing to the paper shortage, future exposures of +German intrigues will only be announced on alternate days. + + *** + +At the Kingston Red Cross Exhibition a potato was shown bearing +a remarkable likeness to the German CROWN PRINCE. By a curious +coincidence a report has recently been received that somewhere +in Germany they have a Crown Prince who bears an extraordinary +resemblance to a potato. + + *** + +Mystery still attaches to the authorship of _The Book of Artemas_, +but we have authority for saying that Lord SYDENHAM does not remember +having written it. + + *** + +At Neath Fair, the other day, a soldier just home from the Front +entered a lions' den. The lions bore up bravely. + + *** + +The question of body armour for the troops, it is stated, is still +under consideration by the authorities. This is not to be confused +with bully ARMOUR which has long been used to line the inside of the +troops. + + *** + +Mr. WALTER HOWARD O'BRIEN, of New York, has sent to Queen Alexandra's +Field Force Fund 1,719,000 cigarettes. Several British small boys have +decided to write and ask him if he has such a thing as a cigarette +picture to spare. + + *** + +Doctors in many parts of London are said to be raising their fees. +They should remember that there is such thing as curing the goose that +lays the golden eggs. + + *** + +The _Münchener Neueste Nachrichten_ accuses the United States of +having stolen the cipher key of the LUXBURG despatches. It is this +sort of thing that is gradually convincing Germany that it is beneath +her dignity to fight with a nation like America. + + *** + +A fine porpoise has been seen disporting itself in the Thames near +Hampton Court. It is just as well to know that such things can be seen +almost as well with Government ale as with the stronger brews. + + *** + +Another statue has been stolen from Berlin, but Londoners need not be +envious. Quite a lot of Americans will be in this country shortly, and +it is hoped that their well-known propensity for souvenir-collecting +may yet be diverted into useful channels. + + *** + +The Midland Dairy Farmers' Association have expressed themselves as +satisfied with the prices fixed for Winter milk. In other agricultural +quarters this action is regarded as a dangerous precedent, the view +being that no farmer should be satisfied about anything. + + *** + +"My hopes of fortune have been dispelled by unremunerative Government +contracts," said a contractor at the Liverpool Bankruptcy Court. It is +good to read for once of the Government getting the best of a bargain. + + *** + +"What is a bun?" asked the Willesden magistrate last week; which only +shows that with a little practice magistrates will get into the way of +doing these things almost as well as the High Court judges. + + *** + +The _Frankfurter Zeitung_ declares that "the Germany that President +Wilson wants to talk peace with will only be a Germany beaten to its +knees." Our own opinion is that it will be a Germany beaten to a +frazzle. + + *** + +There appears to be a great demand for small second-hand yachts. The +fact is connected, in well-informed circles, with the report that _The +Daily Mail_ contemplates taking up the anti-submarine question. + + *** + +Some solicitors have been helping to run the gas works of a certain +Corporation during a strike. While commending this action, we admit +that we can conceive of nothing more likely to undermine the resolute +patriotism of the man in the street than a gas bill furnished by +solicitor. + + *** + +Women are formally warned by the Ministry of Munitions against +using T.N.T. as a means of acquiring auburn hair. Any important +object striking the head--a chimney-pot or a bomb from an enemy +aeroplane--would be almost certain to cause an explosion, with +possible injury to the scalp. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "I'M COMING TO YOU WITH 'ARF A TON IN A MINUTE, SO +DON'T FRET YOURSELF, OLE PERISCOPE."] + + * * * * * + +GERMAN THOROUGHNESS AGAIN. + + "TO HOLD POTATO CROP. + + "NEW GERMAN FOOD DICTATOR WILL CONSUME ALL FOOD."--_Victoria Daily + Times_. + + * * * * * + + "An intelligent postal service has delivered those addressed to + 1,000, Upper Grosvenor Street, W. 1, to the Ministry of Good at + Grosvenor House."--_Daily Mail_. + +This is the first we have heard of this Ministry. + + * * * * * + +TO THE POTSDAM PACIFIST. + + Now for the fourth time since you broke your word, + And started hacking through, the seasons' cycle + Brings Autumn on; the goose, devoted bird, + Prepares her shrift against the mass of MICHAEL; + Earth takes the dead leaves' stain, + And Peace, that hardy annual, sprouts again. + + Yet why should _you_ support the Papal Chair + In fostering this recurrent apparition? + Never (we gather) were your hopes more fair, + Your _moral_ in a more superb condition; + Never did Victory's goal + Seem more adjacent to your sanguine soul. + + HINDENBURG holds your British foes in baulk + Prior to trampling them to pulp like vermin; + Russia is at your mercy--you can walk + Through her to-morrow if you so determine; + There is no France to fight-- + Your gallant WILLIE'S blade has "bled her white." + + In England (as exposed by trusty spies) + We are reduced to starve on dog and thistles; + London, with all her forts, in ashes lies; + Through Scarboro's breached redoubts the sea-wind whistles: + And Margate, quite unmanned, + Would cause no trouble if you cared to land. + + Roumania is your granary, whence you draw + For loyal turns a constant cornucopia; + Belgium, quiescent under Culture's law, + Serves as a type of Teutonised Utopia; + And, as for U.S.A., + They're scheduled to arrive behind The Day. + + Why, then, this talk of Peace? The victor's meed + Lies underneath your nose--why not continue? + _Because humanity makes your bosom bleed_; + So, though you have a giant's strength within you, + Your gentle heart would shrink + To use it like a giant--I don't think. + + O.S. + + * * * * * + +MISTAKEN CHARITY. + +Slip was riding a big chestnut mare down the street and humming an +accompaniment to the tune she was playing with her bit. He pulled up +when he saw me and, still humming, sat looking down at me. + +"Stables in ten minutes," I said. "You're heading the wrong way." + +"A dispensation, my lad," he replied. "I'm taking Miss Spangles up on +the hill to get her warm--'tis a nipping and an eager air." + +A man was coming across the road towards us. He was incredibly old and +stiff and the dirt of many weeks was upon him. He stood before us and +held out a battered yachting cap. "M'sieur," he said plaintively. + +Miss Spangles cocked an ear and began to derange the surface of the +road with a shapely foreleg. She was bored. + +"Tell him," said Slip, "that I am poorer even than he is; that this +beautiful horse which he admires so much is the property of the King +of ENGLAND, and that my clothes are not yet paid for." + +I passed this on. + +"M'sieur," said the old man, holding the yachting cap a little nearer. + +"Give him a piece of money to buy soap with," said Slip. "Come up, +Topsy," and he trotted slowly on. + +I gave the old man something for soap and went my way. + +That night at dinner the Mandril, who loves argument better than life, +said _à propos_ of nothing that any man who gave to a beggar was a +public menace and little better than a felon. He was delighted to find +every man's hand against him. + +"RUSKIN," said Slip, "decrees that not only should one give to +beggars, but that one should give kindly and deliberately and not +as though the coin were red-hot." + +The Mandril threw himself wildly into the argument. He told us +dreadful stories of beggars and their ways--of advertisements he +had seen in which the advertisers undertook to supply beggars with +emaciated children at so much per day. Children with visible sores +were in great demand, he said; nothing like a child to charm money +from the pockets of passers-by, etc., etc. Presently he grew tired +and changed the subject as rapidly as he had started it. + +It was at lunch a few days later that the Mess waiter came in with a +worried look on his face. + +"There is a man at the door, Sir," he said. "Me and Burler can't make +out what he wants, but he won't go away, not no'ow." + +"What's he like?" I asked. + +"Oh, he's old, Sir, and none too clean, and he's got a sack with him." + +"Stop," said Slip. "Now, Tailer, think carefully before you answer my +next question. Does he wear a yachting cap?" + +"Yes, Sir," said Tailer, "that's it, Sir, 'e do wear a sort of sea +'at, Sir." + +"This is very terrible," said Slip. "Are we his sole means of support? +However--" and he drew a clean plate towards him and put a franc on +it. The plate went slowly round the table and everyone subscribed. +Stephen, who was immersed in a book on Mayflies, put in ten francs +under the impression that he was subscribing towards the rent of the +Mess. The Mandril appeared to have quite forgotten his dislike of +beggars. + +Tailer took the plate out and returned with it empty. "He's gone, +Sir," he said. + +"I'm glad for your sake, dear Mandril, that you have fallen in with +our views," said Slip. + +"What!" shouted the Mandril. "I quite forgot. A beggar!--the wretched +impostor." He rushed to the window. An old man had rounded the corner +of the house and was crossing the road on his way to a small café +opposite. + +"He's going to drink it," screamed the Mandril; "battery will fire a +salvo;" and he seized two oranges from the sideboard. The first was +a perfect shot and hit the target between the shoulder-blades, and +the second burst with fearful force against the wall of the café. +The victim turned and looked about him in a dazed fashion and then +disappeared. + +That night I received a note from Monsieur Le Roux, hardware merchant +and incidentally our landlord, thanking me for sixteen francs +seventy-five centimes paid in advance to his workman, and asking me +to name a day on which he could call to mend our broken stove. + + * * * * * + + "It is not a little pathetic to observe that a year ago, and even + two years ago, _The Daily Mail_ was urging the Government then + in power to introduce compulsory rations. Thus on November 13, + 1916, we said: 'Ministers should at once prepare the organisation + for a system of bread tickets. It took the diligent Germans six + months to get their system into action, and it will take our ... + officials quite as long. They ought to be getting to work on it + now, not putting it off.'"--_Daily Mail_. + +We dare not guess what was the suppressed adjective that _The Daily +Mail_ applied to "our officials." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OUR UNEMPLOYED. + +WAR OFFICE BRASS HAT (_to Volunteer, "A" Class_). "AND MIND YOU, IF +YOU DON'T FULFIL YOUR OBLIGATIONS YOU'LL BE COURT-MARTIALLED!" + +MR. PUNCH. "THAT WON'T WORRY HIM. HIS TROUBLE IS THAT, WHEN HE DOES +FULFIL HIS OBLIGATIONS, YOU MAKE SO LITTLE USE OF HIM."] + + * * * * * + +SUGAR CONTROL. + +"Good evening, Sir," said Lord RHONDDA'S minion (the man who does +his dirty work), moistening his lips with a bit of pencil. "You were +allocated one hundredweight of sugar for jam-making in respect of your +soft fruit, I believe?" + +"How _did_ you guess?" I said. "I say, do tell me when the War's going +to end. Just between ourselves, you know." + +"This being the case," he went on (evidently trying to change the +subject--no War Office secrets to be got out of _him_, you notice), +"I must request you to show me your fruit-trees and also your jam +cupboard." + +"The latter," I said--for he had called just after tea--"is rather +full at present, but doing nicely, thanks. As you observe, however, we +think it wiser not to try to close the bottom button of the door." + +"Perhaps your wife--" suggested the man tentatively. + +"My wife does her best, of course. She often says, 'Dearest, a third +pot of tea if you _like_, but I'm sure a third cup of jam wouldn't be +good for you.' By the way, don't you want to see the tea-orchard too? +The Cox's Orange Pekoes have done frightfully well this year--the new +blend, you know; or should I say hybrid?" + +At this moment my wife appeared, looking particularly charming in a +_mousseline de soie aux fines herbes--anglicé_, a sprigged muslin. I +seized her hand and led her aside. + +"Lord RHONDDA'S myrmidon is upon us!" I hissed. "'Tis for your +husband's life, child. Hold the minion of the law in check--attract +him; fascinate him; play him that little thing on the piano--you +know, 'Tum-ti-tum'--while I slope off to the secret chamber, where my +ancestor lay hid before--I mean after--the Battle of Worcester. By the +way, I hope it's been dusted lately? Hush! if he sees us hold secret +parlance I'm lost." + +"Alas!" said my wife, "the secret chamber is where we keep the jam." + +She smiled subtly at me and then winningly at the inspector as she +turned towards him. + +"Step this way, please," she continued. + +I caught the idea at once and, blessing the quick wit of woman, +followed in the victim's wake, ready to close the secret panel behind +him and leave him to a lingering death. + +My wife slid open the trap, turning with a triumphant smile as she did +so, and I saw at once that the death of anyone shut up inside would be +a lot more lingering than I had imagined, for the place seemed full of +jam. I was surprised. + +"Can I be going to eat all that?" I thought; and life seemed suddenly +a very beautiful thing. + +The inspector ran a hungry eye over it all, and if he had tried to +clamber inside for a closer inspection I should not have given him the +quick push I had planned. I should have held him back by his coat. My +own way of testing the amount of jam which my wife had made was not +for the likes of him. + +"About a hundred-and-fifty pounds," he said at last. + +"Just a little over," nodded my wife. + +"I tell you," I whispered, "this chap knows everything." Then aloud, +"I say, Sir, if you wouldn't mind putting me on to something for the +Cotsall Selling Plate. Simply," I added hastily, "in the national +interest, of course. Keeping up the breed of horses." + +The inspector changed the subject again. "You were allocated one +hundredweight of sugar, I believe, Ma'am," he said. + +"Oh, yes," replied my wife. "But you see some of our jam is still +sticking to the trees. Perhaps this gentleman would like to see the +orchard, Wenceslaus," she added, turning to me. + +(Of course, you know, my Christian name isn't really Wenceslaus, but +we authors enjoy so little privacy nowadays that I must really be +allowed to leave it at that.) + +So I took the inspector off to see the orchard, pausing on the way at +the strawberry bed. + +"This," I explained, "was to have made up quite fifty pounds of our +allocation, but I'm afraid the crop failed this year. So that must +account for any little discrepancy in the weight of fruit." I was very +firm about this. + +"Strawberries have done well enough elsewhere," said Nemesis +suspiciously. "I'm surprised that yours should have failed." + +"When I say 'failed,'" I explained, "I mean 'failed to get as far as +the preserving pan.' I always retain an option on eating the crop +fresh." + +The inspector frowned and was going to make a note of this, so I tried +to distract his attention. + +"Do you know," I said, "a short time ago people persisted in mistaking +me for a brother of the Duke of Cotsall?" + +"Why?" he asked--rather rudely. + +"Because of the strawberry mark on my upper lip. Ah, I think this +is the orchard. There was a wealth of bloom here when I put in my +application." + +"Applications were not made till the fruit was on the trees," said +Lord RHONDDA'S minion, sharply. "Ah, there's a nice lot of plums." + +This seemed more satisfactory. + +"Yes, isn't there?" I said enthusiastically. "Now I'm sure _this_ +makes up the amount all right." + +"Plums are stone fruit," he observed stonily, "and you were allocated +one hundredweight of sugar for your _soft_ fruit, I believe?" + +One really gets very tired of people who go on harping on the same +thing over and over again. + +"What about raspberries?" I inquired. + +"Soft fruit, of course," said the inspector. + +"But they contain stones," I urged. "Nasty little things wot gits into +the 'ollers of your teeth somethink cruel, as cook says. Really, the +Government ought to give us more careful instructions. And what about +the apples? Are pips stones?" + +"Apples are not used for jam-making," he retorted. + +"What!" I exclaimed. "Tell that to the--to the Army in general! +Plum-and-apple jam, my dear Sir! And that reminds me: a jam composed +of half stone and half soft fruit--how do we stand in respect to +that?" + +"Well, Sir," said the inspector, closing his notebook grudgingly, "I +don't think we need go into that. I think you've got just about the +requisite amount of soft fruit for the one hundredweight of sugar +which, I believe, you were allocated." + +"There's still the rose garden," I said, "if you're not satisfied." + +"Been turning that into an orchard, have you?" he asked. "Very +patriotic, I'm sure." + +"Well, I don't know," I said. "My wife wants to make _pot-pourri_ as +usual, but what I say is, in these days--and with all that sugar--it +would surely be more patriotic (as you say) to make _fleurs de Nice._" + +"It would be more patriotic perhaps," observed Lord RHONDDA'S minion +sententiously, "not to make jam at all." + +"Ah!" I said. "Have a glass of beer before you go." + +W. B. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. + + _Chorus_. "HERE SHALL HE SEE + NO ENEMY + BUT WINTER AND ROUGH WEATHER."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Taxi-driver (who has forced lady-driver on to the +pavement)._ "NOW, THEN, IF YOU WANT TO LOOK IN THE SHOP WINDOWS WHY +DON'T YOU TAKE A DAY OFF?"] + + * * * * * + +Headline in _The Yorkshire Daily Observer_:-- + + "KAISER'S 1904 PLOTS" + +No doubt there were quite as many as that, but we should like to know +how our contemporary arrives at the exact number. + + * * * * * + +AN EXTRAORDINARY DAY. + +1. A Staff Officer came back from the line without having had a narrow +escape. + +2. A General visited the line and expressed unqualified approval of +everything he saw. + +3. A Quartermaster-Sergeant put _all_ the contents of the rum-jar into +the tea. + +4. A sniper fired at a Hun and reported a miss. + +5. A bombing-party threw bombs into a sap without reporting "shrieks +and groans were heard, and it is thought that many casualties were +inflicted." + +6. A Sergeant-Major complimented a new squad of recruits. + +7. Somebody read an Intelligence Summary. + +8. A very high official fired the first shot to open the new +rifle-range and failed to hit the bull. + + NOTE--(a) The Marker was not court-martialled for spreading alarm + and despondency in His Majesty's forces; but + + (b) The quality of mercy was fearfully strained. + +9. A bombing-class came back from practice without a single casualty. + +10. A Subaltern got leave on compassionate grounds. He wanted to be +married. + +11. A Corps Commander was punctual at an inspection. And + +12. It did not rain on the day of the offensive. + +Truly an extraordinary day. Shall we ever live to see it, I wonder? + + * * * * * + +MORE SEX PROBLEMS + + "For Sale.--Dark red Shorthorn Bulls, from two years downwards, + bred to milk for thirty years."--_Farmer's Weekly_. + + "For Sale by Auction, one Mare Colt."--_Kent and Sussex Courier_. + + "Then again the cockerel is a summer layer."--_Irish Farming + World_. + + * * * * * + + "Sir Godfrey Baring, the sitting Liberal member, is not standing + again."--_Evening Paper_. + +If he's not going to sit or stand, he'll have to take it lying down. + + * * * * * + + A Venetian boy-scout on the Lido + Had sighted a hostile torpedo, + So he cried, "Don't suppoge + You can blow up the Doge; + You must do without him--as we do." + + * * * * * + + "WEST OF ENGLAND.--To be Sold, a perfect gentleman's Residence, in + faultless condition and all modern improvements, and a pedigree + Stock Farm of 150 acres adjoining, with possession."--_Daily + Paper_. + +We hope the pedigree of the perfect gentleman is included as well as +that of the stock farm. + + * * * * * + +PETHERTON AND THE RAG AUCTION. + +A letter I received last Friday gave me one of those welcome excuses +to get into closer touch with my neighbour, Petherton, than our daily +proximity might seem to connote. I wrote to him thus:-- + + DEAR MR. PETHERTON,--Miss Gore-Langley has written to me to say + that she is getting up a Rag Auction on behalf of the Belgian + Relief Fund, and not knowing you personally, and having probably + heard that I am connected by ties of kinship with you, she asked + me to approach you on the subject of any old clothes you may have + to spare in such a cause. + + Of course I'm not suggesting you should allow yourself to be + denuded in the cause (like Lady GODIVA), but I daresay you have + some odds and ends stowed away that you would contribute; for + instance, that delightful old topper that you were wont to go to + church in before the War, and that used to cause a titter among + the choir--can't you get the moths to let you have it? Neckties, + again. Where are the tartans of '71? Surely there may be some + bonny stragglers left in your tie-bins. And who fears to talk of + '98 and its fancy waistcoats? All rancour about them has passed + away, and if you have any ring-straked or spotted survivors, no + doubt they would fetch _something_ in a good cause. I hope you + will see what you can do for + + Yours very truly, + + HENRY J. FORDYCE. + +Petherton's reply was brief. He wrote:-- + + SIR--Had Miss Gore-Langley chosen a better channel for the + conveyance of her wishes I should have been only too pleased to do + what I could to help. As it is, I do not care to have anything to + do with the affair. + + Yours faithfully, + + FREDERICK PETHERTON. + +But he was better than his word, as I soon discovered. So I wrote:-- + + DEAR PETHERTON,--I have had such a treat to-day. I took one or two + things across to Miss Gore-Langley, who was unpacking your noble + contributions when I arrived. Talk about family histories; your + parcel spoke volumes. + + I was frightfully interested in that brown bowler with the flat + brim, and those jam-pot collars. Parting with them must have been + such sweet sorrow. + + I feel like bidding for some of your things, among which I also + noted an elegantly-worked pair of braces. With a little grafting + on to the remains of those I am now wearing, the result should be + something really serviceable. I don't mind confessing to you that + I simply can't bring my mind to buying any new wearing apparel + just now. I'd like the bowler too. It should help to keep the + birds from my vegetables, and incidentally the wolf from the door. + And seeing it fluttering in the breeze you would have a continual + reminder of your own salad days. + + Surely the priceless family portrait in the Oxford oak frame got + into the parcel by mistake. I am expecting to acquire that for a + song, as it cannot be of interest except to one of the family, and + I should be glad to number it among my heirlooms. + + Miss G.-L. is awfully braced with the haul, and asked me to thank + you, which is one of my objects in writing this. + + Yours sincerely, + + HARRY FORDYCE. + +Petherton was breathing hard by this time, and let drive with:-- + + SIR,--It is like your confounded impertinence to overhaul the + few things I sent to Miss Gore-Langley, and had I known that you + would have had the opportunity of seeing what my wife insisted on + sending I should certainly not have permitted their despatch. + + I have already told you what I think of your ridiculous claims to + kinship with my family, and shall undoubtedly try to thwart any + impudent attempts you may make to acquire my discarded belongings. + The photograph you mention was of course accidentally included in + the parcel, and I am sending for it. + + Yours faithfully, + + FREDERICK PETHERTON. + +In the cause of charity I rushed over to the Dower House, and pointed +out to Miss Gore-Langley how she might swell the proceeds of the sale. +I then wrote thus to Petherton:-- + + DEAR OLD MAN,--Thanks for your jolly letter. I'm sorry to tell + you that Miss G.-L. holds very strong views on the subject of + charitable donations, and you will have to go and bid for anything + you want back. I'm very keen on that photograph, if only for + the sake of your pose and the elastic-side boots you affected + at that period. Everyone here is quite excited at the idea of + having Cousin Fred's portrait among the family likenesses in the + dining-room, and its particular place on the wall is practically + decided upon. + + I shall probably let the braces go if necessary, but I shall + contest the ownership of the bowler up to a point. + + Why not have your revenge by buying one or two of my things? There + is a choice pair of cotton socks, marked T.W., that I once got + from the laundry by mistake; they are much too large for me, but + should fit you nicely. There's a footbath too. It leaks a bit, but + your scientific knowledge will enable you to put it right. It's + a grand thing to have in the house, in case of a sudden rush of + blood to the head. + + Cheerio! + + Yours ever, + + HARRY. + +Petherton simply replied:-- + + SIR,--It is, I know, absolutely useless to make an appeal to you, + and I shall simply outbid you for the portrait if possible; if + not, I shall adopt other measures to prevent your enjoying your + ill-mannered triumph. + + Yours faithfully, + + F. PETHERTON. + +The Auction was held last Wednesday. I didn't attend it, but got Miss +Gore-Langley to run up the price of the portrait as far as seemed +safe, on my behalf, which resulted in Mrs. Petherton getting it for £5 +15s. I got the hat, but Mrs. Petherton outbid my agent for the braces. + + DEAR FREDDY (I wrote), Wasn't it a roaring success--the Auction, I + mean? I didn't manage to attend, but have heard glowing accounts + from its promoter. + + The most insignificant things, I hear, went for big prices; one + patriotic lady, I'm told, even going to £5 15s. for a faded + photograph of a veteran in the clothes of a most uninteresting + sartorial period. It was in a cheap wooden frame, of a pattern + that is quite out of the movement. Fancy, £5 15s.! + + Did you buy anything? + + In haste, + + Yours, H. + +If you have any stout safety-pins, lend me a couple, old boy. I failed +to secure the braces. They fetched 1s. 9d., which was greatly in +excess of their intrinsic value. + +There has been no reply from Petherton to date. + + * * * * * + +JOURNALISTIC CANDOUR. + + "Mr. Wells has no master in controversy with ordinary mortals, + but I would seriously warn him that arguing with the 'Morning + Post' leads after a certain point to softening of the + brain."--"_Diarist" in "The Westminster Gazette_." + +We have always taken a painful interest in _The Westminster's_ +quarrels with _The Morning Post_. + + * * * * * + + "In 1914-15 there was for the first time a surplus of cereals + of about 27,475 tons produced in Egypt."--_Times_. + +For the first time? Shade of JOSEPH! + + * * * * * + + "A Young Lady is desirous of CHANGE. Has wholesale and retail + military experience. Also knowledge of practical."--_Daily + Telegraph_. + +Now, then, HAIG. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: DOING THEIR BIT.] + + * * * * * + +BEASTS ROYAL. + +I. + +QUEEN HATSHEPSU'S APE. + +B.C. 1491. + + Now from the land of Punt the galleys come, + HATSHEPSU'S, sent by Amen-Ra and her + To bring from God's own land the gold and myrrh, + The ivory, the incense and the gum; + The greyhound, anxious-eyed, with ear of silk, + The little ape, with whiskers white as milk, + And the enamelled peacock come with them. + + The little ape sits on HATSHEPSU'S chair, + And with a solemn and ironic eye + He sees TAHUTMES strap the balsamed hair + Unto his royal chin and wonders why; + He sees the stewards and chamberlains bow down, + Plays with the asp upon HATSHEPSU'S crown, + And thinks, "A goodly land, this land of Khem!" + + The little ape sits on HATSHEPSU'S knee + While the great lotus-fans move to and fro; + Outside along the Nile the galleys go + And the Phoenician rowers seek the sea; + Outside the masons carve TAHUTMES' chin, + Tipped with the beard of Ra, and lo, within-- + The ape, derisive and ineffable. + + The little ape from Punt sits there beside + TAHUTMES and HATSHEPSU on their throne, + Dissembling courteously his inward pride + When the great men of Egypt, one by one, + Their oiled and shaven heads before him bend, + And thinking, "I was born unto this end; + I am the King they honour. It is well." + + * * * * * + +THE CLINCHOPHONE. + + ["WANTED.--Loud gramophone (second-hand) for reprisals."--_Advt. + in "The Times."_] + +It is just to meet such pressing demands as this that the Gramophobia +Company have introduced their remarkable instrument or weapon, +described as The Clinchophone. No home is complete without it. + +It is supplied with little oil bath, B.S.A. fittings and kick start. + +A child can set it in motion, but nothing on earth will stop it until +its object is achieved and there is peace with honour. + +Installed in a neighbourhood bristling with pianos, amateur singers, +gramophones, and other grind boxes it saves its cost in doctors' +bills. + +It is fatal at fifty yards, and there has been nothing like it since +the "Tanks." It can do almost everything except stop before its time. + +Read the following testimonials:-- + + "GENTLEMEN,--While the grand piano next door was playing last + evening I pressed the button of The Clinchophone. The piano + immediately sat back on its haunches, gibbered and then fell + on the player." + + "DEAR SIR,--At the first trial of my new Clinchophone my + neighbour's gramophone rushed out of the house and has not been + heard of since." + + "SAVED" says: "Last night the _basso profondo_ two doors away + started singing, 'Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep.' He sang two + bars and then crawled round to my house on his hands and knees and + collapsed on the doorstep with the word 'Kamerad!' on his lips." + + * * * * * + +OUR STYLISTS. + + "The look from his eyes, the ashen colour of his face, the passion + in his voice, mute though it was, frightened and bewildered + her."--_Story in "Home Notes."_ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "DEARIE ME, NOW, I SHOULDN'T HA' THOUGHT THEY GIVES YOU +ENOUGH MONEY IN THE ARMY TO FILL ALL THEM THERE LITTLE PURSES."] + + * * * * * + +PATROLS. + +The Scout Officer soliloquises:-- + + The lights begin to leap along the lines, + Leap up and hang and swoop and sputter out; + A bullet hits a wiring-post and whines; + _I wish to Heaven that I was not a Scout!_ + + Time was (in Dorsetshire) I loved the trade; + Far other is this battle in the waste, + Wherein, each night, though not of course afraid, + I wriggle round with ill-concealed distaste, + + Where who can say what menace is not nigh, + What ambushed foe, what unexploded crump, + And the glad worm, aspiring to the sky, + Emerges suddenly and makes you jump. + + Where either all is still, so still one feels + That something huge must presently explode, + And back, far back, is heard the noise of wheels + From Prussian waggons on the Douai road; + + And flares shoot upward with a startling hiss + And fall, and flame intolerably close, + So that it seems no living man could miss-- + How huge my head must look, my legs how gross!-- + + Or the live air is full of droning hums + And cracking whips and whispering snakes of fire, + And a loud buzz of conversation comes + From Simpson's party putting out some wire. + + Or else--as when some soloist is done + And the hushed orchestra may now begin-- + A sudden rage inflames the placid Hun + And scouts lie naked in a world of din. + + The sullen bomb dissolves in singing shapes; + The whizz-bang jostles it--too fast to flee; + Machine-guns chatter like demented apes-- + And, goodness, can it _all_ be meant for me? + + It can and is. And such are small affairs + Compared with Tompkins and his Lewis gun, + Or eager folk who play about with flares, + And, like as not, mistake me for a Hun; + + Compared with when some gunner, having dined, + To show his guest the glories of his art + 'Poops off a round or two,' which burst behind, + But fail to drown the beating of my heart + + Sweet to all soldiers is the rearward view; + To infanteers how grand the gunners' case! + And I suppose men pine at G.H.Q. + For the rich ease of people at the Base. + + To me is sweet this mean and noisome ditch, + When on my belly I must issue out + Into the night, inscrutable as pitch-- + _I wish to Heaven that I was not a Scout!_ + + A. P. H. + + * * * * * + + "Good Donkey for Sale: musical."--_Louth Advertiser_. + +Sings "The Vicar of Bray." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE INSEPARABLE. + +THE KAISER (_to his People_). "DO NOT LISTEN TO THOSE WHO WOULD SOW +DISSENSION BETWEEN US. _I WILL NEVER DESERT YOU_."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: AFTER THE INSPECTION. + +_Orderly (to Colonel)_. "CAN I GET YOU A TAXI, SIR?" + +_Colonel_. "YES, PLEASE, DEAR."] + + * * * * * + +A LONDON MYSTERY SOLVED. + +Everyone must have observed a phenomenon of the London streets which +becomes continually more noticeable. And not only must they have +observed it, but have suffered from it. + +At one time the omnibuses, which are rapidly becoming the only means +of street transport for human beings, had regular stopping-places at +the corner's of streets, at Piccadilly Circus, at Oxford Circus, and +so forth. + +The corner was the accepted spot; the crowds gathered there, and the +omnibus, stopping there, emptied and refilled. But there has been a +gradual tendency towards the abandonment of the corners, causing the +omnibuses to pull up farther and farther from them, so that it seems +almost as if a time may come when, instead of Piccadilly Circus, for +example, the stopping-place for west-bound omnibuses will be St. +James's church. + +Everyone, as I say, must have noticed this change in traffic habits, +and most people believe that police regulations are at the bottom of +it. + +But I know better; and the reason why I know better is a little +conversation I have had with a driver. + +It was during one of the finest efforts towards depressing dampness +that even this Summer has put up, and the driver dripped. A great +crowd of miserable mortals awaited his omnibus at a certain recognised +halt, all desperately anxious for a seat or even standing room; but +these he disregarded and carefully urged the vehicle on for another +twenty yards. + +While the wretched people were running along the pavement to begin +their struggle for a place, I asked him why he had put them to all +that trouble. + +"I suppose it's the police," I said, to make it easier for him. + +"Not as I know of," he replied. + +"But why not stop where the public expect you to?" I asked. + +"Why?" he inquired. + +"Well, it would be more reasonable, more helpful," I suggested. + +"Who wants to help or be reasonable?" he replied. "Here, look at me. +I'm driving this bus for hours and hours every day. I'm cold and wet. +I'm putting on the brakes from morning to night, saving people's silly +lives, until I'm sick of the sight of them. If you was to drive a +motor bus in London you'd want a little amusement now and then, too." + +"So it's just for entertainment that you dodge about over the +stopping-places and keep changing them?" I asked. + +"Yes," he replied. + + * * * * * + +ANOTHER IMPENDING APOLOGY. + + "I was sorry to hear that Lady Diana had met with a nasty motor + accident; but had escaped with only slight injuries."--_Mrs. + Gossip in "The Daily Sketch."_ + + * * * * * + + "STOP-PRESS NEWS. + + "GERMAN OFFICIAL. + + "Also ran: Julian, The Vizier, Siller and Pennant."--_Manchester + Evening Chronicle_. + +It is not often that the German official communiqués admit defeat. + + * * * * * + + "The Poor's Piece appears to be a sort of No Man's Land, and ever + since the extinction of Vestrydom has been within the parochial + administrative parvenu of the Urban District Council."--_Essex + Paper_. + +Who is this municipal upstart? + + * * * * * + + A SIGNIFICANT STEP. + + The _Evening Post's_ Washington correspondent states: "Mr. Lloyd + George's speech at Glasgow is a significant step in the process + of winning the war by liplomatic strategy."--_Sydney Daily + Telegraph_. + +There's many a slip 'twixt the dip and the lip; but "liplomatic" is +not a bad word. + + * * * * * + +THE MUD LARKS. + +Nobody out here seems exactly infatuated with the politicians +nowadays. The Front Trenches have about as much use for the Front +Benches as a big-game hunter for mosquitoes. The bayonet professor +indicates his row of dummies and says to his lads, "Just imagine +they are Cabinet Ministers--go!" and in a clock-tick the heavens are +raining shreds of sacking and particles of straw. The demon bomber +fancies some prominent Parliamentarian is lurking in the opposite sap, +grits his teeth, and gets an extra five yards into his bowling. + +But I am not entirely of the vulgar opinion. The finished politician +may not be a subject for odes, but a political education is a +great asset to any man. Our Mess President, William, once assisted +a friend to lose a parliamentary election, and his experience has +been invaluable to us. The moment we are tired of fighting and want +billets, the Squadron sits down where it is and the Skipper passes the +word along for William. William dusts his boots, adjusts his tie and +heads for the most prepossessing farm in sight. Arrived there he takes +off his hat to the dog, pats the pig, asks the cow after the calf, +salutes the farmer, curtseys to the farmeress, then turning to the +inevitable baby, exclaims in the language of the country, "Mong Jew, +kell jolly ong-fong" (Gosh, what a topping kid!), and bending tenderly +over it imprints a lingering kiss upon its indiarubber features and +wins the freedom of the farm. The Mess may make use of the kitchen; +the spare bed is at the Skipper's disposal; the cow will move up +and make room for the First Mate; the pig will be only too happy to +welcome the Subalterns to its modest abode. + +Ordinary billeting officers stand no chance against our William and +his political education. "That fellow," I heard one disgruntled +competitor remark of him, "would hug the Devil for a knob of coke." +Once only did he meet his match, and a battle of Titans resulted. + +In pursuit of his business he entered a certain farm-house, to +find the baby already in possession of another officer, a heavy +red creature with a monocle, who was rocking the infant's cradle +seventy-five revolutions per minute and making dulcet noises on a +moustache comb. + +William's heart fell to his field boots; he recognised the red +creature's markings immediately. This was another politician; no +bloodless victory would be his; fur would fly first, powder burn--Wow! + +The red person must have tumbled to William as well, for he increased +the revolutions to one hundred and forty per minute and broke into a +shrill lullaby of his own impromptu composition:-- + + "Go to sleep, Mummy's liddle Did-ums; + Go to sleep, Daddy's liddle Thing-ma-jig." + +Nevertheless this did not baffle our William. He approached from a +flank, deftly twitched the infant out of its cradle by the scruff of +its neck, and commenced to plaster it with tender kisses. However the +red man tailed it as it went past and hung on, kissing any bits he +could reach. When the mother reappeared they were worrying the baby +between them as a couple of hound puppies worry the hind leg of a cub. +She beat them faithfully with a broom and hove both of them out into +the wide wet world, and we all slept in a bog that night, and William +was much abused and loathed. But that was his only failure. + +If getting billets is William's job, getting rid of them is the Babe's +affair. William, like myself, has far too great a mastery of the +_patois_ to handle delicate situations with success. For instance, +when the fanner approaches me with tidings that my troopers have burnt +two ploughshares and a crowbar and my troop horses have masticated a +brick wall I engage him in palaver, with the result that we eventually +part, I under the impression that the incident is closed, and he under +the impression that I have promised to buy him a new farm. This leads +to all sorts of international complications. + +The Babe, on the other hand, regards a knowledge of French as immoral +and only knows enough of it to order himself a drink. He is also +gifted with a slight stutter, which under the stress of a foreign +language becomes chronic. So when we evacuate a billet William +furnishes the Babe with enough money to compensate the farmer for all +damages we have not committed, and then effaces himself. Donning a +bright smile the Babe approaches the farmer and presses the lucre into +his honest palm. + +"Hi," says the worthy fellow, "what is this, then? One hundred francs! +Where is the seventy-four francs, six centimes for the fleas your dog +stole? The two hundred francs, three centimes for the indigestion your +rations gave my pig? The eight thousand and ninety-nine francs, five +centimes insurance money I should have collected if your brigands had +not stopped my barn from burning?--and all the other little damages, +three million, eight hundred thousand and forty-four francs, one +centime in all--where is it, _hein_?" + +"Ec-c-coutez une moment," the Babe begins, "Jer p-p-poovay expliquay +tut--tut--tut--tut--sh-sh-shiss--" says he, loosening his stammer at +rapid fire, popping and hissing, rushing and hitching like a red-hot +machine-gun with a siphon attachment. In five minutes the farmer is +white in the face and imploring the Babe to let by-gones be by-gones. +"N-n-not a b-bit of it, old t-top," says the Babe. "Jer p-p-poovay +exp-p-pliquay b-b-bub-bub-bub--" and away it goes again like a +combined steam-riveter and shower-bath, like the water coming down +at Lodore. No farmer however hardy has been known to stand more than +twenty minutes of this. A quarter-of-an-hour usually sees him bolting +and barring himself into the cellar, with the Babe blowing him kisses +of fond farewell through the keyhole. + +We are billeted on a farm at the present moment. The Skipper occupies +the best bed; the rest of us are doing the _al fresco_ touch in tents +and bivouacs scattered about the surrounding landscape. We are on very +intimate terms with the genial farmyard folk. Every morning I awake to +find half-a-dozen hens and their gentleman-friend roosting along my +anatomy. One of the hens laid an egg in my ear this morning. William +says she mistook it for her nest, but I take it the hen, as an honest +bird, was merely paying rent for the roost. + +The Babe turned up at breakfast this morning wearing only half a +moustache. He said a goat had browsed off the other half while he +slept. The poor beast has been having fits of giggles ever since--a +moustache must be very ticklish to digest. + +Yesterday MacTavish, while engaged in taking his tub in the open, +noticed that his bath-water was mysteriously sinking lower and lower. +Turning round to investigate the cause of the phenomenon he beheld +a gentle milch privily sucking it up behind, his back. There was a +strong flavour of Coal Tar soap in the _café au lait_ to-day. + +This morning at dawn I was aroused by a cold foot pawing at my face. +Blinking awake, I observed Albert Edward in rosy pyjamas capering +beside my bed. "Show a leg, quick," he whispered. "Rouse out, and +Uncle will show boysey pretty picture." + +Brushing aside the coverlet of fowl I followed him tip-toe across the +dewy mead to the tarpaulin which he and MacTavish call "home." + +Albert Edward lifted a flap and signed me to peep within. It was, as +he had promised, a pretty picture. + +At the foot of our MacTavish's mattress, under a spare blanket lifted +from that warrior in his sleep, lay a large pink pig. Both were +occupied in peaceful and stertorous repose. + +"Heads of Angels, by Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS," breathed Albert Edward in +my ear. + +PATLANDER. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Old Lady from the Country_. "I'VE ASKED FOUR PORTERS, +AND THEY ALL TELL ME DIFFERENT." + +_Porter_. "WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT, MISSUS, IF YER ASKS FOUR DIFFERENT +PORTERS?"] + + * * * * * + +COMMERCIAL CANDOUR. + + "1913 Touring Ford, in splendid condition, fitted with new coils, + parafin vaporiser; has been little use."--_Irish Times_. + + * * * * * + +THE TWO LETTERS. + +I had as usual two letters to write. There are always two and often +twenty, but this morning there were two only. One was to my old +friend, A., who had just gone into bankruptcy; the other was to my +young friend, B., whose sporting efforts in France have won him very +rapid promotion. He was just bringing his new captain's stars to +England on a few days' leave. + +A. is a somewhat austere and melancholy man; B. is just as different +as you can imagine. + +I wrote thus. First to A.:-- + + "MY DEAR MAN,--I am sorry to hear your bad news. The times are + sufficiently depressing without such a blow as this having to fall + on you. I am certain that you don't deserve such treatment, and + you have all my sympathy. As for the disgrace--there is none. You + are simply a victim of the War. If there is anything I can do to + cheer you up, let me know. + + "I am, yours, etc.,--." + +To B. I wrote thus:-- + + "DEAR OLD TOP,--This is the best news I have heard for a long + time. I always knew you would bring it off soon; but I wasn't + prepared for anything quite so sudden. There is, of course, only + one thing to do when a man fulfils his destiny in this way. The + custom is immemorial, and, war or no war, we must crack a bottle. + Tell me where you would like to dine, and when, and I'll fix it + up, and some jolly show afterwards. Occasions like This must be + celebrated. + + "I am, yours, etc.,--." + +So far it is a somewhat feeble narrative, nor has it any point beyond +the circumstance that I posted the letters in the wrong envelopes. + + * * * * * + +WHAT TO DO WITH OUR CRITICS. + + "The Ministry of Munitions has for disposal approximately 75 TONS + WEEKLY of PRESS MUD."--_Advt. in "The Engineer."_ + + * * * * * + + "In consequence of the epidemic at the Royal Naval College, + Osborne, in the spring of this year, it has been decided to + reduce the number of cadets at the College from 500 to 300. + This reduction will not affect the numbers to be entered, as + a larger number of cadets will be accommodated at Dartmouth + Colliery."--_Scotsman_. + +Where they will be trained, we suppose, as mine-sweepers. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE REDUCED TRAIN SERVICE AT SLOWGRAVE. + +"NO NEED TO IDLE YOUR TIME AWAY. JUST GET A SHEET OF EMERY-PAPER AND +TAKE THE RUST OFF O' THEM RAILS."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: TRIALS OF A CAMOUFLAGE OFFICER. + +_Sergeant-Major_. "BEG PARDON, SIR, I WAS TO ASK YOU IF YOU'D STEP UP +TO THE BATTERY, SIR." + +_Camouflage Officer_. "WHAT'S THE MATTER?" + +_Sergeant-Major_. "IT'S THOSE PAINTED GRASS SCREENS, SIR. THE MULES +HAVE EATEN THEM."] + + * * * * * + +"GOG." + +(_TO THE AUTHOR OF "JONG," PUNCH, SEPTEMBER 19TH._) + + O singer sublime of Beeyah-byyah-bunniga-nelliga-jong, + It isn't envy, the green and yellow, + That makes me take up my lyre, old fellow, + And burst with a fierce cacophonous bellow + Across the path of your song. + I want to propose another name, + Unknown to you and unknown to fame; + It is like the sound of a hand-sawn log + Or the hostile hark of a husky dog: + Chagogagog-munchogagog-chabun-agungamog! + + This cracker of jaws is a lake, I'm told, + A lake in the U.S.A., + And first the Indians, the red sort, owned it, + But later to Uncle Sam they loaned it, + Who afterwards made no bones, but boned it + In the fine Autolycus way; + And though life wasn't a matter vital + He kept with the lake its rasping title, + Which recalls the croak of an amorous frog + Or a siren heard in an ocean fog: + Chagogagog-munchogagog-chabun-agungamog! + + * * * * * + +THE BUTTERFLY. + + "Two thousand cabbage butterflies have been captured by Huntingdon + school-children, but more stern measures for their capture must be + introduced."--_Evening Paper_. + +In order to capture the cabbage butterfly the first thing to do is to +interest the creature by giving it a cabbage-leaf to play with. Then +take the kitchen-chopper in the right hand, lift it high and bring it +down with a crash on the third vertebra. Few butterflies repeat any +offence after this is severed. + + * * * * * + +THE INVINCIBLE ARGENTINE. + + "There is a most useful Navy, including two or three + super-Dreadnoughts, and the best-bred racehorses in the + world."--_Irish Times_. + + * * * * * + + "Further instructions as regards the allowance to householders + which have increased in size will be issued later. The issue of + temporary cards is under consideration."--_Food Control Notice in + "Liverpool Daily Post."_ + +"Who have increased in size" would be better grammar and just as good +sense. + + * * * * * + +A LESSON FOR THE NATIONAL SERVICE DEPARTMENT. + +Words under a picture in _The Daily Mail_:-- + + "Chiropodists are attending to the feet of America's new army, + and dentists are paying attention to the teeth." + +Whereas in the British Army it might so easily have been the other way +round. + + * * * * * + +OUR STYLISTS AGAIN. + +From _The Tatler_ on the subject of the little Stork, which is the +badge of Capt. Guynemer's squadron:-- + + "What emblem could, indeed, be more appropriate as well as + beautiful as the bird which is the symbol of Alsace?" + + * * * * * + + "Wanted, Girls, age 18 to 22, for Jam Jars."--_Manchester Evening + Chronicle_. + +As a substitute for sugar, we presume; but wouldn't "Sweet Seventeen" +be even more suitable? + + * * * * * + + "In almost every part of England and Wales there are now + some 200,000 women who are doing a real national work on the + land."--_Mr. PROTHERO'S letter in "The Daily Telegraph."_ + +If there are 200,000 women in almost every part of England there can't +be much chance for the men, particularly the single men. + + * * * * * + +THE WAR DOG. + +Never confuse the "War dog" with the "dog of War." The War dog is a +direct product of the War, but you never yet met him collecting for +a hospital, or succouring the wounded, or assisting the police, or +hauling a mitrailleuse if he could help it. Yet the War dog worships +the Army; it represents a square meal and a "cushy" bed. The new draft +takes him for a mascot; but the old hand knows him better. A shameless +blend of petty larceny, mendacity, fleas, gourmandism, dirt and +unequalled plausibility. + +You meet the War dog on some endless road. He will probably be wearing +round his neck a piece of dirty card analogous to the eye patch and +drooping Inverness cape of some mendicants nearer home--a "property" +in fact, and put there by himself, the writer is convinced, although +he has not yet actually caught the War dog dressing for the part. The +War dog on the road has "spotted" you long before you have seen him, +and he has marked you for his own. You become conscious of a piteous +whine just behind you and, turning, see the War dog, his eyes filled +with tears of entreaty, crawling towards you on his stomach. He +advances inch by inch, and on being encouraged with comfortable words +of invitation the parasite wriggles his lean body (it is trained +to _look_ lean--actually it is well padded with stolen food from +officers' kitchens) up to your feet, and, selecting a puddle in token +of his deep humility, rolls upon his back and smiles tearfully up +at you from between his grimy fore-paws. Then the game goes forward +merrily as per schedule. + +Of course you take him back to camp and give him your last piece of +Blighty cake. You introduce your protégé--always crawling on his +stomach--to the cook; swear to the dog's immaculate conduct; beg a +trifle of straw from the transport, and in short see him comfortably +settled for the night. + +The War dog has you now well beneath his paws. He joins the Mess and +listens with an ill-concealed grin as each in turn boasts of the +rat-catching powers of his dog at home. Then the War dog retreats +hurriedly as a mouse appears; and you, his victim, apologise for him +and explain how he has been shaken by adversity and what a noble +creature a few days of good food and kind treatment will make of him. +The rest is simple. The War dog (with his court) invades your bed +and home parcels, and brings you into disrepute with all and +sundry--especially the Cook and Quarter. He is fought and soundly +thrashed by the regimental mascot (half his size), and the battalion +wit composes limericks about you and your pet. + +Then suddenly your War dog disappears. You are just beginning to live +him down--having moved into another area--when you espy him from the +street, the centre of a noisy group in a not too reputable wine-shop. +But the War dog never recognises you. He has finished with you--grown +tired of you, in fact (he rarely "works" the same victim for more than +three weeks). You and your battalion are to him as it were a bone +picked clean; and you depart with a prayer that he may die a stray's +death at the hands of the Military Police. + +One month travelling snugly in a G.S. waggon (you never catch him +marching like an honest mascot), the next "swinging the lead" in some +warm dug-out--there are few moves on the board of the great War game +that he does not know. He will patronise a score of regiments in three +months; travel from one end of the Western Front to the other and back +again, taking care never to attempt to renew an old acquaintance. +Occasionally he makes the mistake of running across a mitrailleuse +battery with its dog-teams needing reinforcements, or tries to billet +himself on a military pigeon-loft and meets a violent death. But +whatever fortune may bring him we can confidently assert that he is +much too fly to chance his luck across the border and into the land +where the sausage-machines guard the secret of perpetual motion. + + * * * * * + +IN WILD WALES. + + Dwarfing the town that to the hillside clings + On terraced slopes, the castle, nobly planned + And noble in its ruined greatness, flings + Its double challenge to the sea and land. + + Oh, if the ancient spirit of the place + Could win free utterance in articulate tones, + What tales to hearten and inspire and brace + Would issue from these grey and lichened stones! + + Once manned and held by paladin and peer, + Now tenanted by jackdaws, bats and owls, + Save when the casual tourist through its drear + And grass-grown courts disconsolately prowls. + + Once famous as the scene of Border fights, + Now watching, in the greatest war of all, + Old men, with their bilingual acolytes, + Beating, outside its gates, a little ball; + + While on the crumbling battlements on high, + Where mail-clad men-at-arms kept watch and ward, + Adventurous sheep amaze the curious eye + Instead of grazing on the level sward. + + But though such incongruities may jar + The sense of fitness in a mind fastidious, + Modernity has wholly failed to mar + The face of Nature here, or make it hideous. + + Inland the amphitheatre of hills + Sweeps round with Snowdon as their central crest, + And murmurs of innumerable rills + Blend with the heaving of the ocean's breast. + + Already Autumn's fiery finger laid + On heath and marsh and woodland far and wide + In all their gorgeous pageantry has arrayed + The tranquil beauties of the countryside. + + Here every prospect pleases, and the spot, + Unspoilt, unvulgarised by man, remains, + Thanks largely to a System which has not + Accelerated or improved its trains. + + Yet even here, amid untroubled ways, + Far from the city's fevered, tainted breath, + Yon distant plume of yellow smoke betrays + The ceaseless labours of the mills of death. + + * * * * * + + "William Arthur Fletcher, ship's apprentice, of South Shields, + was remanded for a week on a charge of being absent from his + ship. His captain alleged that he had found Fletcher asleep on + the bridge."--_Daily Dispatch_. + +It must have been his mind that was absent. + + * * * * * + + "At St. Peter's, Vere Street, where he is going to preach from the + 30th of this month to the end of this year, the Rev. R.J. Campbell + will speak from the pulpit of Frederick Denison Maurice, like + himself a convert to the Church of England ... To hear him was an + experience never forgotten."--_Guardian_. + +And this although MAURICE rarely preached for more than one month on +end. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MANNERS IN MACEDONIA. + +LADIES FIRST.] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks_.) + +I can't help thinking that _Gyp_, the central figure in Mr. JOHN +GALSWORTHY'S new story, _Beyond_ (HEINEMANN), was unhappy in her +encounters with the opposite sex. But if memory serves me this is an +experience familiar to Mr. GALSWORTHY'S heroines. Men were always +wanting to kiss _Gyp_, or to marry her, or both, and after a time kept +going off and repeating the process with somebody else; so that one +can't fairly be astonished if towards the end of the book her outlook +had become rather cynical. The character who might have preserved her +estimate of mankind in general, and the best and most sympathetically +drawn figure in the book, is _Gyp's_ perfectly delightful old father, +who throughout the conspicuous failure of her two unions, legitimate +and other, retained his fine and chivalrous regard and unfailing +care for a daughter who might well have been a thorn in the flesh of +a conventional parent. But the relations of these two were never +conventional. _Gyp_ had been herself a love-child, and the knowledge +of this is shown very clearly in its influence upon their mutual +attitude. As for her own affairs, these were, first--to her father's +unbounded astonishment--marriage with a temperamental violinist, who +ran rapidly down the scale from adoration of his own wife to intrigue +with another's; second, clandestine relations with a man of her own +race and breed, who loved her to idolatry, and within a few months was +found embracing his cousin. Poor _Gyp_! I jest; but you will need no +telling that for sincerity and beauty of writing here is a book that +you cannot afford to miss. Sometimes I am a little uncertain what Mr. +GALSWORTHY is driving at, but I never fail to admire his drive. + + * * * * * + +Unless Mr. S.P.B. MAIS learns to curb his enthusiasms and to rid +himself of certain prejudices he will be wantonly seeking trouble. +_Rebellion_ (GRANT RICHARDS) is in some respects a more thoughtful and +promising book than _Interlude_, but it is marred by what can only be +called the same narrow point of view. With everybody and everything +modern Mr. MAIS shows an ardent sympathy, but if he is ever to give a +comprehensive picture of life he must contrive to be more patient with +the old-fashioned. Here his strong personality obtrudes itself too +often, and he is inclined to forget that he is a novelist and not a +preacher. I could imagine him throwing off a fine comminatory sermon +from the text, "Cursed be he who does not admire the genius of Mr. +COMPTON MACKENZIE." This homily is drawn from me with reluctance, +because in the main I am a strong believer in Mr. MAIS, and (with +his connivance) have every intention of retaining that attitude. +With all its faults _Rebellion_ remains gloriously distinct from the +rubbish-heap of fiction by virtue of its intense sincerity and its +frequent flashes of fine descriptive writing. The question of sex +dominates it, and those of us who still think that such problems are +merely sustenance for the prurient-minded may cast it impatiently +aside. But others who like to watch a clever man feeling his way +towards the light, and regard a novel as neither a bait nor a bauble, +can be confidently advised to read it. They may be irritated, but they +will be intrigued. + + * * * * * + +On the cover of _One Woman's Hero_ (METHUEN) you will read that "This +book has been designed to cheer and strengthen those for whom, from +bereavement owing to the War, the days and nights are sometimes only +a procession of sad and torturing visions." Which of course disarms +criticism, other than what may be expressed in a question whether a +book less exclusively preoccupied by the War might not more surely +have attained this end. But again, of course, maybe it wouldn't. The +tale (for all our pretendings) is not yet written that can actually +bring oblivion to bereavement, so perhaps the next best thing is +topical chatter of the bright and unsentimental kind with which SYBIL +CAMPBELL LETHBRIDGE has filled her entertaining pages. Chatter is +the only term for it, though it is quite good of its style; the form +being a series of letters written to a friend by the young wife of a +soldier at the front. Her neighbours, their households and dinners and +affectations and courage, are what she writes about; especially do I +commend her handling of the "Let us Forget and Forgive" tribe. To all +such (and most of us know at least one) I should suggest the posting +of a copy of _One Woman's Hero_, with the page turned down (an act +permissible in so good a cause) at the report of the annihilation +of one of these well-intentioned but infuriating philosophers. The +combined logic and equity of this suggest that the Government might +do worse than commandeer the services of Miss LETHBRIDGE as a +dinner-table propagandist. + + * * * * * + +I think BEATRICE GRIMSHAW tortures overmuch her tough bronzed +Australian hero, who "could fight his weight in wild cats," and +her beautiful slender heroine, "daughter of castles, descendant of +crusaders." First the twain fall desperately in love, and _Edith_, +the Catholic, discovers _Ben_ to be an innocent _divorcé_. Marriage +impossible, they part. But it is apparently quite in order for her to +marry, without loving, a cocoa king who drinks--anything but cocoa; +which done, to add to the bitterness of the cup, _Ben's_ wife is +reported dead. Whereafter the king in a drunken fit poisons himself, +and the widow, fearing to be suspect, flies with her big _Ben_ to his +secret _Nobody's Island_ (HURST AND BLACKETT), off the New Guinea +coast, where they live comfortably off ambergris. Eventually tracked +down by the dead king's brother, who allows himself to be persuaded of +_Edith's_ innocence on what seems to me the most inadequate evidence, +the lovers, after protracted mental agonies and physical dangers, +are about to enjoy deserved peace when _Ben's_ wife turns up again, +necessitating further separation; till finally _Edith_, with a +handsome babe and the news that after all _Ben's_ first wife wasn't +a wife at all, finds her way back to Nobody's Island. Now that does +seem to be rather overdoing it. But I hasten to credit the writer with +a very happy gift of description, which brings the Papuan forests +and mountains (or something plausibly like them) vividly before the +reader, while the characters, including a boy villain ingenuously +bizarre, are amusing puppets capably manipulated. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. BARNES-GRUNDY possesses a wonderful supply of sprightly humour. +_Her Mad Month_ (HUTCHINSON) is funny without being flippant, and +although the heroine is very naughty she is never naughty enough to +shock her creator's unhyphened namesake. Perhaps _Charmian's_ exploits +in escaping from a severe grandmother, and going unchaperoned to +Harrogate (where a very pretty piece of philandering ensued), do +not amount to much when seriously considered, but it is one of Mrs. +BARNES-GRUNDY'S strong points that you cannot take her seriously. I am +on her side all the time when she is giving me light comedy, but when +she leaves that vein and bathes her heroine in tears I cannot conjure +up any real sympathy. I never for a moment doubted that _Charmian's_ +lover, though reported as having "died from wounds," would turn up +again. I am afraid the War is responsible for a great deal of rather +obvious fiction. + + * * * * * + +Miss MARIE HARRISON has investigated the condition of Ireland, and in +_Dawn in Ireland_ (MELROSE) she presents the results of her studies. +The book is inspired by a great deal of the right kind of enthusiasm, +and the advice given is so excellent as to arouse the fear that it +will not be taken. Yet Miss HARRISON is justified of her endeavours. +She shows how often the English governors of Ireland have failed, in +spite of the best intentions, only because they applied their remedy +too late and thus, to their own great surprise, wasted the generosity +of which they were perhaps too conscious. According to Miss HARRISON +the gombeenman is the curse of Ireland, the serpent whose presence, if +only he can be reduced to being an absentee, warrants us in regarding +Ireland as a possible Eden. Miss HARRISON will please to take the +preceding sentence as proving my entire sympathy with Irish modes +of thought and expression and, generally, with Ireland. Against +the gombeener (who is a shop-keeper running his business on the +long-credit system) she invokes a vision of the blessings of +co-operation. One of her heroes is Sir HORACE PLUNKETT, and, indeed, +the work of the Irish Agricultural Organisation Society, over which +he has presided, has been an unmixed benefit to Ireland. I heartily +endorse Miss HARRISON'S hope that "at no distant period all will +be well with Ireland." Her book should certainly help towards this +result. + + * * * * * + +Captain VERE SHORTT fell at Loos in September of 1915, and left twelve +chapters of a story, _The Rod of the Snake_ (LANE), which his sister +has finished and very capably finished; helped by the recollection of +many intimate conversations about the plot and its development. It +tells how young _Charlie Shandross_, bidding his preposterous soldier +uncle be hanged, shook the stale dust of Ballybar off his feet, served +three years in the C.M.R., and so prepared himself for the deadly +adventure of the rod of the snake, the image of the ape, the Haytian +attaché and the sinister priestess of Voodoo rites--Paris its setting. +I won't spoil your pleasure by giving the details away; I will only +say it is all very splendidly incredible, but not unplausible, and the +authors do take pains with their puzzles, as where the hero and his +party find the secret spring of the panel in the vault by the blood +tracks of their enemy, who has been thoughtfully wounded in the hand. +A small point but significant; too many writers in this kind being +given to whisking their favourites out of danger in the most arbitrary +manner. A good railway book, of the sort you can confidently pass on +to the soldiers' hospitals after reading it. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE LAST VISITOR AND THE NATIONAL ANTHEM.] + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10663 *** |