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diff --git a/old/11670-h/11670-h.htm b/old/11670-h/11670-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cfc64bc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11670-h/11670-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2191 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st November 2003), see www.w3.org" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=us-ascii" /> +<title>Punch, June 11, 1919.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note, + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + .author {text-align: right; } + .center {text-align: center; } + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .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;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i16 {margin-left: 8em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + .footnote {font-size: 0.9em; margin-right: 10%; margin-left: 10%;} + + .side { float:right; + font-size: 75%; + width: 25%; + padding-left:10px; + border-left: dashed thin; + margin-left: 10px; + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + font-weight: bold; + font-style: italic;} + --> +/*]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 156, +June 11, 1919, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 156, June 11, 1919 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: March 22, 2004 [EBook #11670] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Sandra Brown and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> +<h2>Vol. 156.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<h2>June 11, 1919.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page453" id="page453"></a>[pg +453]</span> +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> +<p>"Every British working man has as much right as any Member of +Parliament to be paid £400 a year," states a well-known +Labour paper. We have never questioned this for a moment.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"Women," says a technical journal, "are a source of grave danger +to motorists in crowded city streets." It is feared in some +quarters that they will have to be abolished.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"Are you getting stout?" asks a Sunday contemporary. Only very +occasionally, we regret to say.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The heat was so oppressive in London the other day that a +taxi-driver at Euston Station was seen to go up to a pedestrian and +ask him if he could do with a ride. He was eventually pinned down +by some colleagues and handed over to the care of his +relatives.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"I do not care a straw about Turkey," writes Mr. LOVAT Fraser in +<i>The Daily Mail</i>. It is this dare-devil spirit which has made +us the nation we are.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Superstition in regard to marriage is dying out, says a West End +registrar. Nevertheless the superstition that a man who gets +married between January 1st and December 31st is asking for trouble +is still widely held.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. VAN INGEN, a New York business man, has just started to +cross the Atlantic for the one hundred and sixtieth time. It is not +known whether the major ambition of his life is to leave New York +or go back and have a last look at it.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"There is no likelihood," says the FOOD-CONTROLLER, "of cheese +running out during the coming winter." A pan of drinking water left +in the larder will always prevent its running out and biting +someone during the dog-days.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Sympathetic readers will be glad to hear that the little +sixpence which was found wandering in Piccadilly Circus has been +given a good home by an Aberdeen gentleman.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Aeroplane passengers are advised by one enterprising weekly not +to throw bottles out of the machine. This is certainly good advice. +The bottles are so apt to get broken.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Germany, it is expected, will sign the Peace treaty this once, +but points out that we must not allow it to happen again.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Of two burglars charged at Stratford one told the Bench that he +intended to have nothing further to do with his colleague in +future. It is said that he finds it impossible to work with him +owing to his nasty grasping ways.</p> +<hr /> +<p>Sixty-seven fewer babies were born in one Surrey village last +year than in previous years. It would be interesting to have their +names.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A grocer, according to a legal writer, is not compelled to take +goods out of the window to oblige a customer. The suggestion that a +grocer is expected to oblige anybody in any circumstances is +certainly a novelty.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Uxbridge, says <i>The Evening News</i>, has no bandstand. Nor +have we, but we make no fuss about it.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The Bolshevists in Russia, we are told, are busy sowing seeds of +sedition. For some time it has been suspected that the Bolshevists +were up to no good.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>HERBERT WELSH, aged sixty-seven, has started to walk from New +Jersey to New Hampshire, U.S.A., a distance of five hundred miles. +In the absence of fuller details we assume that HERBERT must have +lost his train.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"Postage stamps," says a weekly snippets paper, "can be obtained +at all post-offices." This should prove a boon to those who have +letters to write.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>It is thought if a certain well-known judge does not soon ask, +"What is whisky?" he will have to content himself with the past +tense.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>"What to do with a Wasp" is a headline in a contemporary. We +have not read the article, but our own plan with wasps is to try to +dodge them.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>We hear that complications may arise from an unfortunate mistake +made at a Jazz Competition held in London last week. It appears +that the prize was awarded to a lady suffering from hysteria who +was not competing.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>A taxi-driver in a suburb of London was married last week to a +local telephone operator. Speculation is now rife as to which will +be the first to break down and say "Thank you."</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>The Press reports the case of a young lady who received slight +injuries from a slab of ceiling which fell on her head whilst she +was asleep in bed, but was saved from further damage by the +thickness of her hair. This should act as a warning to those ladies +who adopt the silly habit of removing their tresses on retiring for +the night.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:40%;"><a href= +"images/453.png"><img width="100%" src="images/453.png" alt= +"" /></a><i>Hospital Orderly (taking particulars of new +patient).</i>"NAME, SIR?"<br /> +<i>Patient</i>. "SIR BRUCE BLAZEAWAY."<br /> +<i>Hospital Orderly</i>. "RANK?"<br /> +<i>Patient</i>. "LIEUTENANT-GENERAL."<br /> +<i>Hospital Orderly</i>. "BATTALION?"</div> +<hr /> +<h4>To Sign or not to Sign?</h4> +<p>As Count BROCKDORFF-RANTZAU puts it, quoting from his German +translation of <i>Hamlet: "Sein oder nicht sein, dass ist hier die +Frage</i>."</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"The recommendations of the Jerram Committee came before a +conference between a representative body of lower deck ratings and +members of Parliament who sit for naval constituencies. The +veterinary chief petty officer presided."—<i>Sunday +Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The rank is new to us; but he must be just the man to look after +the interests of our sea-dogs.</p> +<hr /> +<p>From the "Transactions" of a photographic society:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"Mr. —— stated that as Architectural Photography +covered a large and varied field he purposed to confine his remarks +to the line of work most familiar to him, namely, The Interiors of +some of the great English Ministers."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Now at last we shall know if the Government's heart is in the +right place.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page454" id="page454"></a>[pg +454]</span> +<h2>TO ROBERT OF THE FORCE.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Since first you loomed upon my infant ken</p> +<p class="i2">My firm belief has ever been, and still it is,</p> +<p>That you are fashioned not as other men</p> +<p class="i2">(Subject, at best, to mortal disabilities),</p> +<p>But come of more than human kin,</p> +<p>Immune, or practically so, from sin.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Godlike the poise that to your bearing lends</p> +<p class="i2">The aspect of a tower that never totters;</p> +<p>There's a divinity hath shaped your ends</p> +<p class="i2">(Rough-hewn, perhaps—especially your +trotters);</p> +<p>Your ample chest, your generous girth</p> +<p>Have no precise similitude on earth.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I cannot picture you (though I have tried)</p> +<p class="i2">Wearing a bowler hat and tweed apparel,</p> +<p>Or craving sustenance for your inside</p> +<p class="i2">Drawn either from the oven or the barrel;</p> +<p>Scarcely you figure in my eye</p> +<p>As liable, in Nature's course, to die.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And it was you who almost fell from grace,</p> +<p class="i2">Striking, like Lucifer, against authority,</p> +<p>Leaving your Heaven for another place</p> +<p class="i2">Not mentioned by your ten-to-one majority,</p> +<p>And doomed, to your surprise and pain,</p> +<p>Never, like Lucifer, to rise again.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But you were wise, my Robert, wise in time;</p> +<p class="i2">And I, who set you far above humanity,</p> +<p>High-pedestalled upon my lofty rhyme,</p> +<p class="i2">Rejoice with you in your recovered sanity;</p> +<p>To me I feel it would have mattered</p> +<p>Enormously to see my idol shattered.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But 'ware the Bolsh, who fain would lure your feet</p> +<p class="i2">To conduct unbecoming in a copper;</p> +<p>Once you betrayed us, going off your beat,</p> +<p class="i2">And now you've nearly come another cropper;</p> +<p>If, tempted thrice, you break your trust,</p> +<p>You'll have no halo left to readjust.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>O.S.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>EMBARRASSMENT AND THE LAWYER.</h2> +<p>Watson is a young barrister who is feeling rather pleased with +himself. I confess that he has deserved it.</p> +<p>The situation was as follows. Before the War he had had no +briefs, but had always had a conscience. A hopeless state of +affairs. Then he went to the War and shed his conscience somewhere +in the Balkans. So far so good. But, when he was demobilised and +began to take stock of what had been happening at home in the +meanwhile, he found to his horror that a conscience had again been +thrust upon him by the General Council of the Bar.</p> +<p>Such was the situation he had to face, and he has won +through.</p> +<p>How, you ask, did the G.C.B. play this trick on him? It happened +in this way. Having nothing better to do during Watson's absence +and at a critical moment of the War, these idle elderly well-fed +lawyers solemnly deliberated upon the following fantastic +problem:—</p> +<p>"What is the duty of counsel who is defending a prisoner on a +plea of Not Guilty when the prisoner confesses to counsel that he +did commit the offence charged?"</p> +<p>With a cynical disregard of their own past these sophists +propounded the following answer:—</p> +<p>"If the confession has been made before the proceedings have +been commenced it is most undesirable that an advocate to whom the +confession has been made should undertake the defence, as he would +most certainly be seriously embarrassed in the conduct of the case, +and no harm can be done to the accused by requesting him to retain +another advocate."</p> +<p>The new Watson was unable to agree with this doctrine, so far as +it concerned himself. Nevertheless he had no choice but to accept +it.</p> +<p>The legal conscience thus gratuitously thrust upon him was soon to +undergo its first ordeal. An acquaintance of his, in a moment of +absent-mindedness, murdered somebody, and asked Watson to persuade +the inevitable jury that he hadn't. The said acquaintance explained +to Watson that he simply did it when he wasn't thinking.</p> +<p>Watson was in a hole. Obviously this was a case to which the +embarrassment prescribed by the General Council of the Bar was +applicable. This legal embarrassment, which, strictly speaking, +ought now to be his, would not, however, have worried him in the +least had it not been for another consideration. Suppose, after +Watson had triumphantly got his client acquitted, it got about that +the "innocent" had confessed his crime to counsel beforehand? That +would mean an end to Watson's professional career. One does not +thus slight the edicts of the mighty with impunity.</p> +<p>Watson was too proud to ask his client to keep the deadly +secret, or to apply the famous wriggle of <i>Hippolytus</i>: "My +tongue hath sworn, but my heart remains unsworn."</p> +<p>Nevertheless Watson gave his mind to the problem. In the end he +decided on the following line of defence: "Not Guilty," and in the +alternative "Guilty under justifiable circumstances, without malice +aforethought but with intent to benefit the person murdered."</p> +<p>Happily the General Council of the Bar has not yet assigned any +moral embarrassment to a counsel who pleads "Not Guilty," and in +the alternative, "Guilty." Watson therefore reasoned that if the +jury returned a verdict of "Not Guilty," his client's alternative +confession could be written off as an obvious mistake; on the other +hand, if he were found "Guilty," the fact of confession would be an +ethical asset towards securing for him a lenient view of the +case.</p> +<p>As I said, Watson behaved well. He proved to his own and the +jury's satisfaction (1) that his client did not commit the murder; +(2) that alternatively he did commit the murder, but that he did so +for the good of everybody concerned; and (3) that in either case he +never meant to do it.</p> +<p>In the event the prisoner was acquitted without a stain upon his +character or upon his advocate's.</p> +<p>Watson is now well established as the last hope of abandoned +causes. He is a specialist in defence, and criminals of every shade +throng to him. When a new one swims into his ken Watson meets him +on the threshold and says, "Don't speak a word. Read this;" and he +puts into his hand a printed slip. The slip reads:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>" <i>Conditions of Advocacy</i>.</p> +<p>"(1) If you put your case into my hands it ceases at once and +from that moment to be any concern of your own. You are not +entitled, for instance, to express any opinion as to whether you +committed the alleged crime or not. That is my affair +exclusively.</p> +<p>"(2) If however there is anything which lies so heavily on your +conscience that it must out sooner or later, let it be later. I am +open to receive confessions at any time after proceedings have +begun.</p> +<p>"If you accept these conditions, good; if not, go."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Watson says they always accept them, so he never worries about +the General Council of the Bar.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page455" id="page455"></a>[pg +455]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/455.png"><img width="100%" src="images/455.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>THE NEW ISSUE.</h3> +<p>OIL GENIE <i>(gushingly, to Coal-Owner and Mr. SMILLIE).</i> +"CAN I DO ANYTHING TO ALLAY THE TROUBLED WATERS?"</p> +<br /> +<p>[The discovery of oil in Derbyshire, which threatens the +supremacy of the mining industry, may affect the questions now in +dispute before the Coal Commission.]</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page456" id="page456"></a>[pg +456]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/456.png"><img width="100%" src="images/456.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Harassed Mother (having distributed half of her offspring on +laps of passengers).</i> "COME ON, 'ENERY. SQUEEZE IN SOMEWHERE. +'TAIN'T EXAC'LY 'OW I LOIKES TO TRAVEL, BUT S'POSE WE'LL 'AVE TO +PUT UP WITH IT."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>AN ERROR IN TACTICS.</h2> +<p>In the heart of the Forêt de Roumare there is a spot +called Rond du Chêne à Leu, where eight paths meet. +Why they choose to meet there, unless it is for company, one can't +imagine. The fact that there is not an estaminet within five +kilometres nullifies its value as a military objective. Therefore, +having been decoyed thither by a plausible guide-book, it was with +surprise that I beheld an ancient representative of the British +Army smoking his pipe with the air of having been in possession for +centuries.</p> +<p>"Bit lonely here," I said.</p> +<p>"Rumble's Moor on a wet Friday's busy to it," he said +emphatically. "Is it reet the War's over?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>He puffed his pipe for a few minutes while the information +soaked in.</p> +<p>"Who won?"</p> +<p>"The Peace Conference haven't decided yet."</p> +<p>Conversation languished until I remembered the guide-book.</p> +<p>"According to tradition," I said, "it was at this identical spot +that ROLLO, first Duke of Normandy, hung his golden chain on a +sign-post for a whole year without having it stolen."</p> +<p>"Tha-at ud be afore we brought our Chinese Labour gang felling +timber," he said firmly; "I wudden give it five minutes now."</p> +<p>"I understand, too, that there is a historic ruin +hereabouts."</p> +<p>"Theer was," he said; "but he's in hospital."</p> +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> +<p>"Ratty Beslow; my owd colleague an' sparring pardner. It's 'im +you weer talking of, ain't it?"</p> +<p>"It wasn't; but I'm interested in him," I said, sitting down on +a pile of logs. "How did he get to hospital?"</p> +<p>"Through a mistake in Nacheral 'Istory. You see, me an' Ratty +had been in th' War a goodish time an' ha-ad lost our o-riginal +ferociousness. So they put us to this Chink Labour gang for a +rest-cure. Likewise Ratty 'ad got too fa-amous as a +timber-scrounger oop th' line, and it was thought that if 'e was +left in th' middle of a forest, wheer it didn't matter a dang if he +scrounged wood fra' revally to tattoo, it might reform him. But it +was deadly dull. We tried a sweepstake f'r th' one as could +recognise most Chinks at sight, and a raffle for who could guess +how many trees in a circle; but there wasn't much spice in it. So +at last Ratty suggested we should try a bit o' poaching.</p> +<p>"'Ah doan't know th' first thing about it,' I says; 'Ah'm town +bred. Nobbut Ah could knock a few rabbits over if Ah'd got a Lewis +gun handy.'</p> +<p>"'Rabbuts be danged!' says he; 'Ah've no use f'r such vermin. +Theer's stags, so Ah've heerd tell, in this forest.'</p> +<p>"'Ah wudden say no to a haunch o' venison,' I answered; 'but +stags is artillery work.'</p> +<p>"'They is not,' says Ratty. 'Nor yet rifles nor bombs.'</p> +<p>"'Ah s'pose you stops theer holes an' puts in a ferret,' says I, +sarcastic; 'or else traps 'em wi' cheese.'</p> +<p>"'That's the only kind o' hunting you've bin used to,' replies +Ratty. 'Stags is caught wi' tactics, a trip-wire an' a lasso.'</p> +<p>"'Well, la-ad,' I says, 'you'd best do th' lassoing. I doan't +know the habits o' stags.'</p> +<p>"Ratty scrounges a prime rope fra' somewheers, an' we creeps out +after nightfall. It was a dree night, the owd bracken underfoot +damp an' sodden, an' th' tall firs looking grim an' gho-ostly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page457" id="page457"></a>[pg +457]</span> in th' gloom. Soon theer was a crackling o' twigs, like +a tank scouting on tiptoe.</p> +<p>"'Bosch patrol half-left!' whispers I.</p> +<p>"'Stow it, you blighter,' says Ratty. 'This is serious. Can't +you see th' stag?'</p> +<p>"I peeps round and, loomin' in the da-arkness, see th' +hindquarters of a stag sticking out ayant a tree. It looked bigger +'n Ah 've seen 'em in pictures, but Ah 've noticed Fritzes look +bigger in th' dark.</p> +<p>"'Now's your chance, la-ad,' I whispers. 'Trip round an' slip +th' noose over 'is horns.'</p> +<p>"'Not me,' growls Batty. 'T'other end's safer.'</p> +<p>"He crawls up to it wi' th' rope all ready, but just as he was +going to slip it over its leg it seemed to stand on its head, feint +wi' its left an' get an upper-cut wi' its right under Ratty's chin. +A shadow passed across th' fa-ace o' the moon, which I judged to be +Ratty.</p> +<p>"'Ratty's after altitude records,' says I to meself, 'an' +there'll be th' ellanall of a row if that rope's lost.'</p> +<p>"However, in a few minutes he started to descend an' made a good +landing in some soft bracken. By th' time I'd felt him all over, +an' found 'e'd be fit to go to hospital in th' morning, th' stag +had disappeared."</p> +<p>"I never heard of stags kicking like that before," I +interrupted.</p> +<p>"Nor hadn't Ratty," said the ancient warrior. "Ah towd you he +made a mistake in Nacheral 'Istory.</p> +<p>"The next night, feeling mighty lonely, Ah walked five +kilometres to th' nearest estaminet, the 'Rondyvoo de Chasers,' an' +looked upon the <i>vang</i> while it was <i>rouge</i>. When I'd +done lookin' and started home th' forest looked more gho-ost-like +than ever wi' th' young firs bowing an' swaying, and drifts o' +cloud peeping through the branches. All at once I heerd a crackling +o' twigs like th' night afore, an' then someone stole acrost th' +road carrying a rope.</p> +<p>"Ah says to myself, 'It's one of th' Chinks poaching, an' it's +'evin 'elp 'im if 'e 's after what Ratty nearly caught last +night!'</p> +<p>"Seemingly 'e was, for 'e follered th' noise, an' Ah follered +'im—at a safe distance. Then, dimlike an' looming big, Ah saw +th' stag, an' the Chink stealing up behind it.</p> +<p>"'Tother end, you fool!' I whispered; an' he jumps round to its +head, slips th' noose round its neck an' leads if off as quiet as a +lamb."</p> +<p>"You don't expect me to believe," I broke in indignantly, "that +a stag can be led like a poodle on a lead?"</p> +<p>"P'r'aps not stags," said the veteran, relighting his pipe. +"That's weer Ratty made the mistake that sent 'im to hospital. But +you can do it now and then with a transport mule what's broke away, +and the Chink done it."</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/457.png"><img width="100%" src="images/457.png" alt= +"" /></a><i>Photographer (to Douglas Devereux, the world-famous +cinema-actor</i>). "TIKE YER PHOTO, SIR?"</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<h4>Commercial Candour.</h4> +<p>"In reply to your letter to hand, we are very sorry for the +delay in sending the Jumper, but the tremendous demand for these +has denuded our stock. We are, however, expecting a further delay +now in a day or so.</p> +<p>Yours obediently,</p> +<p>BROTHERS, LTD."</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"The spell of hot weather is causing large numbers of the public +to migrate to the Kent coast. Thanet, owing to greatly improved +travelling facilities, is being specially flavoured. The public +well know the magical properties of Thanet air."—<i>Evening +Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Then why bother about flavouring it?</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"The Food Controller announced that canned salmon is now free of +control, and that chocolates and other sweetmeats will be freed on +July 1.</p> +<p>He also intimates that canned salmon is now free of control, and +that chocolates and other sweetmeats will be freed on July +1."—<i>Daily Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>We hope he will say it once more, on the Bellman's principle +that "what I tell you three times is true."</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page458" id="page458"></a>[pg +458]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/458.png"><img width="100%" src="images/458.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Chorus of children (to parent, late Lieut-Col. R.F.A., +D.S.O., M.C. and Bar</i>). "DON'T BE FRIGHTENED, DADDY; SHE'LL ONLY +PECK YOUR LEGS."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>HINTS ON SELECTING AN AEROPLANE.</h2> +<p>As all the world will soon be in the air a few words of advice +on choosing an aerial steed may be of assistance to intending +fliers who have so far had no experience as owners of winged +craft.</p> +<p>The first thing is to locate the whereabouts of the best park, +for one speaks of a park of aeroplanes just as one speaks of a +school of whales, a grove of wombats or a suite of leeches. Having +arrived (wearing, if you are wise, a full-grown check cap, with the +back to the front and the peak protecting the nape of the neck from +the bites of savage vendors), take a deep breath and look round you +knowingly.</p> +<p>By the way, what are you—peer, profiteer, or plain +<i>pater-familias</i> looking for a family air-bus? It is +impossible to advise you how to select a plane without knowing +whether you want one for long-distance journeys (with non-starting +attachment), for stunting, or merely for gadding about and dropping +in on your friends. There is a sad story afloat of a man who bought +an air-bus the other day for world-touring and only discovered the +insufficiency of cupboards and the want of a bathroom after +starting on his maiden trip to Patagonia (where the nuts drop +off).</p> +<p>Let us suppose that you are one of the majority of +heavier-than-air persons who will shortly be wanting a good steady +machine to rise to any ordinary occasion.</p> +<p>Well, then, look round you carefully. Observe the demeanour of +the machines that are trotted out (if such a term may be used) for +your inspection. The flick of a tail, the purr of an engine or the +slope of a wing may give the observant a clue as to the disposition +of an aerial Pegasus.</p> +<p>But however reassuring a preliminary canter may be (to borrow +another horsey simile) insist on a thorough personal inspection of +all parts of the machine. Test the musical capacity of the wire +entanglement, screw and unscrew the turnbuckles till the seller +cries for mercy, and run your hands well over the body (the +aeroplane's, of course) to make quite sure that it will support the +weight of yourself, of your family and of your +parasites—remembering in this connection that Aunt Louisa +kicks the beam at 15.7. Make sure also that the body will not part +company with the rest of the box of tricks at one of those awkward +corners in the sky. Also, if you have time, it might be well to +glance at the engine, the petrol tank and the feed-pipe, as experts +consider these of importance.</p> +<p>Having satisfied yourself that all these things are as they +should be in the best of all possible aeroplanes, that the +joy-stick works as smoothly as a beer-pull, and that the +under-carriage has the necessary wheels, axles and other things +that under-carriages are licensed to carry, little remains but to +pay for the machine and make a nosedive for home.</p> +<p>A longer and more detailed article on "How to Choose a Stunter," +by the Bishop of Solder and Man, with which is incorporated "A Few +Hints on Banking for Beginners," by Sir JOHN BRADBURY, will appear +in next week's issue.</p> +<p>[This is the first I have heard of it.—ED.]</p> +<hr /> +<p>From a Menu:—</p> +<blockquote> +<p>"Special this day: Boiled Rabbi and Pork."</p> +</blockquote> +<p>A clear case of adding insult to injury.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page459" id="page459"></a>[pg +459]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/459.png"><img width="100%" src="images/459.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE DERBY.</h3> +<p><i>Nurse</i>. "PLEASE IS THIS THE WAY TO THE GRAND PARADE?"</p> +<p><i>Soured Spinster</i>. "DON'T MENTION THE HORRID THING, YOUNG +WOMAN, AND ME WITH HALF-A-MONTH'S PENSION ON THE PANTHER."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>BALLADE OF APPROACHING BALDNESS.</h2> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I'm back in civil life, all brawn and chest,</p> +<p class="i2">Lungs made of leather, heart as right as rain;</p> +<p>I still could dine off bully-beef with zest;</p> +<p class="i2">I've never had a scratch or stitch or sprain;</p> +<p class="i2">Life seems to throb in every single vein.</p> +<p>Yet I'm a whited sepulchre, in brief;</p> +<p class="i2">I've one foot in the grave, I'm on the wane,</p> +<p>I'm heading for the sere and yellow leaf.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>From Mons to Jericho I've borne my crest</p> +<p class="i2">And back from Jericho to Mons again;</p> +<p>I've sampled smells in Araby the Blest</p> +<p class="i2">Would burst a boiler or corrode a drain;</p> +<p class="i2">The Blankshires have a port that raises +Cain—</p> +<p>I've messed with them and never come to grief;</p> +<p class="i2">And yet I'm dashing like a non-stop train</p> +<p>Full steam into the sere and yellow leaf.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>It caught me hard this morning when I dressed</p> +<p class="i2">And read the mirror's verdict. Ah, the pain</p> +<p>Is gnawing like a canker at my breast,</p> +<p class="i2">Is beating like a hammer in my brain;</p> +<p class="i2">I must speak out or break beneath the strain.</p> +<p><i>I'm going bald on top</i>. O cruel reef</p> +<p class="i2">Where youthful hopes lie wrecked! O dismal lane</p> +<p>Whose end is but the sere and yellow leaf!</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16">ENVOI.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Prince (Mr. Punch)! on Armageddon's plain</p> +<p class="i2">My love-locks fell a prey to Time, the thief.</p> +<p>Regrets are useless, unguents are in vain;</p> +<p class="i2">Only remains the sere and yellow leaf.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<h4>The Commercial Touch.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"Presiding at the concert given in connection with the +—— Art Club's annual exhibition of oil and +water-colours, Mr. —— congratulated the club on the +quality of its paintings, which, he thought, were remarkably cheap +when cognisance was taken of the present high prices of +materials."—<i>Provincial Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>This critic has, as the Art jargon puts it, "a nice feeling for +values."</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"HOW I DIFFER FROM MY MOTHER."</p> +<p>By A Modern Woman.</p> +<p>'<i>Women differ by the width of Heaven from what their mothers +were</i>.'—MR. JUSTICE DARLING.</p> +<p>"I do not smoke and I do not wear bare-back dresses, but I agree +with Mr. Justice Darling—there is the width of Heaven between +my mother and I."—<i>Evening News</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Let's hope so, in the matter of grammar.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page460" id="page460"></a>[pg +460]</span> +<h2>HUMOUR'S LABOUR LOST.</h2> +<blockquote> +<p class="author"><i>Lochtermachty, N.B.<br /> +May 29th, 1919.</i> </p> +<p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,—My father and I have fallen out over the +question of your literary judgment and sense of humour. If I +weren't a filial daughter I'd say that he's a ——; but I +am, so I won't call him names.</p> +<p>The fact is that, before he became a professional Padre, he +didn't know that such things as senses of humour existed. All that +mattered in his life were Latin and Greek and Hebrew and the other +pursuits of the classical scholar. However, during his wanderings +with the Army he has somehow managed to acquire what he calls "an +appreciation of the laughable." And that is the cause of our +divided house.</p> +<p>This morning at breakfast, while he was reading out the account +of the proceedings of the General Assemblies, he came upon the +interesting statement—volunteered by an eminent Edinburgh +divine—that all the ministers of the Kirk have lost a stone +in weight during the War, and that this works out at a loss of five +tons of ministerial flesh to the United Free Church of Scotland. +Then, after he had tested the accuracy of the statistics, which he +found quite incorrect, and I had meditated upon the bulk of matter +encircled by the parental Sam Browne, we were both seized with an +idea, and said "<i>Punch!</i>" at the same instant.</p> +<p>It took us some time to get rid of the accumulation of +marmalade, margarine and bacon fat which we amassed in our attempts +to link fingers across the table; but about 10.30 or so we got +settled down to work on your behalf.</p> +<p>Until lunch-time we were fully occupied in giving each other +ideas and then explaining why they wouldn't work. After lunch the +Padre retired to his study to work out, he said, a +satire—after ARISTOPHANES—which would afford him an +opportunity of introducing the Archbishop of CANTERBURY'S speech, +and making some whimsical allusions to the legend of the strayed +lamb come back to tell his lean Scotch brethren of the green +meadows and luscious feeding to be had across the Borders.</p> +<p>My own ambitions were slighter. I would do a conversation +perhaps between the shades of JOHNSON and his BOZZY, or a Limerick, +or even just an original witty remark, or, failing all of these, I +would select an "apt quotation." About tea-time I retired to the +garden with a notebook, a pencil and a book of quotations. By 6.30 +I had a list of one hundred and two, and was wavering over the +final choice of a parody on "Some hae meat wha canna eat," and an +adaptation of "Be sooople, Davie, in things immaterial," when my +parent came out to the lawn, flushed and excited, with his last +three hairs triumphantly erect, and brandished a document in my +face.</p> +<p>It was an ode, Mr. Punch—an ode five (foolscap) pages +long, written in Greek!</p> +<p>I gave him best at once, and then very gently suggested that his +composition might not in its present unmitigated form be +<i>quite</i> suited to your tastes and requirements.</p> +<p>I shall spare you the details of the ensuing controversy, but I +want you to know that I have spared you much else, and in so doing +have forfeited not only my father's affection but a projected +advance on my next quarter-but-three's dress allowance.</p> +<p>I hope you need no further proof of my devotion.</p> +<p>Yours, etc.,</p> +<p>A DAUGHTER OF THE MANSE.</p> +<p>P.S.—I was forgetting to say that you will find the bit +about the ministers near the bottom of the third column of the +tenth page of Thursday's <i>Scotsman</i>. Perhaps you can think of +a funny treatment yourself.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<h2>SONGS OF SIMLA.</h2> +<p class="center">III.—THE FURRIER.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Akbar the furrier squats on the floor</p> +<p class="i2">Sucking an Eastern pipe,</p> +<p>Thumbing the lakhs that he's made of yore,</p> +<p>Lakhs which creep to the long-dreamed crore</p> +<p class="i2">In a ledger of Western type.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And all around him the wild beasts sway,</p> +<p class="i2">Cured of their mortal ills—</p> +<p>Flying squirrels from Sikkim way,</p> +<p>Silver foxes that used to play</p> +<p class="i2">Up on the Kashmir hills.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>On the shelf of a cupboard a polecat lies</p> +<p class="i2">Laughing between his paws,</p> +<p>And there's more than a hint of amused surprise</p> +<p>In the gape of the lynx, in the marten's eyes,</p> +<p class="i2">In the poise of the grey wolf's claws.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And, should you enter old Akbar's lair</p> +<p class="i2">And hear what he wants for his skins,</p> +<p>You will know why the little red squirrels stare,</p> +<p>Why the Bengal tiger gasps for air</p> +<p class="i2">And the gaunt snow-leopard grins.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>J.M.S.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<p>The Telephone Girl's motto: <i>Nulla linea sine +die</i>—"Number engaged; ring again and again, please."</p> +<hr /> +<h2>ALAS! POOR PANTHER.</h2> +<p>I went to the Derby fully intending to back the +favourite—The Panther.</p> +<p>But the cross-currents immediately set in—as they always +do.</p> +<p>I began by making the mistake of reading the forecasts of all +the experts—the gallant Captains and Majors, the Men on the +Course, the Men on the Heath, the Men on the Spot—all of +whom, although they mostly favoured The Panther, had serious views +as to dangerous rivals, supported by what looked like +uncontrovertible arguments.</p> +<p>I also had an early evening paper with a summary of forecasts, +none of which (as it was to turn out) mentioned the winner at +all.</p> +<p>I was even so foolish as to glance at some of the advertisements +of the wizards who are so ready to put the benefit of their +knowledge at the service of the public and make fortunes for others +rather (apparently) than for themselves, all of whom hinted at some +mysterious long-priced outsider whose miraculous qualities of speed +were a secret. But of course I was too late to profit by these; +they merely unsettled me.</p> +<p>Not content with this I was forced to overhear the conversation +of others in our compartment, each of whom fancied a separate +animal, arguing with reasons that could not be gainsaid.</p> +<p>In this way I learned that The Panther would win in a canter and +would be badly beaten; that he was a stranger to the Epsom course; +that he was ready for anything; that he liked soft going; that he +was no good except when he could hear his hoofs rattle; that his +jockey was not strong enough; that his jockey was ideal; that he +was sounder than any horse had ever been, and that trouble was +brewing.</p> +<p>All this naturally left me shaken as to my first decision. Was I +wise, I asked myself, to trust all my eggs (forgive, Sir ALEC +BLACK, the poorness of this metaphor) to one doubtful basket?</p> +<p>Having admitted an element of doubt I was the prey of every +suspicion and began to consider the other candidates. All Alone +headed the list. I liked the name, because it suggested the +corollary: the rest nowhere. Also it belonged to a lady—to +the only lady owner, in fact—and lady—owners were said +(by a man with a red beard opposite me who smoked cigarettes so +short that I was certain it was made of dyed asbestos) to be in +luck this season. "Always follow the luck," he added. But then, on +the other hand, what could be more lucky than Colonel BUCHAN, +author of <i>Mr. Standfast</i> and an excellent History of the War, +into <span class="pagenum"><a name="page461" id="page461"></a>[pg +461]</span> whose lap so many good things fall? Why not back a +horse named after him? Besides, was not Buchan third favourite?</p> +<p>I was making a note of Buchan's claims, when a man with a +Thermos flask lashed to his side began to praise Dominion. +Dominion, it seems, was third in the Two Thousand +Guineas—only just behind Buchan, who was just behind The +Panther. Many people thought The Panther unduly lucky that day. A +very different course, too, at Newmarket from that at Epsom. +Obviously Dominion must be remembered. Moreover he was being +greatly fancied and some of the best judges looked to him to win +the Blue Riband for Lord GLANELY. The fact that Lord GLANELY drew +his own horse in the Baltic Sweep was not to be sneezed at either, +said some one. That's an omen if there ever was one! And it knocked +out Lord GLANELY'S other horse, Grand Parade.</p> +<p>"Well, here's a tip," cried a man with a frock-coat and a straw +hat. "Blest if I've got a single coin left—nothing but paper +money. That's good enough for me. I shall back Paper Money."</p> +<p>The carriage agreed that that was his duty. "Of course you +must," they said. "When everyone disagrees in the way that the +experts do, you might as well take a tip like that as +anything."</p> +<p>Paper Money had therefore to be added also to my list of +possibles.</p> +<p>"Besides," said another man, "DONOGHUE rides him; our leading +jockey, you know." I had forgotten to look at the jockeys' names. +How absurd! Of course one must back DONOGHUE.</p> +<p>But just then, "Give me WHALLEY," said the man with the asbestos +beard, and, as WHALLEY was riding Bay of Naples, I had to consider +him too. Naples was a jolly place and I had had a lot of fun there. +Hadn't I better make that my tip?</p> +<p>But, on the other hand, what about Tangiers? I had had fun there +too, and more than one fellow-passenger had darkly hinted that this +was a much better animal than public form proclaimed. Looking for +particulars, I found that he once "ran Galloper Light to a head;" +which had a promising sound. He was trained at Lambourne too, and I +like Lambourne. There is a good inn there and it is a fine walk to +White Horse Hill.</p> +<p>"Well," said another man, who had been borrowing matches from +his neighbour ever since Victoria, "I always had a feeling for a +Marcovil colt. Marcovil is a good sire. I 've had some very special +information about Milton, the Marcovil colt, to-day."</p> +<p>MILTON!—one of my favourite poets, and also one of Mr. +ASQUITH'S, as he said in that lecture last week. Yes, but is Mr. +ASQUITH exactly lucky just now? Perhaps not. And did not MILTON +write <i>Paradise Lost</i>? True. But, on the other hand, he wrote +<i>Paradise Regained</i>. You see how difficult tip-hunting can +be!</p> +<p>And so it went on and I emerged from the Epsom Downs station in +a maze of indecision, in which one fact and one only shone with +crystal clearness, and that was that whatever won the race The +Panther had no better chance, even though it had been made +favourite, than any other.</p> +<p>"Besides," as one of the two men who sat on my knees had said, +"What's a favourite anyway? Very often a horse is made a favourite +by the bookies, in conjunction with the Press, just so as everyone +will back it. No, no favourites for me. Give me a likely outsider +at good odds. Look what you have to put on The Panther to win +anything."</p> +<p>In the result I backed—well, I am not going to tell you; +but they "also ran."</p> +<p>The moral of this story—if it has one—is either +don't bet at all, or, if you do bet, draw the horse from a hat at +random, and, having drawn it, stick to it. No one, as the failure +of The Panther proves, can possibly <i>know</i> more than you.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/461.png"><img width="100%" src="images/461.png" alt= +"" /></a> <i>Daphne</i>. "I MUSTN'T HAVE ANY CAKE TILL I DON'T ASK +FOR IT, MUST I?"</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page462" id="page462"></a>[pg +462]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/462.png"><img width="100%" src="images/462.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Wife</i>. "HOW ABOUT SEAHAVEN FOR THE HOLIDAYS? I HEAR IT'S +VERY PICTURESQUE."</p> +<p><i>Profiteer</i>. "NOT OUR CLASS, MY DEAR. TOO QUIET—SORT +O' PLACE THE <i>NOUVEAUX PAUVRES</i> GO TO."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>TECHNICAL TERMS.</h3> +<p>When Ernest asked me to take a run in his car I took advantage +of the invitation because there are times when I think that life is +less joyful without a car and that one day I shall slip out and buy +one. I should love to grip the wheel and sweep the countryside and +listen to the soft purr of the engine. So we started sweeping the +countryside, Ernest and I; but we had not swept very much of it +before the soft purr developed a kind of cough and the car +stopped.</p> +<p>Ernest coaxed and petted her. He tried kindness, while I helped +him with sarcasm. He tried hauteur and then a little bad +temper.</p> +<p>Eventually he decided to send for the local motor engineer, and +it was when this gentleman arrived with his mate that I decided +that motoring was not for me and that I should have to fall back on +fretwork or tame mice for my recreation.</p> +<p>"Here, Bill," said Overalls-in-Chief, "just hold up the +Ding-dong."</p> +<p>His mate did as instructed and up went the Ding-dong.</p> +<p>"Now hand me the Doo-dal," he went on; "and while I tune up the +old Jig-jig you get the Pipety-pip and clean it out.</p> +<p>"Now get the Tick-tick and just give me a tap here with the +Ooh-jah, while I give the Thing-a-me-tight a couple for his +nob.</p> +<p>"See that?" he shouted at me. "Would you believe it? Easy as +winking. See, it was like this. The What's-a-name here, as kept the +Tiddley-um-tum in place, was sort of riding on the Squeak-box, so +as the Tiddley-om-pom and the other Jigger sort of gave the +half-seas-over to the Thing-a-me-bob and missed the Rum-ti-tum. +Simple, ain't it, Guv'nor?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I answered, "quite simple."</p> +<p>But I have decided to give up all idea of buying a car. I should +never learn the language.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>LITTLE GREY WATER.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Little Grey Water, my heart is with you</p> +<p class="i2">In the loop of the hills where the lone heron +feeds,</p> +<p>Where your cloak is a cloud with a lining of blue,</p> +<p class="i2">And your lover a wind riding over the reeds.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Little Grey Water, I know that you know</p> +<p class="i2">What the teal and the black duck are dreaming at +noon,</p> +<p>And the way of the wistful wild geese as they go</p> +<p class="i2">Through the haze of the hills to keep tryst with the +moon.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Little Grey Water, folk say and they say</p> +<p class="i2">That the homing hill-shepherd, benighted, has +heard</p> +<p>A song in the reeds, 'twixt the dawn and the day,</p> +<p class="i2">That was never the song of a breeze or a bird.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>But I know you so silent, so silent and still,</p> +<p class="i2">And so proud of your trust that you'll never +betray</p> +<p>What the fairies that gather from Grundiston Hill</p> +<p class="i2">Tell the stars before morning to witch them away.</p> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>W.H.O.</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page463" id="page463"></a>[pg +463]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/463.png"><img width="100%" src="images/463.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<h3>FAITH RESTORED.</h3> +<p>MR. PUNCH. "STANDS ROBERT WHERE HE DID? GOOD! I WAS AFRAID FOR A +MOMENT THAT MY IDOL HAD FEET OF CLAY."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<!--Blank Page 464--> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page465" id="page465"></a>[pg +465]</span> +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> +<p><i>Monday, June 2nd</i>.—The Lords seldom sit <i>die +Lunae</i>, and were perhaps feeling what humbler folk call "rather +Mondayish" at being summoned from their week-end pleasaunces to put +the Local Government (Ireland) Bill through its final stages. +Anyhow they developed some eleventh-hour criticisms. The sad case +of the Belfast Water Commissioners attracted Lord STUART OF +WORTLEY. There are fifteen of them—one each for the existing +wards. But under the Bill Belfast is to be divided into ten wards; +and fifteen into ten won't go, even in Ireland. Lord PEEL +considered that while Lord STUART'S arithmetic was impeccable his +fears were exaggerated. If Belfast drinks its whiskey neat it will +not be for want of Water Commissioners.</p> +<p>In the Commons Members were disappointed to learn from Sir +AUCKLAND GEDDES that he had no idea of the time when railway-fares +would be reduced to the amount printed on the tickets. Nor were +they much consoled by his promise to consider the suggestion that +as the fare cannot be brought down to the ticket the ticket shall +be brought up to the fare. We should not lightly part with our few +reminders of the cheap dead days that are no more. In fact it would +be a salutary thing if other tradesmen imitated the "commercial +candour" of the railways and ticketed their goods with the pre-war +value in addition to the present charge.</p> +<p>There is a juvenile impulsiveness about Sir HENRY CRAIK which +reminds one of "the boy who wouldn't grow up," and may account for +his keen interest in Kensington Gardens. Dissatisfied with an +assurance of the FIRST COMMISSIONER OF WORKS that he was doing his +best to get the War Office to clear away their hutments he burst +out, "Could he not attempt to use some disciplinary action against +the obstinacy, the stupidity, the slackness, the carelessness of +those who are responsible?" Swept away by this spate of sibilants +Sir ALFRED MOND essayed no further answer.</p> +<div class="figright" style="width:35%;"><a href= +"images/465-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/465-1.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p class="center">ANOTHER VISIT—AND IN BROAD DAYLIGHT.</p> +<p class="center">MR. AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN.</p> +</div> +<p>After less than an hour's debate the House gave the CHANCELLOR +OF THE EXCHEQUER power to borrow a trifle of two hundred and fifty +millions, to square this year's account, <i>plus</i> an undefined +sum to enable him to fund the floating debt, now amounting to close +on two thousand millions. Even Sir FREDERICK BANBURY had no serious +objection to raise, his chief anxiety being that everyone, and not +merely the plutocratic holders of Treasury Bills, should be +permitted to subscribe to the new loan. Mr. CHAMBERLAIN assured him +that it was a case of "Let 'em all come."</p> +<p><i>Tuesday, June 3rd</i>.—According to the view of Major +WOOD and his friends the Mother of Parliaments is played out. The +Grand Committees which were to have restored her vigour have left +her more enfeebled than ever, and unless she devolves a large part +of her duties upon subordinate assemblies her end is near. But I +noticed that, although Ireland was expressly excepted from their +resolution, most of them talked of little else, and I fancy that +but for Dublin we should not have heard much of devolution.</p> +<p>As a statesman His Grace of CANTERBURY has hitherto enjoyed the +reputation of being "safe" rather than dashing. But that is +evidently a mistake, for in introducing the Bill which is to enable +the Church to free itself from some of the trammels imposed upon it +by the State he begged his hearers not to be afraid of "brave +adventurous legislation." His appeal was quite lost upon Lord +HALDANE, who was shocked by the terrible possibilities of the +measure, and warned the PRIMATE that if the Bill became law he +would have signed the death-warrant of the Establishment. Coming +from a Presbyterian who helped to disestablish the Church in Wales, +this showed the heights of altruism to which a real philosopher may +rise.</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width:35%;"><a href= +"images/465-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/465-1.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p class="center">THE MOTHER OF PARLIAMENTS.</p> +<p>"AM I REALLY SUFFERING FROM SENILE DECAY?"</p> +</div> +<p>Colonel WEDGWOOD was shocked to learn that in the occupied +territories Germans had to take off their hats when addressing +British officers. But it would be a mistake to assume that his +concern was due to any tenderness for our foes. On the contrary, it +was exhibited out of regard for the feelings of British officers. +Mr. CHURCHILL regretted the inconvenience, but pointed out that it +had always been the practice—even in Belgium—for an +Army of Occupation to exact certain acts of respect from the +inhabitants.</p> +<p>Mr. KELLAWAY, who announced last week with such pride that "the +Government have struck oil," was now able to state that the oil had +reached a height of 2,400 feet and was still rising steadily. There +is some talk of inviting the successful engineers to put down bores +at Westminster.</p> +<p><i>Wednesday, June 4th</i>.—Complaint was made recently +that under the new Rules of Procedure Members were expected to be +in three places at once. I fancy that a good many of them settled +their difficulty to-day by betaking themselves to a fourth place, +not in the precincts of the Palace of Westminster.</p> +<p>There was anything but a Grand Parade on the green benches, and +the faithful few who were present put a good many questions "on +behalf of my honourable friend." The Front Benches were well +manned, however, and Mr. LONG had quite a busy time explaining to +Commander BELLAIRS why the Admiralty thought it inadvisable at this +date to hold courts-martial in regard to the Naval losses of 1914. +The House was more interested to hear that the Peace celebrations +will include a Naval procession through London, and that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page466" id="page466"></a>[pg +466]</span> there will be a display in the Thames of war-ships of +various classes, including, possibly, some of those captured from +the enemy.</p> +<p>A feature of the afternoon was Mr. MACQUISTEN'S brief comments +upon Ministerial replies. Divorced from their setting, such remarks +as "Fish is very dear!" (<i>à propos</i> of Admiralty +parsimony in compensating the owners of drifters) or "By +thought-reading?" (when the best method of ascertaining native +opinion on the future of Rhodesia was in question), may not sound +particularly funny, but, when delivered in a voice of peculiar +penetration and "Scotchiness," at precisely the right moments, they +were sufficient to convulse the Benches. Mr. MACQUISTEN must be +careful or he will soon be a spoiled DARLING.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/466.png"><img width="100%" src="images/466.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Waiter (at public dinner, to very hot and red-faced +diner</i>). "I'M GOING NOW, SIR. ANYTHING MORE I CAN GET YOU? +BRANDY OR PORT? NO, SIR? SHALL I GET YOU A COOL CHAIR, SIR?"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"Cigar smokers will be interested very much in the likelihood of +that luxury being soon dearer than ever.... It will most likely +develop into a habit of getting the very last whiffff ffffout of +every cigar."—<i>Provincial Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The printer would seem to be practising already.</p> +<hr /> +<h3>"HOW TO HEAR MUSIC."</h3> +<p><i>(With humble acknowledgments to the critic of "The +Times.")</i></p> +<p>We were grateful to Mlle. Snouck Hugronje for giving us an +opportunity of hearing the Violin Concertos of Prenk Bib Doda in C +sharp minor, and of Basil Tulkinghorn in the composite key of F.E. +The latter work, we may explain, is dedicated to Lord BIRKENHEAD. +Doda's work is so rarely played that Mr. ERNEST NEWMAN has wittily +suggested that he ought to be renamed Dodo. But let that pass. Here +he is abundantly like himself, rich in self-determining phrases +which emerge from a Hinterland of wild surmise, and tower aloft in +peaks of Himalayan majesty like Haramokh or Siniolchum +—— Mr. CANDLER must finish this sentence.</p> +<p>Tulkinghorn is also a master of transcendental effects, and as +relentless in pushing home his points as Mr. SMILLIE when examining +a duke before the Coal Commission. But he is not always to be +trusted. He lacks the architectonic faculty. In between the +clusters of clear-cut phrases there are too many nebulae of gaseous +formation and spiral type, which deflect the orbital movement of +his essentially electronic melody and impair its impact on the +naked ear.</p> +<p>But when Mlle. Snouck Hugronje plays you forget all about +self-determination, syndicalism, guild-control, proletariats, +sunspots and even Mr. SMILLIE. If you are a poet, and we are all +poets nowadays, you dream yourself into a punt on the Sonning +backwater, wondering if the summer was ever so amazing before, +nearly being shipwrecked on a sandy spit, startling moorfowl or it +may be dabchicks, sending a <i>frisson</i> into the fritillaries, +losing and regaining your punt-pole, always believing that the next +bend —— Mr. FILSON YOUNG must really finish the +sentence.</p> +<p>If you are a musician and an occultist you will, by due +concentration of your pineal gland and pituitary body, rise with +the rapidity of a HAWKER to astral altitudes immune from all +mundane disquiet. You will notice —— However, this is +best, left to Mr. CYRIL SCOTT or Sir RABINDRANATH TAGORE or Sir +OLIVER LODGE. But if you are a mere <span class="pagenum"><a name= +"page467" id="page467"></a>[pg 467]</span> listener you will listen +and be thankful. But if you never go to concerts you will still be +able, by the aid of the New Criticism, to attain to an ecstasy of +appreciation far greater than if you had relied on the crude medium +of your senses.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href= +"images/467.png"><img width="100%" src="images/467.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Niece</i>. "BUT AREN'T YOU GOING TO GIVE THAT NICE PORTER A +TIP, AUNTIE? HE'S AN OLD SOLDIER."</p> +<p><i>Aunt</i>. "<i>EXACTLY</i>, MY DEAR. MUCH TOO POLITE TO BE +UNPLEASANT TO ONE."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h3>THE CONSCRIPTION OF BRAINS.</h3> +<p>PROGRESS OF THE COMMISSION.</p> +<p>The Literary section of the Nationalisation Commission met last +Friday. Before evidence was taken the Chairman, Mr. ROBERT +WILLIAMS, said that as their Report must be delivered in less than +a week the Commission had decided not to summon Lord MORLEY, Lord +ROSEBERY or Mr. THOMAS HARDY, but hoped in the few days still +available, to hear the evidence of Sir THOMAS HALL CAINE, Lady +WARWICK, Mrs. BARCLAY, Mr. SPACKMAN and Mr. SMILLIE.</p> +<p>Mr. EDWARD MARSH read an interesting Report on the State +Remuneration of Poets. He was of opinion that poets, if they could +be shown to be of the authentic Georgian brand, ought to be secured +a reasonable salary quite irrespective of the views which they +expressed. They must never be expected to glorify or approve of the +CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, but should be perfectly free to +criticise or attack him. No attempt should be made to impose any +metrical constraint on their verse. But he thought it desirable +that for the purpose of bringing them to the notice of the public a +State chaperon should be appointed to provide suitable +introductions and biographical details. He also advocated the +multiplication of poetry tea-shops, where pure China tea and +wholesome confectionery should be supplied gratis to all poets +whose works had been favourably noticed in <i>The Times Literary +Supplement</i>.</p> +<p>The CHAIRMAN. What is your idea of the minimum wage for +poets?—In view of the present purchasing power of the +sovereign I should put it at eight hundred pounds a year. Modern +poets require an extra amount of nourishment, owing to the nervous +strain involved in production, and their requirements in the matter +of dress are often difficult to satisfy. I understand that the +price of sandals has gone up two hundred per cent.</p> +<p>Mr. CHARLES GARVICE, the next witness, stated that he did not +think the literary quality of novels would be necessarily improved +by nationalisation. Speaking for himself he did not think it would +affect his output. But if the State took over this industry it +should be liberal in affording novel-producers facilities for +obtaining fresh material, local colour, etc. At all costs the +output of salubrious and sedative fiction must be maintained if +only as an antidote to the subversive and revolutionary literature +now freely disseminated among the proletariat.</p> +<p>COLONEL WEDGWOOD. HOW do you expect a workman earning only three +pounds a week to afford seven shillings for every novel that he +buys?—Personally I should like to see the cost reduced, but I +understand that if the price of novels were fixed at one shilling +it would involve the State in an expenditure of ten million pounds +annually, even with the present reduced output of novels, which has +fallen during the War to little over twenty million tons.</p> +<p>Mr. HAROLD BEGBIE declared himself a whole-hearted supporter of +nationalisation. There was something extraordinarily uplifting in +the notion of consecrating one's talents to the State. Publishers +were too often callous individualists. Here one would be working +for humanity. If his interview with the KAISER had been issued +under State sanction he believed that the Peace would have been +signed months sooner.</p> +<hr /> +<h4>Official Candour.</h4> +<blockquote> +<p>"TELEGRAPHIC NOTICE.</p> +<p>Public is hereby informed that delays to and from offices in +Punjab are normal."—<i>Indian Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Same here.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<h4>Our Veterans.</h4> +<p>"London Rifle Brigade, 40 strong, of the 1st Battalion, which +went out in 1814, arrived in London from France at mid-day +yesterday."—<i>Daily Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page468" id="page468"></a>[pg +468]</span> +<h2>A ROYAL INTERVIEW.</h2> +<p>"Someone to see you, Miss."</p> +<p>Thus Mary at about nine o'clock on an April evening at the door +of my tiny sitting-room.</p> +<p>There was a strange little quiver in her voice.</p> +<p>Mary is so extremely well trained, and so accustomed, moreover, +to queer visitors at the flat, that I looked up in surprise.</p> +<p>"Yes?" I said. "Is it a lady?"</p> +<p>Mary did not reply immediately; she seemed half-dazed.</p> +<p>"Is it a lady?" I repeated a little sharply. My usually +imperturbable parlourmaid appeared to have taken leave of her +senses.</p> +<p>"She said she was a queen, Miss," she gasped.</p> +<p>At that moment the visitor, evidently grown tired of waiting, +calmly floated in through the half-open door and settled down +gracefully in the centre of a large gold cushion lying on the end +of the Chesterfield.</p> +<p>Fortunately I grasped the situation at once.</p> +<p>"Thank you, Mary," I said, with what I now feel to have been +most commendable coolness in the entirely unprecedented +circumstances; "I will ring if I want tea later."</p> +<p>When the door had closed upon the still gasping Mary I turned +apologetically to my visitor.</p> +<p>"I'm so sorry, your Majesty," I said. "You see, my maid was not +unnaturally a little surprised—"</p> +<p>"It's <i>quite</i> all right," said the Fairy Queen graciously; +"I thought you wouldn't mind my coming in."</p> +<p>"Of course not," I said; "I am only too delighted. Won't you +come nearer the fire?"</p> +<p>She looked down at the cushion on which she was sitting, then +she looked up at me and smiled.</p> +<p>"I don't like to leave it," she said; "it's so pretty." And she +stroked the soft gold stuff with her tiny hand.</p> +<p>"Yes," I said; "and your lovely frock goes with it so +beautifully. But how would this be?"</p> +<p>I stooped, gently lifted the cushion with its delicate burden +and put it down on the floor in front of the fire. "There—how +is that?"</p> +<p>"That's delightful," said the Fairy Queen. "I'm so glad you like +my frock," she went on. "Paris, of course. That is to say, the idea +came from there. My own people did the actual making. After all, no +one can touch the French when it comes to real <i>chic</i>. Don't +you think so?"</p> +<p>I acquiesced. Oh, yes, Paris was certainly the best.</p> +<p>"But I didn't come here to discuss clothes," said my visitor. +She made a quick movement and leaned suddenly forward on the +cushion, her delicate golden head supported on her slender hand. +"Do you know the Editor of <i>Punch</i>?" she asked abruptly.</p> +<p>I hesitated. "I can't exactly say that I <i>know</i> him," I +said.</p> +<p>The Fairy Queen looked very disappointed.</p> +<p>"Oh, dear, then I'm afraid it's no good. I thought you'd be sure +to know him."</p> +<p>"But although I don't know him personally I am in communication +with him," I said. "Perhaps—"</p> +<p>She brightened up a little.</p> +<p>"I suppose you <i>could</i> write," she said; "though of course +it would be far better to see him."</p> +<p>"It's about that cover," she went on. I looked at her +blankly.</p> +<p>"The cover of <i>Punch</i>, you know."</p> +<p>Vague pictures of Mr. Punch surrounded by little dancing +figures, an easel, Toby, a lion—surely there was a lion +somewhere—flitted across my mind. What on earth had the cover +of <i>Punch</i> got to do with the Fairy Queen?</p> +<p>I went over to the little table where lay the latest copy, and +came back with it in my hand and knelt down on the floor near the +cushion.</p> +<p>The Fairy Queen came close to me and peered over the edge of the +paper.</p> +<p>"Look at the fairies," she said, pointing with a tiny indignant +finger. "<i>Look</i> at them. They're most dreadfully +old-fashioned. Nobody in fairyland looks in the least like that +now."</p> +<p>I looked. Certainly the little figures had rather an +early-Victorian air about them.</p> +<p>"Of course we should never dream of being tremendously +fashionable or anything of that kind. I would not for one moment +think of allowing any of my court-ladies to cut their hair short, +for instance, or to wear one of those foolish hobble skirts; but +nobody, nobody could accuse us of being dowdy. Now tell me, have +you ever seen one of us looking like that, or like that?"</p> +<p>"But are you quite sure," I said, not without hesitation, for +she was by way of being rather an autocratic and imperious little +person and I was the least little bit afraid of her—"are you +quite sure that they <i>are</i> fairies?"</p> +<p>"Of course they are," she replied quickly. "What else could they +be? Naturally Mr. Punch would have fairies all round him. He loves +us. You have no idea how much we have in common."</p> +<p>I didn't reply at once. I was engaged in staring at the familiar +design.</p> +<p>"They haven't any wings," I said, still rather doubtfully, +"except this one at the bottom."</p> +<p>But the Fairy Queen was very decided indeed. "All fairies don't +have wings," she said; "and with regard to that particular one at +the bottom," she glanced a little superciliously at the buxom lady +with the trumpet, "as a matter of fact, she isn't a fairy at all. I +don't quite know what she is, an angel perhaps, but not a fairy, +certainly not a fairy. But the others are, of course." She glanced +at me a little defiantly with her bright eyes. "Surely, my dear, I +ought to know a fairy when I see one. At the time when these were +done they were perfectly all right; they only want bringing up to +date, like the pictures inside, that's all. Now you will see +whether you can do anything, won't you?"</p> +<p>It was difficult to refuse, but I didn't feel very hopeful.</p> +<p>"I'll try," I said. "I'll write to the Editor; but I'm afraid +it's not very likely that he will do anything in the matter. You +see the cover's been like that for years and years. Almost ever +since <i>Punch</i> began. It's—well, it's part of the +<i>Punch</i> tradition. We all love it. Nobody would like to see it +altered; it wouldn't seem the same thing."</p> +<p>The Fairy Queen was busy with her cloak and didn't pay much +attention to what I was saying,</p> +<p>"Won't you stay a little longer and have some tea or something?" +I begged.</p> +<p>She shook her head.</p> +<p>"A chocolate?"</p> +<p>She smiled. "I can't resist a chocolate," she said. She took a +very little one and nibbled at it daintily, flitting about the room +meanwhile and chattering away in the friendliest fashion in her +tiny high voice.</p> +<p>"I must go," she said at last. "I have enjoyed it so much. May I +come again some day? I should love to come again."...</p> +<p>I went out with her into the little lobby and down the stairs, +and stood at the hall door to watch her go.</p> +<p>"Now don't forget," were her last words as she floated out into +the night. "Tell him, tell him exactly what we really look +like."</p> +<p>"I can't," I called after her desperately; "I can't."</p> +<p>But she had already disappeared in the soft haze. I went slowly +up the stairs and back to my quiet room and the dying fire.</p> +<p>"I can't," I said again. "I only wish I could."</p> +<p>R. F.</p> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"Bandsmen Wanted for Municipal Band. Solo Cornet and others. +Work found for bricklayer, carpenter, painter and +paperhanger."—<i>Daily Paper</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>With whose assistance we may expect some jazzling effects.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page469" id="page469"></a>[pg +469]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> +<h3>LURE OF THE LAND.</h3> +<a href="images/469-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/469-1.png" +alt="" /></a> +<table width="100%" summary=""> +<tr> +<td width="35%">ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WAS A MAN WHO BOUGHT A +FARM—</td> +<td>—BECAUSE AN OPEN-AIR LIFE APPEALED TO HIM—</td> +<td width="35%">—AND BECAUSE IT MADE ONE ONE'S OWN +MASTER—</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/469-2.png"><img width="100%" src="images/469-2.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<table width="100%" summary=""> +<tr> +<td width="35%">—BECAUSE, MOREOVER, HE WAS FOND OF +ANIMALS—</td> +<td width="65%">—AND ALSO BECAUSE ANY AMOUNT OF EXPERT +OPINION WAS ALWAYS AVAILABLE IN CASES OF DOUBT—</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/469-3.png"><img width="100%" src="images/469-3.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<table width="100%" summary=""> +<tr> +<td width="35%">—BECAUSE, AGAIN, THE ELEMENT OF UNCERTAINTY +GAVE SUCH A CHARM TO IT—</td> +<td>—AND, FURTHER, BECAUSE CERTAIN SECTIONS WERE BOUND TO BE +PROFITABLE—</td> +<td width="35%">—IN ADDITION BECAUSE UP-TO-DATE APPLIANCES +MADE EVERYTHING SO EASY—</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/469-4.png"><img width="100%" src="images/469-4.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<table width="100%" summary=""> +<tr> +<td width="65%">—BECAUSE, IN PARTICULAR, IT TOOK ONE BACK TO +NATURE, AND HELPED ONE TO AN UNDERSTANDING OF NATURAL +LAWS—</td> +<td width="35%">—AND, LASTLY, BECAUSE, AFTER ALL, ONE COULD +ALWAYS GET RID OF THE BEASTLYTHING.</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page470" id="page470"></a>[pg +470]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href= +"images/470.png"><img width="100%" src="images/470.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Author</i>. "YOU REMEMBER MY LAST BOOK?"</p> +<p><i>Artist</i>. "THE ONE I ILLUSTRATED?"</p> +<p><i>Author</i>. "YES. WELL, SIR BARNES STORMER WANTS ME TO +DRAMATISE IT FOR HIS NEXT WEST-END PRODUCTION."</p> +<p><i>Artist</i>. "I SAY! THAT'S SPLENDID. I MUST READ IT."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>THE MURMANSK MOSQUITO.</h2> +<p>My particular interest having been aroused by descriptions +recently published in the English Press of the Murmansk mosquito, I +made a point, on my arrival in North Russia with the Relief Force, +of collecting further data from officers whose experience entitles +them to speak with authority upon the habits of the local +fauna.</p> +<p>From them I have gathered some curious information which should +interest even those whose enthusiasm for the phenomena of natural +history is normally but languid, and cannot fail to intrigue not +only the entomologist but also the big game hunter, who would find +it well worth his while to observe and study the tactics of this +sagacious and formidable insect.</p> +<p>Judging from the evidence at my command the true Murmansk +mosquito is considerably larger and fiercer than the Archangel +variety, owing no doubt to the genial influence of the Gulf Stream. +Both types are however sufficiently ferocious, and, save when +rendered comatose by excess of nutrition, will attack human beings +without provocation. The female of the species, if disturbed while +accompanied by her young, will invariably charge with such fury +that only by an exceptional combination of skill and courage can +she be driven off. The shrill and vibrating cry of the Russian +mosquito as it swoops to the attack is, I am assured, qualified to +shake the fortitude of even experienced troops.</p> +<p>So surprising are some of the current stories of the size, +strength and agility of these dreaded carnivora that one would +suspect their veracity were they not vouched for by military and +naval officers, and supported by such concrete evidence as that of +the local architecture. The houses are almost universally +constructed of substantial logs, undoubtedly for the reason that +brickwork would be more easily displaced by the furious assault of +the mosquito, which usually hunts in droves, packs or swarms, and +has been known to surround and make concerted attacks, upon +buildings occupied by particularly well-nourished personnel.</p> +<p>As evidence of the determination of their attacks, veterans of +this front have pointed out to me, in the walls of local buildings, +massive timbers which have been scarred and splintered by the teeth +and claws of these monsters, emboldened by hunger and incensed by +resistance.</p> +<p>The peculiar ferocity of the mosquito of these high latitudes +is, of course, accounted for by the brevity of its actual life. +Immured throughout the prolonged winter within its icy sarcophagus, +it is not released before the middle of June, while the premature +severity of August rapidly lowers its vitality. Such is its +offensive spirit during the first relaxation of wintry rigour that +it is dangerous in the extreme for anyone to walk about alone, for +naturally the mosquito which the sunshine has just liberated, +fasting and impatient, will make a determined effort to partake of +the first likely repast which presents itself. Single newly-thawed +specimens have been known to lie in ambush by frequented paths and +fall upon lonely wayfarers with the desperate courage of +starvation. I am credibly informed that, if duty necessitates an +unescorted journey at this season, it is a wise precaution to +provide oneself with several joints of reindeer flesh, which, in +the event of attack by mosquitoes, may be thrown to them and so +effect at least a temporary diversion.</p> +<p>The revolver is of little service against this formidable +creature, owing to its cunning and the rapidity with which it +manoeuvres, while its bristly hide is stout enough to defy the +ordinary shotgun. It is proposed to detail certain anti-aircraft +batteries to deal with high-flying swarms, while a young friend of +my own, who was with a special company of the R.E. in France, is +prepared to design a haversack projector for issue to all ranks. +But against this it is urged by those familiar with North Russian +towns in summer that nothing of such a nature can materially damage +the <i>moral</i> of the local mosquito.</p> +<p>Thrilling stories are told of escapes from these dangerous +brutes. A senior officer of notoriously full habit of body, having +attracted the attention of several immense specimens, was by them +surrounded in his office, and rescued only just in time by the +gallant efforts of an allied fatigue party which the besieged +officer had the presence of mind to detail over the telephone. +While awaiting (or pending) their arrival he passed through a +period of mental agony (which has left unmistakable marks upon him) +as he listened to the roar of their wings and the crunching of +their fangs upon the outer timbers, or fixed his fascinated gaze +upon the sweep, of their antennae under the front door, where they +were trying for a purchase in order to force an entry.</p> +<p>On another occasion a patrol which was attacked by a large swarm +was only saved by the <i>savoir faire</i> of its commander, who +ordered his men each to ward off the rush of the hungry insects +with a ration biscuit held out to them at arm's length. In their +impetuous ferocity the creatures blindly snapped at the biscuits, +with the result foreseen by the experienced leader; the swarm, with +every appearance of complete demoralisation, broke and fled, +several being weakened by the fracture of their mandibles and +falling an easy prey to the bayonets of the exultant patrol.</p> +<p>With its naturally ardent temperament irritated by months of +bitter cold, its constitutional hunger aggravated by a prolonged +fast, its appetite tempted by a novel diet in the form of British +soldiery well-washed and firm-fleshed after years of Army rations, +the North Russian mosquito is likely, in the opinion of experts, to +take a high place among the more deadly horrors of war.</p> +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page471" id="page471"></a>[pg +471]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href= +"images/471.png"><img width="100%" src="images/471.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Sergeant</i>. "NOW THEN, ARE YOU THE FOUR MEN WITH A +KNOWLEDGE OF MUSIC I WAS ASKING FOR?"</p> +<p><i>Chorus</i>. "YES, SERGEANT."</p> +<p><i>Sergeant</i>. "RIGHT. PARADE OFFICERS' MESS 11.30 TO MOVE +GRAND PIANO TO MARQUEE—DISTANCE 500 YARDS—FOR CONCERT +THIS EVENING."</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> +<p class="center"><i>(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.)</i></p> +<p>That audacious paraphrase of the Book of Job, <i>The Undying +Fire</i> (CASSELL), seems to me to be marred by a fundamentally +false note. I am sure that Mr. WELLS is as serious about his new +God in the Heart of Man as he was about the Invisible +King—I've no sort of intention of sneering—but I cannot +credit him with belief in the Adversary, who by arrangement with +the Almighty (as set forth in a discreetly flippant prologue with +something of the flavour of those irreverent yarns invented and +retailed by Italian ecclesiastics about Dominiddio) visits <i>Job +Huss</i>, the headmaster of Woldingstanton, with the plagues of his +desperate trial. However I take it that the author was anxious that +his parody should be as complete in form as possible, and, being +rather impressed by the insouciance, not to say insolence, of the +Satan of the original, seized his chance of bizarre +characterisation and "celestial badinage" and let consistency go +hang for the time. Certainly the theological disquisitions of Mr. +WELLS are remarkable not for their formal logic, but for their +provocative quality and the very real eloquence of detached +passages of the rambling argument. In particular, taking up again +the thread of <i>Joan and Peter</i>, he gives such a survey of the +scope and glories of a new education that is to salve the world's +wounds as would move the heart of a jelly-fish. Mr. WELLS has his +own methods of justifying the ways of God to man. He may be +discursive, impatient, rash, perhaps a little shallow; but he has +an undying fire of his own. He is certainly not dull. And therefore +orthodox divines and pedagogues may perhaps have a real grievance +against him. But I can't imagine any serious-minded man in a +serious time reading this book and not getting hope and courage +from it.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p><i>Victory Over Blindness</i> (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) is a book +whose title gives you at once the key to its contents and to the +spirit that animates them. It is the record by Sir ARTHUR PEARSON +of one of the most finely successful enterprises that the War has +called forth. Everyone to-day has at least a vague idea of the work +carried on at St. Dunstan's, "the biggest individual business," Sir +ARTHUR terms it, "that I have ever conducted." A study of these +pages will transform that vague idea into wonder and admiration. +Big the business might well be called, since it is nothing less +than the bringing back, almost to normal life, of men apparently +condemned to an existence of helpless inactivity and dependence. +Few things will strike you more forcibly in this book than its +practical common sense. That and an unsentimental optimism seem to +be the dominant notes of all Sir ARTHUR'S effort. Without doubt the +success of this has been beyond measure helped by the fact that the +originator was himself a sharer in the adversity that it was +designed to lessen. Two chapters especially in the book, called +"Learning to be Blind," a brief manual of practical suggestions by +one whom experience has rendered expert, supply a clue to the +difference between the work at St. Dunstan's and the +best-intentioned efforts of outside sympathy, <i>Victory Over +Blindness</i> is a proud and rewarding motto; this little volume +will show how thoroughly it has been earned.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page472" id="page472"></a>[pg +472]</span> +<p>I fancy that Miss JOAN THOMPSON had some design of +symbolism in the choice of a name for her heroine, <i>Mary +England</i> (METHUEN). The publishers indeed consider that she +might be called "Every Woman," so typical is she of her sex, and +"so like to the emotional careers of so many English girls is her +own." Perhaps, on the other hand (without disparagement to the +skill of Miss THOMPSON'S portraiture), I should have expected the +typical maiden of <i>Mary's</i> class to show greater initiative. +Many things nearly happened to <i>Mary</i>; practically nothing in +her life was fashioned by her own intent. Of the two men who might +have made her happy, one didn't propose at all, and one did it in +the wrong fashion. Other two, who seemed possibly menacing, both +drifted away with their evil purpose (if any) unfulfilled. I am +wrong, though, in recalling <i>Mary</i> as invariably passive. She +was once roused to the action of destroying the manuscript of a +novel, in which the writer, the man who didn't propose, had too +faithfully revealed his perception of herself. But though, as a +reviewer, I may applaud this achievement on general grounds, it +provided no kind of solution for the problem of her existence. This +was left to be settled, very much offhand, by a detached iceberg, +which sank the ship in which <i>Mary</i> was emigrating. I thought +that iceberg rather an evasion on the part of Miss THOMPSON. +Perhaps however all this effect of drift is part of a subtle +intention. I can certainly call the book admirably written, with +restraint and an emotional sympathy that impressed me as the +outcome probably of an intimate knowledge of the scenes and persons +described. Whether her lethargy is "typical" or not, as a study +<i>Mary England</i> will hold you at least sufficiently curious to +deplore its arbitrary end.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Sir HARRY JOHNSTON has written a book which I find it difficult +to define. His publishers and Mr. H.G. WELLS call it a novel, but +bits of a biography and an autobiography and an African explorer's +account of his travels have all somehow squeezed themselves into +it, and for readers whose birthdays began before the last quarter +of the nineteenth century <i>The Gay-Dombeys</i> (CHATTO AND +WINDUS) will best justify itself as a <i>chronique scandaleuse</i>. +To penetrate the thin disguises in which the author has dressed his +notabilities and to sort the composite or hybrid personalities into +their component parts should provide the initiated with congenial +if not very edifying occupation. The reader who is also a DICKENS +enthusiast will be, according to temperament, delighted or outraged +to find that Sir HARRY JOHNSTON has made his book as it were a +continuation of <i>Dombey and Son</i>. Many of his characters are +either the creations of Boz or their children and he contrives to +carry on the interweaving of their lives to an unbelievable +extent—even when the fullest allowance has been made for the +smallness of the world. <i>Florence Dombey</i> and <i>Walter +Gay</i>, as <i>Mr.</i> and <i>Mrs. Gay-Dombey</i>, actually survive +well into the present book, while Sir HARRY JOHNSTON'S <i>Eustace +Morven</i>, who tells us that he has reverted to the ancient +spelling of his name, is the son of <i>Harriet Carker</i> and that +hazel-eyed bachelor, <i>Mr. Morfin</i>, who lived and loved in +<i>Dombey and Son</i>. But save in the chapter describing +<i>Eustace Morven's</i> appearance at the annual dinner-party given +by <i>Florence</i> and <i>Walter</i> to celebrate the +re-establishment of the firm, Sir HARRY JOHNSTON'S work has not a +very pronounced flavour of DICKENS. It is to be hoped that this +method of writing novels will not become popular. A series of +sequels to everybody by somebody else opens up an intimidating +prospect, at least for the reviewer.</p> +<hr class="short" /> +<p>Mr. PHILIP GIBBS has gathered together, under the title. <i>Open +Warfare, the Way to Victory</i> (HEINEMANN), his despatches written +from the Western front during the last year of the War. What +strikes one most on seeing them again in book form is the obscurity +in which they veil the events they record. They so shine, as it +were, with a luminous mist that they seem to reveal everything, yet +in sober truth very often it is only in the light of later +knowledge that they reveal anything at all. Congratulations, +therefore, to Mr. GIBBS, the perfect war correspondent! I defy +anyone from these papers alone (apart from the plentiful and +excellent maps) to form anything like an adequate conception of the +disaster that swept down upon the British Armies in the Spring of +1918. And yet in a sense it is all there, gorgeously camouflaged +under the control—I daresay the wise and necessary +control—of the censorship. The author, watching the very +moulding of history with every advantage of proximity, has written +down, if not much bare statement, yet an amazing sequence of heroic +detail, associated with such stirring names as Arras or Givenchy or +Cambrai. Curiously enough, though each chapter is intensely vivid, +they become, through much instancing of the same unconquerable +spirit, something monotonous, though never wearisome, in bulk. One +trusts that a future generation will realise that the value of a +book of this order consists in its first-hand record of such +incidents of valour; it would be pitiful to have it hastily +assumed, because so much is slurred or omitted to deceive the +enemy, that England was so feeble-hearted as to require her evil +news predigested before consumption in this manner. It should be +added that the writer gives us a good sound introduction that goes +a long way to fill the yawning gaps.</p> +<hr /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"><a href= +"images/472.png"><img width="100%" src="images/472.png" alt= +"" /></a> +<p><i>Gatekeeper (at castle of unpopular baron—to new +grocer's boy).</i> "YOU SILLY IDIOT! WHY DON'T YOU GO ROUND TO THE +TRADESMEN'S GATE? GOOD THING YOU DIDN'T PULL THE BELL, OR YOU'D +'AVE GOT A 'ALF TON OF BOILING LEAD ON TOP OF YOU. THIS IS THE +<i>VISITORS'</i> DOOR!"</p> +</div> +<hr /> +<blockquote> +<p>"GIRL WANTED.—A reliable girl for the summer months to go +across the Arm."—<i>Halifax Evening Mail</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>To prevent misapprehension we ought to say that the western part +of the bay at Halifax, Nova Scotia, is locally known as the +"Arm."</p> +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +156, June 11, 1919, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 11670-h.htm or 11670-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/6/7/11670/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Sandra Brown and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +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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