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diff --git a/16563-h/16563-h.htm b/16563-h/16563-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0dcd3a1 --- /dev/null +++ b/16563-h/16563-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2352 @@ +<!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 http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + + <title>Punch, March 3rd, 1920.</title> + + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + p.center {text-align: center;} + p.author {text-align: right; margin-top: -1em; margin-right: 5%;} + p.right {text-align: right; margin-right: 5%;} + .i16 {margin-left: 8em;} + 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%;} + + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .note + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem 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.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + .poem p.i12 {margin-left: 6em;} + .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;} + .figure p.in, .figcenter p.in, .figright p.in, .figleft p.in + {margin: 0; text-indent: 8em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + --> + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 158, +March 3rd, 1920, 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. 158, March 3rd, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: August 20, 2005 [EBook #16563] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Keith Edkins and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 158.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>March 3rd, 1920.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page161" id="page161"></a>[pg 161]</span> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + + <p>A lunatic who recently escaped from an asylum was eventually + recaptured in a large dancing-hall in the West-End. The fact that he was + waltzing divinely and keeping perfect time with the music aroused the + other dancers' suspicions and led to his recapture.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>The latest type of Tank, Mr. <font class="sc">Winston Churchill</font> + informed the House of Commons, weighs thirty tons and can pass over a + brick without crushing it. It is said to be modelled on the Profiteering + Act.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>The proposal of the <font class="sc">Home Secretary</font> to add + fifty per cent. to taxi-cab fares and abolish the initial charge of + sixpence is said to find favour both with owners and drivers. The men in + particular have always chafed at the necessity of messing about with + small silver.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Much sympathy is felt locally for the man who in the excitement caused + by the declaration of the poll at Paisley lost his corkscrew.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"The ex-Kaiser was responsible for the War," says the <i>Kölnische + Zeitung</i>. Our Hush-hush Department seems to have grown very lax of + late.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A welcome case of judicial sympathy is reported from West London. It + appears that a Society lady charged with shop-lifting pleaded that she + was the sole support of two kennel-ridden poodles, and was immediately + discharged.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>The Press reports the existence of miles and miles of war-material in + huge dumps near Calais and Boulogne. War Office officials, we hear, are + greatly relieved, as they have been trying for several months to remember + where they had left the stuff.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A lady with small capital would like to meet another similarly + situated, with a view to the joint purchase of a reel of thread.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>At Jerusalem a tree has been uprooted whose fall is locally believed + to presage the destruction of the Turkish Empire. It is only fair to the + tree to point out that if it had known of this it would probably, like + the Government, have changed its mind at the last minute.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"One of the problems of civilized humanity," says a writer in <i>The + Daily Mail</i>, "is the avoidance of pain-producing elements in ordinary + diet." Nowadays it is impossible to eat even so simple a thing as a + boiled egg in a restaurant without the risk of being stung.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>The identity of the gentleman who, under the initials "A.G.," recently + advertised in the Press for the thyroid gland of <i>Proteus + diplomaticus</i> remains unrevealed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>It appears that the Government have undertaken not to engage in any + more war with the Bolshevists, if they, for their part, will endeavour to + quell the peace which is still raging.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"Englishmen will never forget America," says a Service paper. For + ourselves we had hoped that the American bacon affair was closed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A burglar broke into a barrister's chambers in the Temple last week. + We understand that he got away without having any money taken off + him.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A woman who said she had had six husbands asked a London magistrate to + grant her a separation. It is supposed that she is breaking up her + collection.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Owing to the thick fog experienced in London, last week several + daylight hold-ups were unavoidably postponed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>With the present fashion in ladies' wear many owners of beautiful + brooches are in the unhappy position of having nothing to attach them + to.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>In order to raise funds for the building of a new church-porch in a + Birmingham parish a member of the committee suggested the sale of small + flags in the street. Struck by the originality of this novel idea the + chairman agreed to go into the matter in order to see if it was + practicable.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>A farmer writing from Bridgnorth, Salop, to a daily paper states that + he has a tame fox which guards the house at night and shepherds the sheep + by day. We understand that the Dogs' Trade Union takes a serious view of + the whole matter, but is not without hope of being able to avert a + strike.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>The real value of co-operation was illustrated the other day on the + Underground Railway when a lady complained that a straphanger was + standing on her foot. Word was immediately passed down the carriage, with + the result that by a combined swaying movement in one direction the + offender was enabled to remove his foot.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>It is estimated that three hundred and forty thousand persons made + fortunes out of the War. Of these it is only fair to say that the number + who actually encouraged the War to happen are few. The vast majority + simply allowed it to come along and do its worst.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>The Corporation of London made £18 on the sale of waste paper in the + year 1919-1920, as compared with over £9000 in the year 1918-1919. It + looks as if in the last-named year the Corporation was in communication + with a Government Department.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>"Why will not Scotsmen eat eels?" asks <i>The Manchester Guardian</i>. + We cannot say, but we have always understood that the attitude is + reciprocal.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/153.png"><img width="100%" src="images/153.png" + alt="Have you an--er--hats?" /></a> + "<font class="sc">Have you any—er—hats?</font>" + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>The Post-War Hero.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It was a stainless patriot, who could not bear to fight</p> + <p>For England the oppressor, or own that she was right;</p> + <p>But when the War was over, to show his martial breed,</p> + <p>He shot down three policemen and made a woman bleed.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page162" id="page162"></a>[pg 162]</span> + +<h2>PAISLEY TO THE RESCUE OF +THE COALITION.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>The <font class="sc">Prime Minister</font> to Mr. <font class="sc">Asquith</font></i>)</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Welcome, for Old Long Since's sake,</p> + <p class="i2">Home to your ancient seat!</p> + <p>It needed only this to make</p> + <p class="i2">My cup of joy complete;</p> + <p>The weary waiting time is past;</p> + <p class="i2">The yawning vacuum is mended;</p> + <p>And here we have you back at last—</p> + <p class="i2">Oh, <font class="sc">Herbert</font>, this is splendid!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>As one whose wisdom overflows</p> + <p class="i2">With human nature's lore,</p> + <p>You know they make the keenest foes</p> + <p class="i2">Who have been friends before;</p> + <p>We loved as only Liberals do</p> + <p class="i2">Until their rival sabres rattle</p> + <p>And Greek joins Greek (like me and you)—</p> + <p class="i2">Then is the tug of battle.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>As an old Parliamentary hand</p> + <p class="i2">Familiar with the ropes,</p> + <p>Those perils you will understand</p> + <p class="i2">With which a Premier copes</p> + <p>Whose big battalions run to seed,</p> + <p class="i2">Having indulged a taste for slacking,</p> + <p>And let their muscles moult for need</p> + <p class="i2">Of foemen worth the whacking.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Such was my case. By habit's use</p> + <p class="i2">They still obeyed the whip,</p> + <p>But loyal zeal grew limp and loose</p> + <p class="i2">And things were left to rip;</p> + <p>I had no hope to stay the rot</p> + <p class="i2">And fortify their old affections</p> + <p>(Save for the stimulus they got</p> + <p class="i2">From losing by-elections).</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Daily I took, to keep me fit,</p> + <p class="i2">My tonic in <i>The Times</i>;</p> + <p>Daily recovered tone and grit</p> + <p class="i2">Reading about my crimes;</p> + <p>But one strong foe is what we lack</p> + <p class="i2">To put us on our best behaviour;</p> + <p>That's why in you I welcome back</p> + <p class="i2">The Coalition's saviour.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i16">O.S.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>AUCTION IN THE SPACIOUS TIMES.</h2> + + <p>"It is Our Royal pleasure to will and declare one diamond," said the + <font class="sc">Virgin Queen</font>, when the Keeper of the Privy Purse + had arranged her hand for her. Sir <font class="sc">Walter + Raleigh</font>, who sat on her left, was on his feet in a twinkling. + "Like to like, 'twas ever thus," he murmured, bowing low to his + Sovereign. "I crave leave to call two humble clubs, as becometh so mean a + subject of Your Majesty," It is not known whether his allusion to the + <font class="sc">Queen's</font> call was intended to refer to the diamond + rings upon <font class="sc">Her Majesty's</font> fingers or to the + scintillating glint in <font class="sc">Her Majesty's</font> eyes, but + she inclined her head graciously in acknowledgment of his remarks before + turning to her partner.</p> + + <p>"What say you, my Lord of <font class="sc">Leicester</font>?" she + asked. "Wilt support a poor weak woman?" His Lordship, however, looked + down his noble nose and said nothing for quite a long time. He found + himself, to use a vulgar phrase, in the <i>consommé</i>. His hand + contained the ace, king and six other spades, nothing to write home about + in hearts or clubs, and one small diamond. To take from his partner the + right to play the hand would be the act of a fool—the mere thought + made him raise a hand to his neck as though to assure himself of its + continuity. Even failure to support her call would be looked on as + ungallant, if nothing worse.</p> + + <p>"How now, sirrah? Art sleeping in Our presence?" prompted the <font + class="sc">Queen</font> sharply.</p> + + <p>The <font class="sc">Earl</font> swallowed noisily once or twice, just + to show that he was awake, and then plunged.</p> + + <p>"An it please you, Madam, two diamonds," he muttered, with but a sorry + show of his habitual arrogance.</p> + + <p>"Double!" said Sir <font class="sc">Francis Drake</font> in crisp + seamanlike tones, whereat the Earl of <font class="sc">Leicester</font> + was seen to fumble for the hilt of his rapier.</p> + + <p>"Stay, my Lord," his liege commanded; "'tis true the Knight hath left + his manners in Devonshire, or on the Spanish main mayhap, but keep your + brawl for an hour and place more fitting. We redouble."</p> + + <p>A momentary silence followed the <font class="sc">Queen's</font> + discourse, cut short by the uncouth ejaculation "'Ods fish!" which + escaped from Sir <font class="sc">Francis</font> apparently without his + consent. He embarked on an apology at once, based on the fact that he was + but an honest sailor; but, meeting with no encouragement, he gave it up + and fell to sucking his teeth.</p> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Walter</font> meanwhile made good use of the + interval to perfect a flower of speech signifying, in a manner worthy a + courtier of his reputation, that he was content. His effort drew from the + <font class="sc">Queen</font> a glance as nearly approaching the "glad + eye" as any that august spinster was ever known to dispense. The Laird of + Kenilworth announced that he also was content; but historians should + accept the statement with reserve. Sir <font class="sc">Francis</font> + either wasn't sure whether the rules of the game allowed him to double + again, or else had just enough tact not to do so. The game then + proceeded.</p> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Walter</font> led the ace of clubs. The + appearance of the noble lord's solitary little diamond, as he laid down + his hand, was greeted by a loud hiccough from the old salt, and the <font + class="sc">Queen</font> herself was only saved from swooning by the + timely administrations of a page with a flask of sal-volatile.</p> + + <p>When, fourth in hand, she trumped the honest sailor's ace, her partner + had the hardihood to make conventional inquiry as to whether she had any + clubs. <font class="sc">Her Majesty</font> uttered in reply the one + dreadful word, "Treason," thus avoiding with true statesmanship any + direct answer to the question, and indicating clearly her opinion of his + two-diamond call. The Keeper of the Privy Purse shot out a lean hand and + gathered in the trick.</p> + + <p>With the help of the ace of spades in dummy, the ace of hearts in her + own hand, and a discriminating use of her Royal prerogative in the matter + of following suit, all went well until the odd trick had been won. After + that, however, Sir <font class="sc">Francis</font>, who had not doubled + without good reason, proceeded to deal out six diamonds, led by the ace, + king and queen. His partner unwisely allowed his feelings to get the + better of him. "As <font class="sc">Will Shakspeare</font> hath it," he + observed with unction, "'now is the winter of our discontent made + glorious summer—'" but stopped on a sudden, with ears and scalp + twitching horribly.</p> + + <p>"Ho without! Summon the guard!" roared the last of the Tudors, and + immediately an N.C.O. and six private beef-eaters appeared on the scene. + "Convey Our compliments to the Governor of the Tower," she continued, + addressing the N.C.O., "and bid him confine the Earl of <font + class="sc">Leicester</font> during Our pleasure. My Lord," she added, + turning to her luckless partner, "'twere well, methinks, you should have + leisure in which to reflect on the folly of trifling with a woman."</p> + + <p>It is greatly to the <font class="sc">Earl's</font> credit that at + this point he made strenuous endeavours to surrender his sword in + accordance with the drill-book, but as it refused to come out of its + scabbard he was obliged to unbutton the frog from his belt and hand over + the weapon complete with leather gear. This formality achieved, he was + led away to durance vile.</p> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Francis</font>, poor fellow, fared scarcely + better than the Earl. "Begone to sea, Sir Knight," hissed the <font + class="sc">Queen</font>; "mayhap the Dons will teach you more becoming + manners. Begone, I say, and look to 't your ships return not empty, else + shall you not receive payment of your winnings."</p> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Francis</font> went.</p> + + <p>A glance at the pitiable condition of Sir <font + class="sc">Walter</font> caused <font class="sc">Her Majesty's</font> + heart to soften somewhat. "Come, Sir," she cooed, "an arm, prithee, and + We will seek a place where you may read to Us the mummings of this + strange bard, <font class="sc">Will Shakspeare</font>."</p> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Walter</font> at once regained control of his + nerve-centres and escorted <font class="sc">Her Majesty</font> from the + painful scene.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page163" id="page163"></a>[pg 163]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/155.png"><img width="100%" src="images/155.png" + alt="THE ELUSIVE PEST." /></a> + <h3>THE ELUSIVE PEST.</h3> + + <p class="center"><font class="sc">John Bull.</font> "GOT HIM!"</p> + + <p class="center"><font class="sc">The Profiteer.</font> "I DON'T + THINK!"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page164" id="page164"></a>[pg 164]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/156.png"><img width="100%" src="images/156.png" + alt="Nothing wrong with my eyesight?" /></a> + <div class="i16"> + <p><i>Patient.</i> "<font class="sc">And you really think there is + nothing wrong with my eyesight?</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Oculist.</i> "<font class="sc">Nothing at all. Perfectly + normal</font>."</p> + + <p><i>Patient.</i> "<font class="sc">Ah, then it must be the way I've + been holding my putter</font>."</p> + </div> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>GEORGE AND THE COW-DRAGON.</h2> + + <p>The "rockerty-tockerty-tock" refrain of the carriage-wheels below me + changed into a jarring whine as the train came to a full stop. I looked + out on a dim-lit platform which seemed to be peopled only by a squad of + milk-cans standing shoulder to shoulder like Noah's Ark soldiers.</p> + + <p>As the engine shrieked and plunged into its collar again the door was + jerked open and a man projected himself into the carriage and, opening + the window so that the compartment was flooded with cold air, leaned out + and resumed his conversation with a friend till the train bore him out of + shouting range. He then pulled up the window, trod on my foot, sat on my + lap and eventually came to rest on the seat opposite me.</p> + + <p>It was a small man, red of head and bright of eye. He wore his cap at + the back of his head, so as to exhibit to an admiring world a + carefully-cultured curl of the "quiff" variety, which was plastered + across his forehead with a great expenditure of grease. His tie was a + ready-made bow of shot-colours, red, green, blue and purple, and from his + glittering watch-chain hung many fanciful medals, like soles upon a + line.</p> + + <p>"Brother-in-law to me," he remarked, jerking his thumb towards the + back-rushing lights of Exeter.</p> + + <p>"Who?" I inquired.</p> + + <p>"That young feller I was talking to just now. Didn't you see me + talking to a young feller?"</p> + + <p>"Oh, yes, I believe I did hear you talking to somebody."</p> + + <p>"Well, him. Married a sister to me, so he's my brother-in-law, ain't + he?"</p> + + <p>"Certainly."</p> + + <p>"Well, you're wrong then. He's only a half-brother-in-law, because she + is only a half-sister to me, her ma marrying my old man. Understand?"</p> + + <p>I said I did and pulled up my rug as a signal that I was going to + sleep and the conversation was at an end.</p> + + <p>"Anyhow, whatever he is, he's good enough for her."</p> + + <p>I remarked that that was most satisfactory and closed my eyes.</p> + + <p>He drew out a yellow packet of cigarettes, selected one and held them + in my direction. I declined and again closed my eyes.</p> + + <p>"Very good, please yourself, it's one more for little Willie. All I + can say is that you're foolish not taking a good fag when it don't cost + you nothing. You don't catch me refusing a free fag even when I don't + want to smoke. I takes it and puts it in my cap for when I do. Pounds + I've saved that way, pounds and pounds."</p> + + <p>He lit his limp tube of paper and mystery, stamped out the match and + spat deliberately on the floor.</p> + + <p>"See me do that?"</p> + + <p>I nodded with as much disgust as I could contrive.</p> + + <p>"Know what them notices say I can get for that? Fined or + imprisoned."</p> + + <p>He paused for me to marvel at his daring.</p> + + <p>"Think I'm mad to take risks like that, don't cher? Well, I aren't + neither. They couldn't catch me out, not they."</p> + + <p>He brushed some ash off his lap on to mine and winked sagely.</p> + + <p>"Suppose the guard was to come in here and start fining and + imprisoning me for it, do you know what I'd do? I'd swear <i>you</i> did + it."</p> + + <p>"But I should deny it," I retorted hotly.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page165" id="page165"></a>[pg 165]</span> + + <p>"Of course you would, old chum, and I shouldn't blame you neither, but + you wouldn't stand no chance against me"—he leaned forward and + tapped me on the knee as though to emphasize his words—"<i>I could + lie your life away</i>."</p> + + <p>He sank back in his seat, his face aglow with conscious superiority. + The clamour of the wheels increased as if they were live things burning + with the fever of some bloodthirsty hunt.</p> + + <p>"Firing her up," said the red man; "always racing time, these + passenger wagons. It's a dog's life and no blooming error." He prodded my + foot with his. "I said 'it's a dog's life and no error.'"</p> + + <p>"What is?" I growled.</p> + + <p>"Engine-driving, of course. I'm on the road myself. Goods-pushing just + now, but I've been on the expresses off and on, though it don't suit + me—too much flaring hurry."</p> + + <p>He rattled off into technicalities of his trade, embroidered with + tales of hair-bristling adventures and escapes.</p> + + <p>"Yes, old chum, there's more in our trade than what most fat-headed + passengers thinks. As long as an accident don't occur they don't know + what trouble we've been to avoiding of it. I've a good mind to give 'em a + smash-up now and again just to teach 'em gratitood. F'instance, me and me + mate was running a local down Ilfracombe way last week when what d'you + think we runned into?"</p> + + <p>"Ilfracombe?" I hazarded sleepily.</p> + + <p>"An old cow! Now what d' you think of that?"</p> + + <p>"It was so much the worse for the coo," I quoted.</p> + + <p>"What say?"</p> + + <p>"It was so much the worse for the cow."</p> + + <p>"Worse for the cow?"</p> + + <p>"So <font class="sc">George Stephenson</font> said, and he invented + the locomotive and ought to know, you'll admit."</p> + + <p>The little man stared at me, his mouth open; for once he seemed bereft + of words. We had slowed to a momentary stop, in a small station and + pulled out again before he regained control of his tongue, then he broke + loose.</p> + + <p>"No, I don't admit it neither. I don't care if your friend George + invented the moon, he talks like a fool, and you can tell him so from + me."</p> + + <p>"I can't, unfortunately; he's—"</p> + + <p>"A chap that talks disrespectful and ignorant of cows like that didn't + oughter be allowed to live. A cow is one of the worstest things you can + run up against. I'd rather run into a row of brick houses than one of + them nasty leathery old devils; and you can hand the information to your + chum George."</p> + + <p>"I tell you I can't; he's—"</p> + + <p>"Ask any driver or fireman on the road, and if he don't slip you one + with a shovel for your withering ignorance he'll tell you just what I'm + telling you now. Yes, you and your funny friend."</p> + + <p>"Look here, <font class="sc">George Stephenson</font> has + been—"</p> + + <p>"Let your funny friend try running into a cow just for 'speriment. + Just let him try it once. They tangle up in your bogies, all slippery + bones and hide, slither along with you a yard or two, and the next thing + you know is you're over an embankment and your widder is putting in for + insurance. Tell your pal George from me."</p> + + <p>The brakes ground on and the lights of a station flickered past the + windows.</p> + + <p>"My gosh!" exclaimed the red-headed man, springing to his feet, "this + is Cullumpton, and I ought to have got out at the station before." He + wrestled with the door-handle. "And it's all through sitting here + listening to your everlasting damfool chatter about you and your friend + George."</p> + + <p>"Who died forty years before I was born," said I. "Good night."</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Patlander.</font></p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:66%;"> + <a href="images/157.png"><img width="100%" src="images/157.png" + alt="Hard work never killed anybody." /></a> + <p><i>Robinson.</i> "<font class="sc">It's about time you chaps started + to do something. Hard work never killed anybody.</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Mendicant.</i> "<font class="sc">You are mistaken, Sir. I lost + three wives through it.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page166" id="page166"></a>[pg 166]</span> + +<h2>WIZARDS: KLINGSOR AND ANOTHER.</h2> + + <p>"Another <i>Parsifal</i> ought to be written from the angle of + Klingsor, who was an enlightened Arabian, physician, scientist and + probably Aristotelian.... The Knights, and Wagner with them, call him a + wizard, which was a crude mediæval way of 'slanging' any man who + preferred knowledge to superstition."</p> + + <p>This remarkable utterance by the musical critic of <i>The Daily + Mail</i> in the issue of February 25th has created a sensation in the + political world fully equal to that caused by the announcement of Mr. + <font class="sc">Asquith's</font> return for Paisley. Scientific and + artistic circles have also been deeply moved.</p> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Philip Sassoon</font>, Mr. <font class="sc">Lloyd + George's</font> new secretary, interviewed by our representative, said + that the tribute to his chief was all the more welcome considering its + source. His only criticism was that, instead of calling the charge of + wizardry a "crude mediæval" mode of invective, he should prefer to style + it an ultra-modern application of the art of obloquy.</p> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Oliver Lodge</font>, in a wireless message from + New York, entirely approved of <i>The Daily Mail's</i> reading of <font + class="sc">Klingsor's</font> character. He was clearly a scientist and a + spiritualist of remarkable attainments. The defection of <i>Kundry</i> to + the side of the Knights was a sad instance—but not without modern + parallels—of the unrelenting pressure exerted on weak women by the + zealots of orthodoxy.</p> + + <p>Mr. A.B. <font class="sc">Walkley</font> said that he had long + suspected <font class="sc">Klingsor</font> of being a + crypto-Aristotelian, but the arguments of the writer in <i>The Daily + Mail</i> had converted his suspicion to a certainty. He proposed to deal + with the matter more fully in an imaginary dialogue between <font + class="sc">Klingsor</font> and Sir <font class="sc">Oswald Stoll</font> + (who was a devout follower of <font class="sc">Herbert Spencer</font>) + which would shortly appear in <i>The Times</i>.</p> + + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">Devant</font> professed himself delighted with + the vindication of <font class="sc">Klingsor</font>, who was undoubtedly, + like <font class="sc">Roger Bacon</font>, a first-rate conjurer, far in + advance of his time, and with limited resources was yet capable of + producing illusions which would not have disgraced the stage of St. + George's Hall.</p> + + <p>The Archbishop of <font class="sc">Canterbury</font> excused himself + from pronouncing a definite opinion on the subject, but pointed out that + it would doubtless come within the purview of the inquiry into + Spiritualism undertaken by high clerical authority.</p> + + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">Jacob Epstein</font> made the gratifying + announcement that he was engaged on a colossal statue of Mr. <font + class="sc">Lloyd George</font> in the character of the modern + <i>Merlin</i>. His treatment might not commend itself to the leaders of + Nonconformity in Wales, but his own artistic conscience was clear, and he + felt he could count on the benevolent sympathy of the Northcliffe + Press.</p> + + <p>The Editor of <i>The Times</i> strongly demurred to the statement that + <font class="sc">Klingsor</font> was an Arabian. The great authority on + <font class="sc">Klingsor</font> was the anonymous thirteenth-century + epic poem on <i>Lohengrin</i>, the father of <i>Parsifal</i>, and he had + no doubt (1) that the author was either a Czecho-Slovak or a Yugo-Slav; + (2) that <font class="sc">Klingsor</font>, as the etymology suggested, + was of the latter race. In these circumstances the attempt to establish + an affinity between Mr. <font class="sc">Lloyd George</font> and <font + class="sc">Klingsor</font> was nothing short of an outrage, which might + have disastrous results on our relations with the new States of Central + Europe.</p> + + <p>Mr. J. <font class="sc">Maynard Keynes</font> observed that the + characterisation of Mr. <font class="sc">Lloyd George</font>, implicit in + the defence of <font class="sc">Klingsor</font> made by the musical + critic of <i>The Daily Mail</i>, indirectly confirmed his own + impressions. It was true that the <font class="sc">Premier</font> did not + physically resemble an Arab sheikh, and his knowledge of medicine, + science or philosophy, to say nothing of geography, was decidedly jejune, + but the sad case of President <font class="sc">Wilson</font> made it all + too clear that he was capable of exerting a hypnotic influence on his + colleagues. Mr. <font class="sc">Keynes</font> did not think Mr. <font + class="sc">Lloyd George</font> was an Aristotelian; he preferred to + consider him an unconscious Pragmatist. This view he proposed to develop + in his forthcoming volume on the Subliminal Conscience of + Nonconformity.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>TO JAMES (MULE) WHO HAS PLAYED ME FALSE.</h2> + + <p>[Many mules are appearing upon the streets of London and are showing + an extraordinary and unexpected docility amidst the traffic.]</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>James, when I note your air supremely docile,</p> + <p class="i2">Your well-fed look of undisturbed content</p> + <p>(Doubtless you find this land an adipose isle</p> + <p class="i2">After lean times on active service spent),</p> + <p>I do not join with those who hymn your praises</p> + <p class="i2">For calmness mid the turmoil of the town;</p> + <p>I find myself consigning you to blazes—</p> + <p class="i6">James, you have let me down.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For I am one who, after having striven,</p> + <p class="i2">A hero (<i>vide</i> Press) though far from bold,</p> + <p>Has come back home and, naturally, given</p> + <p class="i2">Artistic touches to the tales he's told;</p> + <p>The Transport was my scene of martial labours;</p> + <p class="i2">That was the section where I saw it through;</p> + <p>And I have told astonished friends and neighbours</p> + <p class="i6">Some lurid yarns of you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>You are the theme I have been wont to brag on;</p> + <p class="i2">I've told how you, my now innocuous moke,</p> + <p>Would chew the tail-board off a G.S. wagon</p> + <p class="i2">By way of mere <i>plaisanterie</i> (or joke);</p> + <p>Dubbed you most diabolical of ragers,</p> + <p class="i2">A rampant hooligan, a fetid tough,</p> + <p>A thing without respect for sergeant-majors—</p> + <p class="i6">That is to say, hot stuff.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Full many a fair young thing I've seen displaying</p> + <p class="i2">A sympathetic pallor on her cheek</p> + <p>And wonder in her eye, when I've been saying</p> + <p class="i2">How almost every day in Salonique</p> + <p>You jazzed with me on brinks of precipices;</p> + <p class="i2">But when I talk to-day they cannot fail</p> + <p>To think of you in town and murmur, "This is</p> + <p class="i6">A likely sort of tale."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>To take, without one thought of evil plotting,</p> + <p class="i2">Even without one last protesting kick,</p> + <p>Thus kindly to somnambulistic trotting—</p> + <p class="i2">Oh, James, old pal, it was a dirty trick;</p> + <p>To show the yarns I'd told of you and written</p> + <p class="i2">(In letters home) were not entirely swank</p> + <p>At very least, I think, you might have bitten</p> + <p class="i6">The policeman at the Bank.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Boat Race "Intelligence."</h4> + + <p>"The Oxford University crew arrived at Henley yesterday for a week's + practice. The Cambridge president, Mr. E.A. Berrisford, accompanied the + crew as spare man."—<i>Provincial Paper.</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"The Government, said Mr. Bonar Law, had not received any intimation + from the Netherlands Government that Holland had decided to keep the + ex-Kaiser in Curaçoa."—<i>Evening Standard.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>Good news for Mr. <font class="sc">Pussyfoot</font>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"<font class="sc">Essex</font> and <font class="sc">Sussex + Borders</font>.—To be Let, well-built Mansion, surrounded by fine + gardens, situate in one of the finest parts of this delightful + country."—<i>Daily Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>But it must be rather a nuisance to cross the Thames every time you + want to go from the Essex to the Sussex wing.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page167" id="page167"></a>[pg 167]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/159.png"><img width="100%" src="images/159.png" + alt="MANNERS AND MODES." /></a> + <h3>MANNERS AND MODES.</h3> + + <p class="center">TYPICAL COSTUME FOR AN EARNEST WORKER IN THE CAUSE OF + CHARITY.</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page168" id="page168"></a>[pg 168]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/160.png"><img width="100%" src="images/160.png" + alt="BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND." /></a> + <h3>BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND.</h3> + + <p>THE RAGE EXHIBITED BY AN AUTHOR WHILE HAVING ONE OF HIS NOVELS + FILMED IS UTILISED BY THE INTELLIGENT MANAGER OF THE FILM COMPANY FOR A + NEW "THREE-REEL COMIC," ENTITLED "HOW AUTHORS WORK."</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>SUZANNE'S BANKING ACCOUNT.</h2> + + <p>"These want paying," said Suzanne as she bounced into my nominally + sacred den at a strictly prohibited hour. Therewith she thrust a + <i>dossier</i> of tradesmen's bills into my feebly-resisting hands, and + bang went an idea I had been tenderly nursing since breakfast.</p> + + <p>"But I can't spend the rest of the morning writing cheques," I + protested. "I'm engaged just now on a most important article."</p> + + <p>"With your eyes shut," commented Suzanne, stooping to a grossly unfair + insinuation. "I must tell Cook to make the breakfast coffee stronger in + future; then you might manage to—"</p> + + <p>"Look here, Suzanne, you've been married to me long enough to know my + methods of work. I can't begin an article until I've got the whole thing + shaped in my mind, and to do that I must shut out everything else."</p> + + <p>"Especially your wife, I suppose. Well, I won't stay. You've got all + the bills there; but don't start writing the cheques till you've got them + well shaped in your mind."</p> + + <p>"But what on earth does all this mass of accounting literature + represent?" I asked.</p> + + <p>"For the benefit of new readers a synopsis is attached," said Suzanne. + "They're mostly small items; for instance, Madame Pillby—she's the + little dressmaker round the corner, you know; though why an all-British + spinster should call herself 'Madame' I can't + imagine—five-and-fourpence-ha'penny."</p> + + <p>"Suzanne; I will <i>not</i> write a cheque for + five-and-fourpence-ha'penny! Are they all like that?"</p> + + <p>"The biggest is two guineas; that's what it cost to have my last + dance-hat altered to your specifications, because you said it tickled + your nose. There are seventeen of them in all—bills, not hats; + total, twelve pounds fifteen shillings and elevenpence three farthings, + pa-pa."</p> + + <p>"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," I said. "I'm going to advertise + in the Personal Columns of the papers that I will not be responsible for + payment of any debts incurred by my wife under the sum of one pound. + That'll stop this half-crown cheque nuisance. Why don't you go out and + buy yourself a packet of assorted postal-orders?"</p> + + <p>"I did once; but I got in with a nice long list just before + closing-time, and there was very nearly a riot on both sides of the + counter."</p> + + <p>"Well, anyhow, this sort of thing has got to stop; I can't waste all + the morning settling your miserable little bills. What we'll do is this: + you shall have your own banking-account, and in future you can write your + own cheques—as long as the Bank will stick it."</p> + + <p>"Oh, how perfectly splendid!" cried Suzanne. "I've always wanted to + have a cheque-book of my own, but Father thought it unsexing. Do let's go + and take out the licence at once."</p> + + <p>The precious hour of fertilisation was already wasted, so there and + then I escorted Suzanne to the Bank. At my demand we were ushered into + the Manager's room, where we were received with a courtesy only too + obviously tempered by the suspicion that I had come to suggest an + overdraft. On my explaining our errand, however, the Manager's features + relaxed their tenseness, and as I wrote the cheque that brought Suzanne's + account into a sordid world he even attempted a vein of fatherly + benediction.</p> + + <p>"Now we shall require a specimen of the lady's signature," he said as + he produced an amazingly obese ledger and indicated where Suzanne was to + sign her name. "Remove the glove, please," he added hastily.</p> + + <p>"Just like old times in the vestry," said Suzanne to me in a whisper. + Then she wrote her name—"Suzanne Désirée <span class="pagenum"><a + name="page169" id="page169"></a>[pg 169]</span> Beverley + Trumpington-Jones"—all of it. By the time she had finished she had + trespassed into several columns reserved for entirely different uses. The + Manager surveyed the effect with consternation.</p> + + <p>"Rather a long name, isn't it?" he asked diffidently. "I was only + wondering if our cheque-forms would accommodate it all."</p> + + <p>"Well, I'm not really responsible for it all," she replied. "The + Trumpington-Jones part is the more or less permanent result of a serious + accident when I was little more than a child. But I might shorten it a + bit. I sometimes answer to the name of Soozles, but I suppose that would + only do for really intimate cheques. How would 'S. Beverley T.-Jones' do? + I shouldn't like to lose the 'Beverley' as it's a kind of family + heirloom, and I always use it, even when I'm writing to the sweep."</p> + + <p>I edged away to the window and left them to settle the signature + question among themselves.</p> + + <p>"And what kind of cheques would you like—'Order' or 'Bearer'?" I + next heard the Manager asking.</p> + + <p>"Show me some patterns, please," commanded Suzanne.</p> + + <p>On the wall was a frame containing a number of different cheque + varieties, to which her attention was directed.</p> + + <p>"Haven't you any other colours?" she asked. "I thought a + black-and-yellow cheque would be rather becoming; but don't bother about + it if it's not in stock."</p> + + <p>She ended by taking one book of blue and one of purple cheques, and + with these and a paying-in-book (which she said would do so nicely for + spills) we at last departed. From behind the closed door of the private + office I distinctly heard a prolonged sigh of relief.</p> + + <p>A few days later I came upon Suzanne sitting at her writing-table and + examining a cheque with a mystified air.</p> + + <p>"Anything wrong?" I asked.</p> + + <p>"I don't quite know," she replied. "I sent Angela this cheque the + other day to pay for my ticket for the Law-Courts' Revel, and she says + the Bank people have returned it to her. And it's marked 'R.D.' in red + ink. Who is 'R.D.'?"</p> + + <p>"He's the gentleman who censors cheques; and he has a way of + disqualifying them when there's not enough cash to pay them. Suzanne, + what have you done with all that money I paid into your account last + Monday?"</p> + + <p>"But I've only paid those footling little bills. There must be tons of + money left, unless the Bank's been speculating with it."</p> + + <p>"Let me have a look at that cheque," I said.</p> + + <p>She handed it to me and I examined it carefully.</p> + + <p>"I see it's signed 'Thine, Suzanne.'"</p> + + <p>"But that's how I always sign myself to Angela," she said; "and the + Manager distinctly told me to use my customary signature."</p> + + <p>"Signature—not signatures," I explained gently. "They're rooted + in convention at the Bank and can't bear the least approach to variety. + And what's this scribbled on the back of it?"</p> + + <p>"Oh, that's only a note I dashed off to Angela telling her what I was + going to wear. It seemed such a pity to waste a sheet of notepaper when + there was all that space to spare."</p> + + <p>I gave her a quarter-of-an-hour's lesson in the art of drawing + cheques. Then I took up the paying-in book which was lying on the table. + I knew it ought to be in a virgin state as I had added nothing to the + entrance money. "And what might all these figures portend?" I asked.</p> + + <p>"Those? Oh, that's baby's weight-chart. I'm always going to keep it + there."</p> + + <p>Well, well, if Suzanne looks after the weighing-in I can at least + control the paying-in. And I left it at that.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/161.png"><img width="100%" src="images/161.png" + alt="The O.B.E." /></a> + <div class="i16"> + <p><i>Brown.</i> "<font class="sc">What did they give old Slowcombe the + O.B.E. for?</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Jones.</i> "<font class="sc">The 'Other Beggars' Energy,' I + imagine.</font>"</p> + </div> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page170" id="page170"></a>[pg 170]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/162.png"><img width="100%" src="images/162.png" + alt="The best education that money can buy." /></a> + <p><i>Fond Parent</i> (<i>who has done pretty well in woollens</i>). + "<font class="sc">Well, Sonny, we've decided to give you the best + education that money can buy. After all, you won't have to do anything + except be a gentleman.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h3>IF THE ARMY ADVERTISED.</h3> + +<p class="center">BATTALION ORDERS.</p> + + <p>(1) <i>Duties, Officers.</i>—Orderly Officer for to-morrow: + Second-Lieutenant W. Jenks.</p> + + <p>W. Jenks is prepared to undertake duty for any brother subaltern. + Terms—one day's pay, plus fifty per cent. for Saturdays or Sundays + (handsome discount for cash in advance). Sleepless activity. Guards + visited courteously but firmly. Any unusual occurrence handled with + precision and despatch. Engage W. Jenks to do your duty, then sign your + report with a clear conscience. Testimonials from all ranks.</p> + + <p>(2) <i>Parades.</i>—0830 hours and 1130 hours, as per + routine.</p> + + <p>Hello! Hello!! Hello!!! Come in your hundreds. Amusing and + health-giving. Bracing barrack-square; magnificent pedestrian exercise. + Come and be experimented on by Sergt.-Major Whizbang, the great military + spellbinder. See the Adjutant put Company Commanders through the hoop. + Screams of laughter at every performance. Best places in the ranks for + those who arrive early. Twice daily (Sundays excepted) till further + notice. Breakfast kept for those attending first house.</p> + + <p>(3) <i>Dress, etc., Officers.</i>—Attention is again drawn to + recent instructions on these matters.</p> + + <p>Why invite trouble when the local A.P.M. is simply yearning to advise + you on points of etiquette? A kindly benevolent man who never forgets + that he himself was once a regimental officer. He will tell you whether + or not you may arm your aged grandmother across a busy London street + without risking your commission. If you favour whiskers, call and see his + inimitable museum of permissible patterns. Always at your service.</p> + + <p>(4) <i>Musketry.</i>—The next party to fire General Musketry + Course will proceed on the 2nd prox.</p> + + <p>The finest form of outdoor sport (for these who prefer it to any + other) is shooting. We are making up a little party to proceed to camp + next week. Will you join us? Sylvan scenery; country air; simple + wholesome diet; young and cheery society. Cigars or cocoanuts every time + you hit the bull's-eye. Practice at stray dogs about camp is encouraged. + Secure the skin of one of these beautifully-marked creatures for your own + barrack-room bedside.</p> + + <p>(5) <i>Hair, Length of.</i>—The practice of allowing the hair to + grow beyond the regulation length must cease.</p> + + <p>Why suffer the inconvenience of long hair when our own regimental + tonsorial artist is waiting to bob it for you free of charge? Luxurious + saloon; deft workmanship; no tips. His speciality—memento locks. + Twelve such souvenirs guaranteed from one crop. Bald soldiers supplied to + taste from surplus clippings. A delicate, lasting and inexpensive + compliment to lady friends on leaving a station. Start collecting + now.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Inns of Court Reserve Corps.</h4> + + <p>A psychical séance of the above disembodied Corps will be held on + Friday the 26th March, in the Common Room of the Law Society in Chancery + Lane (by kind permission of the Council), commencing 7.30 <font + class="sc">p.m</font>.</p> + + <p>Astral members desirous of attending should apply to their late + Platoon Sergeants, or to Mr. H.L. <font class="sc">Bolton</font>, 1, The + Sanctuary, Westminster.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page171" id="page171"></a>[pg 171]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/163.png"><img width="100%" src="images/163.png" + alt="THE RETURN OF THE EX-CHAMPION." /></a> + <h3>THE RETURN OF THE EX-CHAMPION.</h3> + + <p><font class="sc">Mr. Lloyd George.</font> "WELCOME BACK! I'VE BEEN + WANTING A SPARRING PARTNER TO GET ME INTO CONDITION; AND YOU'RE THE + VERY MAN."</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page173" id="page173"></a>[pg 173]</span> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + + <p><i>Monday, February 23rd.</i>—The Highland Fling involves, I + understand, some complicated figures, but it is nothing to the Lowland + Reel (<font class="sc">Coats</font>' variety), on which subject Sir <font + class="sc">Auckland Geddes</font> was rather badly heckled this + afternoon. A suggestion that Messrs. <font class="sc">Coats</font> might + use the profits of their foreign trade to reduce the price to the home + consumer drove the harassed Minister into an unconscious <i>mot</i>. + "Suppose," he said, "they cut the thread ... where should we be + then?"</p> + + <div class="figright" style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/164-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/164-1.png" + alt="THE TANK AND THE LITTLE BRICK." /></a> + THE TANK AND THE LITTLE BRICK. + + <p class="center">(<font class="sc">Mr. Churchill and Captain Wedgwood + Benn</font>.)</p> + + <p>"The tank, weighing thirty tons, is able to pass over a brick lying + on the road without crushing it. This is a very important + point."—<i>Mr. <font class="sc">Churchill</font></i>.</p> + </div> + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">Charles Palmer</font>, the well-known + <i>Globe</i>-trotter, has just completed a remarkable journey. Within the + space of a few weeks he has traversed the distance from the Press Gallery + to the Floor of the Chamber, going round by the Wrekin. During the last + stage of the route the intrepid traveller was accompanied by Sir <font + class="sc">Henry Dalziel</font> and Mr. <font + class="sc">Bottomley</font>.</p> + + <p>In introducing a Vote on Account of the Army for a trifle of + seventy-four millions the <font class="sc">War Minister</font> proudly + announced that Britain and Germany were the only countries in the world + that had abolished conscription—and Germany's action was not + exactly voluntary.</p> + + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">Churchill's</font> description of a new tank, so + fast that it could outstrip a foxhound "over a country," so cool that + even in the tropics its crew would preserve their <i>sangfroid + traditionnel</i>, and so delicately sprung that it could run over a brick + without hurting itself—or the brick—momentarily encouraged + the belief that here was the weapon to make war impossible. But almost in + the same breath Mr. <font class="sc">Churchill</font> stated that + simultaneously the War Office had invented a rifle grenade which would + put the super-tank out of action. "As you were!"</p> + + <p>Criticism was not entirely disarmed. Mr. <font + class="sc">Devlin</font> of course talked of Ireland—"the only + country with which the Empire is at war to-day;" and little Capt. <font + class="sc">Wedgwood Benn</font> rebuked Mr. <font + class="sc">Churchill</font> for his unfilial sneer at "pious America," + and was himself advised "not to develop more indignation than he could + contain."</p> + + <p><i>Tuesday, February 24th.</i>—In both Houses the new policy of + the Allies in regard to Soviet Russia was unfolded. The gist of it is + that they will not enter into diplomatic relations with the Bolshevist + Government until it is ready to adopt civilised methods, but in the + meantime will heartily encourage trade with Russia. It would seem that + the practical genius of our race has once more discovered a means of + indulging sentiment without interfering with business.</p> + +<br clear="all" /> + + <div class="figright" style="width:45%;"> + <a href="images/164-2.png"><img width="100%" src="images/164-2.png" + alt="THE LABOUR LORD CHANCELLOR." /></a> + THE LABOUR LORD CHANCELLOR. + + <p class="center"><i>A forecast.</i></p> + + <p class="center"><font class="sc">Lord Haldane.</font></p> + </div> + <p>Lord <font class="sc">Birkenhead</font> (not <font + class="sc">Brokenhead</font>, by the way, as the <i>Cork + Constitution</i>, inadvertently or not, calls him) chaffed <font + class="sc">Lord Haldane</font> on his "How Happy could I be with Either" + attitude between Liberalism and Labour, and advised him definitely to be + off with the old love and on with the new, in order that when Labour came + into its own the Woolsack might be adequately filled.</p> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Alfred Mond</font> did not allow himself to be + perturbed by the description of certain pictures in the Imperial War + Museum as "freaks" and "libels," for he had observed "with some + astonishment" that most of the art critics had pronounced them to be very + fine works of art. But when Mr. <font class="sc">Jeremiah MacVeagh</font> + asked if some of these pictures were not portraits of Cabinet Ministers, + "and if so how can they possibly be works of art?" the First + Commissioner's artistic conscience was stirred, and compelled him to give + the questioner a little instruction in first principles. "Whether a + portrait is a work of art depends," he pointed out, "on the artist and + not on the subject painted."</p> + + <p>The evening was devoted to drink. Sir <font class="sc">John + Rees</font>, who urged the abolition of all wartime restrictions, would + have been more effective, perhaps, if he had not striven so hard to be + lively. One of his sallies, evoked by the impending <i>début</i> of Lady + <font class="sc">Astor</font> as a Parliamentary orator, was indeed, as + she observed, "more than polite."</p> + + <p>She herself had her moments of gaiety, but was best, I thought, when + seriously arguing for the continuance of the restrictions on alcohol in + the special interests of women.</p> + + <p>I am afraid, however, that the unregenerate were more intrigued by Mr. + <font class="sc">Carr's</font> claim that the Carlisle experiment <span + class="pagenum"><a name="page174" id="page174"></a>[pg 174]</span> had + been a great success—"it was the only city in the country in which + a man could buy a bottle of whisky to take home."</p> + + <p><i>Wednesday, February 25th.</i>—Question-time in the Commons + was dominated by the news that Mr. <font class="sc">Asquith</font> was in + for Paisley, and Members were more concerned in discussing the effect of + his return upon the Government and Opposition than in listening to + Ministerial replies. Sir <font class="sc">Donald Maclean</font> was "all + smiles" over his approaching release from the responsibilities of + leadership; but Mr. <font class="sc">Hogge</font>, I thought, looked + rather like <i>Mrs. Gummidge</i> when "thinking of the old 'un."</p> + + <p>A nod from Mr. <font class="sc">Macpherson</font> and the Government + of Ireland Bill was formally and silently introduced—strange + contrast to the long debates and exciting scenes that attended the birth + of the Bill's three predecessors in 1886, 1893 and 1912.</p> + + <p>Sir <font class="sc">Robert Horne</font> explained with his usual + clarity and persuasiveness the new Unemployment Insurance Bill. The + debate on it was interrupted to allow the discussion of a motion by Sir + J. <font class="sc">Remnant</font> advocating the increase of police + pensions to meet the present cost of living. The police are, with good + reason, very popular with the House. In vain the <font class="sc">Home + Secretary</font> pointed out that the Government even in this cause did + not feel justified in "out-running the constable." Forgetting all their + recent zeal for economy Members trooped into the Bobbies' Lobby and beat + the Government by 123 to 57.</p> + + <div class="figright" style="width:33%;"> + <a href="images/165.png"><img width="100%" src="images/165.png" + alt="A work of art." /></a> + <p>"Whether a portrait is a work of art depends on the artist and not + on the subject painted."—<i>Sir A. <font class="sc">Mond</font> + on the Imperial War Museum Pictures</i>.</p> + </div> + <p>The idea that Irishmen, however much they may dislike British rule, + never miss an opportunity of raiding the British Treasury, has received a + rude shock. Captain <font class="sc">Redmond</font>, inquiring about the + allocation of a sum of a quarter-of-a-million for reconstruction in + Ireland, was surprised to learn that ten thousand pounds had been + allotted to his own constituency, but not claimed. Mr. <font + class="sc">Devlin</font> supplied the key to the mystery: "The reason it + was not asked for was because we did not know it was there."</p> + + <p>I learn from <i>Who's Who?</i> that the recreations of Sir <font + class="sc">Alfred Mond</font> include "golf, motoring and all forms of + sport." It must have been with keen regret, therefore, that he felt + himself compelled to refuse facilities for cricket in Hyde Park, owing to + the risk to the public. Viscount <font class="sc">Curzon</font> asked if + cricket was more dangerous than inflammatory speeches. But the <font + class="sc">First Commissioner</font>, speaking no doubt from personal + experience, expressed the view that there was considerably more danger + from a cricket-ball.</p> + + <p>The Opposition had rather bad luck on the Constantinople debate. If + they had waited till Monday, as originally arranged, they could have + trained their big gun from Paisley on to the Government entrenchments. + Through insisting on the earliest possible date, they had to content + themselves with the far lighter artillery of Sir <font class="sc">Donald + Maclean</font>. Much, however, was hoped from Lord <font + class="sc">Robert Cecil</font>, who was believed to be heavily charged + with high explosives. But before he could come into range up jumped Sir + <font class="sc">Edward Carson</font>, and in a few brief sentences + pointed out that until the <font class="sc">Prime Minister</font> had + told them the grounds for the decision to leave the Turk his capital, and + the conditions under which he was to stay there, the House was talking in + the air. Members thereupon clamoured for the <font class="sc">Prime + Minister</font>, who accordingly had to make his defence when he had + heard only half the indictment, and to expend most of the ammunition he + had prepared for Lord <font class="sc">Robert</font>, including some + remarkable specimens of the "deadly parallel," before receiving his + adversary's fire.</p> + + <p>That in turn rather upset Lord <font class="sc">Robert's</font> plan + of campaign, and he was not much more destructive than Sir <font + class="sc">Donald Maclean</font> had been. The House as a whole seemed + satisfied that the Allies had done their best with a problem for which + there is no perfect solution, and that there was at least a chance that + the <font class="sc">Sultan</font> would find the guns of an + international fleet pointing at his palace windows a strong incentive to + good behaviour.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Another Lady M.P.?</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Mr. Asquith was accompanied by Mrs. Asquith and the audience singing + 'He's a jolly good Lady Bonham-Carter.'"—<i>Scotch Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> +<hr /> + +<h2>A FANCY BIRD.</h2> + + <p>When any friend of mine is in trouble I always make a point of writing + and asking if there is anything I can do. As a rule, there isn't, but it + is a satisfaction to me to know I have made the offer. When I heard that + Filmer was leaving his spacious house and grounds at Hampstead, selling + half his furniture and moving into a third storey flat at Battersea, I + wrote at once. I received in reply one of his usual barely decipherable + scrawls: "Yes, old dear, you might find a home for my raven; it's ancient + and a bit rusty, but lots of life in it yet. I'm parting with all my + garden things."</p> + + <p>I busied myself about the matter at once. When a man you have known + and respected for years is driven by high prices and income-tax to vacate + a beautiful home and asks such a simple thing of you as to find a shelter + for his bird, you like to do your best. Personally I knew nothing of + ravens, but I recognized the inadequacy of my garden for the + accommodation of a bird of any kind, therefore I could not think of + taking it. But I had a surface acquaintance with the owner of a carriage + drive, and I approached him without delay. He was cold in his manner and + said with so many calls upon him he could not see his way to contribute + towards the expense of Filmer's move, although he had no doubt, from my + representation, that it was a deserving case.</p> + + <p>The misunderstanding arose from my leading up to the object of my + visit gradually instead of coming to the point at once and asking him to + give a comfortable home to a raven. When I explained further he unbent + and said he would think it over.</p> + + <p>Later he wrote:—</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Re</i> <font class="sc">Raven</font>.</p> + + <p>"<font class="sc">Dear Sir</font>,—I have consulted an authority + on this bird and find that its bad character has brought about its + practical extinction in this country save in the mountain fastnesses of + Wales and the craggy moors of Yorkshire. I also learn that its extended + wings measure thirty-six inches on an average. I must decline to provide + an asylum for such an extensive mass of depravity."</p> + + <p>I confess I was discouraged and also somewhat shocked. I felt Filmer + should have enlightened me more on the characteristics of his + <i>protégé</i>. The episode taught me to avoid preamble in my next quest + for a domicile. Also I thought it only right to express myself with + absolute frankness. The address of a lady with a reputation for <span + class="pagenum"><a name="page175" id="page175"></a>[pg 175]</span> a love + of animals was given to me, and I hastened to call upon her. She answered + the door herself.</p> + + <p>"Madam," I said, "may I ask you of your kind heart to give a home to + an almost extinct bird of evil character about a yard across?"</p> + + <p>She looked startled for a moment and then quietly closed the door.</p> + + <p>I was still further discouraged. I felt bound in honour to comply, if + possible, with Filmer's comparatively simple request. By chance I ran + across Timberley, a man brimful of resource and suggestion. "You want a + brewery," he said; "that's the <i>milieu</i> for a raven. To my mind no + brewery is artistically complete without one. A raven hopping about the + casks gives a <i>je ne sais quoi</i>, a <i>cachet</i>, to the premises. + You should get an introduction to a manager."</p> + + <p>With some difficulty I did, and I waited upon him in his private + office. He seemed immersed in business and asked me to be seated in such + a brusque manner that I had no alternative but to remain standing.</p> + + <p>"I must apologise for trespassing upon your valuable time, but it has + been suggested to me that no brewery is complete without a raven—" + I began, stammering slightly from nervousness.</p> + + <p>"Well, we've got one. What about it?" he said.</p> + + <p>In face of this unlooked-for development I could do nothing but bow + and retire.</p> + + <p>After this third failure to house the bird I threw convention to the + winds and took to accosting utter strangers in the street with, "Will you + have a raven?" I went rides in trams and tubes and canvassed the + passengers. "Not to-day, thank you," was the response, save in a few + instances. One man invited me to ask him again and he would do me in. A + lady to whom I propounded the query as we were descending the moving + staircase side by side precipitated herself forward with such haste that + but for the intervening travellers she must have fallen headlong to the + bottom. The mother of a family to whom I appealed shook her head politely + and said she was obliged to me for the offer, but it was hard enough to + pay for butcher's meat; she couldn't afford poultry.</p> + + <p>Then at last, all my efforts having failed, I reluctantly took my pen + and wrote to Filmer. In reply I received another of his + scrawls:—</p> + + <p>"What's this about a raven? Don't let it grow on you. The Victory + Croquet Club is taking my <font class="sc">Roller</font>, £7 carriage + forward. I gave £3 10<i>s.</i> for it second-hand ten years ago.</p> + + <p>"N.B.—I had great difficulty in reading your writing. Don't + cultivate illegibility; it's tiresome for your friends."</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/166.png"><img width="100%" src="images/166.png" + alt="NOT A CELEBRATED COMEDIAN." /></a> + <p>NO, THIS IS NOT A CELEBRATED COMEDIAN TELLING A FUNNY STORY; IT'S + MERELY A PRIVATE CITIZEN THREATENING TO REPORT TO THE PROFITEERING + COMMITTEE.</p> + </div> +<hr /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"Referring to charges of drunkenness the Chairman said there were 13 + men and five women fined for drunkenness and residing at + Chiswick."—<i>Local Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>To reside at Chiswick may be an eccentricity, but surely is not an + offence.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page176" id="page176"></a>[pg 176]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/167.png"><img width="100%" src="images/167.png" + alt="How much for these dozen braces?" /></a> + <p><i>Auctioneer.</i> "<font class="sc">Come, gents, how much for these + dozen braces?</font>"</p> + + <p><i>Tommy.</i> "<font class="sc">Can't take more'n eleven, guv'nor. + Lost my second-best evening trousers on the Somme.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>AT THE PLAY.</h2> + +<p class="center">"<font class="sc">John Ferguson.</font>"</p> + + <p>After the unsatisfying theatre-diet which has fallen to me of late I + was doubly glad to get my teeth into Mr. St. <font class="sc">John + Ervine's</font> good meaty ration at the Lyric Theatre, Hammersmith. His + theme is as old and new as Job. <i>John Ferguson</i> is a saintly Ulster + farmer, apostle of the doctrine of non-resistance (rare type in those + parts, I understand) and eager justifier of the ways of God to men. + <i>Ferguson's</i> beloved farm is mortgaged; foreclosure imminent. Help + is confidently expected from brother <i>Andrew</i> in America, but does + not come. Daughter <i>Hannah</i>, sent with a message to the brutal + mortgagee, is outraged by him. Prospective son-in-law <i>James</i>, man + of great words but little heart, rushes into the night to kill the + ravisher. But it is silent son <i>Andrew</i> (destined for the ministry) + who does the killing, because he knows <i>James</i> to be a craven.</p> + + <p><i>John Ferguson</i> urges confidently the will of God that + <i>James</i>, whom he believes blood-guilty, should not avoid arrest, and + refuses to hide him. But when young <i>Andrew</i> insists on giving + himself up to save <i>James</i> and his own peace the old man's faith, + weakened, falters; he protests in his anguish, but rallies to accept this + last blow from the hand of God—made none the easier to bear by the + arrival, just a fatal fortnight late, of the money from his brother, a + forgetful sort of man, who had mistaken the date of the mail. The tragic + irony of the whole is skilfully heightened by the fact that it is + half-witted "<i>Clutie</i>," with his penny whistle and his random words, + who goads young <i>Andrew</i> to his vengeance.</p> + + <p>A grim tale finely (perhaps just a little too diffusely) told and + admirably presented. Mr. <font class="sc">Ervine's</font> most effective + stroke was, I think, the character of <i>James Cæsar</i>, with his + pathetic yet revolting self-condemnation, interpreted with a real mastery + of art without artifice by Mr. J.M. <font class="sc">Kerrigan</font>, of + the old band of "Irish Players." Miss <font class="sc">Moyna + MacGill</font> (a name new to me) played her <i>Hannah</i> with an + exquisite sincerity and restraint. A particular moment when, from her + hysterical laughter at the careful choice made by her father's God of the + moment for the arrival of the money, she breaks into a passionate "It's + not right! It's not just!" was very fine. The whole character was + skilfully built up. The part by no means played itself.</p> + + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">Herbert Marshall's</font> <i>Andrew</i> was also + an excellent performance. Was it quite right, however, that the morning + after the murder he should appear so completely unruffled? (I admit I + don't know my Ulster intimately). I rather think that Mr. <font + class="sc">Miles Malleson's</font> well-studied "<i>Clutie</i>" might + have been a little less coherent, with more fawning in his manner. He + seemed something too normal for his purpose in the piece. The way in + which the other characters staved off his piping was beyond all praise. I + should guess, from specimens submitted, that his repertory was not + extensive.</p> + + <p>Mr. <font class="sc">Rea</font>, as the father, was of course + competent, but surely a little overplacid throughout. He accepted the + blow of his daughter's dishonour with scarcely a sign that submission + caused him any serious pang—a seeming indifference shared by Miss + <font class="sc">Maire O'Neill</font> (<i>Hannah's</i> mother), who + appeared quite untroubled a few minutes after the harrowing relation, and + indeed seemed throughout to be playing too easily. Mr. <font + class="sc">Raymond Valentine</font> had a "fat" part as the villain, and + well and fatly he played it.</p> + + <p>I realise more than ever the difficulties of an Irish Settlement.</p> + +<p class="author">T.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page177" id="page177"></a>[pg 177]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/168-1.png"><img width="100%" src="images/168-1.png" + alt="Our animal artist..." /></a> + <font class="sc">Our animal artist, after a hard day at the Zoo, goes + home in a non-smoker and falls asleep.</font> + </div> + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/168-2.png"><img width="100%" src="images/168-2.png" + alt="...sleeps so soundly..." /></a> + <font class="sc">He sleeps so soundly that the entry of a big-game + hunter's family fails to disturb him.</font> + </div> + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/168-3.png"><img width="100%" src="images/168-3.png" + alt="...he wakes!" /></a> + <font class="sc">The roar of a passing train fits in with his dreams of + wild animals, and—he wakes!</font> + </div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page178" id="page178"></a>[pg 178]</span> + +<h2>FAME.</h2> + + <p>For a long time past I had felt that something ought to be done about + it, and then one evening as I opened my paper in the Tube I came suddenly + upon the following paragraph:—</p> + + <p>"Lunching yesterday with Jack Poppington at the Bitz, where, by the + way, M. Caramel treated us to a superbly priceless <i>mousse à la + Canadienne</i>, he told me that his <i>Little Pests</i> is selling like + wildfire and proving a real bonanza to the lucky publishers, Messrs. + Painter and Lilley. Had a pleasant chat with him about old times in the + Army Pay Corps, in which we served together for nearly sixteen months + during one of the hottest periods of hostilities 'out yonder.' More + famous amongst the general public for his black ribboned tortoiseshell + monocle and invariable presence at all truly semi-smart Bohemian + functions, Poppington keeps a brindled bulldog, grows primulas and is, of + course, known to a select circle as the energetic Organising Secretary of + the North Battersea Entomological Society."</p> + + <p>The letterpress which I have quoted above was headed "Popular Pap" and + formed a kind of frame for a photograph of Mr. Poppington, which seemed + to show that his luncheon at the Bitz had not really agreed with him + after all, and at the bottom of the column I noted the familiar signature + of "<i>Marchand du Beurre</i>."</p> + + <p>As usual when I read paragraphs of this kind I first of all blushed + guiltily and glanced round to see whether anyone had noticed how eagerly + I was drinking it all in. Then I put on the faint superior smile of + recognition which I felt that the situation obviously demanded. Good old + Poppington! One of the best. What recollections it stirred! + <i>Marchand</i> and he and I—</p> + + <p>When I left the Tube I carefully crumpled the paper up and threw it + away, and in the middle of dinner I took care to remark casually to + Araminta, "By the way, I suppose you put <i>Little Pests</i> on the + library list?"</p> + + <p>"Awfully sorry," she said, "but I'm afraid I hadn't heard of + them."</p> + + <p>"Poppington's latest," I said curtly.</p> + + <p>"I'm afraid I haven't heard of Poppington either."</p> + + <p>I gave a sigh of desperation and leant back in my chair.</p> + + <p>"Well, really!" I protested. "Surely the man + himself—everybody—I mean—his—his + eye-glass—his bulldog—of course only a few of us fully + appreciate the extent of his actual research work—but + still—"</p> + + <p>"All right, I'll get it," she replied.</p> + + <p>That finished off Araminta easily enough, but the situation none the + less was serious. Paragraphs exactly like this had been meeting my eye in + almost every popular paper for month after month, and, though I use two + memory systems and have an electric scalp shampoo each week, I find them + increasingly difficult to cope with. <i>Who's Which</i> already + transgresses the established canons of literary art. It is almost as tall + lying down as standing up, and fellows like Poppington are not even in + <i>Who's Which</i>. He had not, you observed, even obtained an O.B.E. + What would happen if I met him at some public gathering or dinner and by + some awful mischance forgot those salient facts?</p> + + <p>It appeared to me that a process for reproducing short biographies of + this nature in a slightly larger type on the shirt-fronts of eminent + personages was badly needed; it should be coupled, I felt, with an + arrangement of periscopes to help one when sitting beside the great man + or standing behind his back. Or he might perhaps wear upon his sleeve + something like the divisional signs which were so useful in France. Old + Poppington, for instance, might have a—might wear an—I mean + there might be something or other on his coat in red or green or blue to + indicate the nature and scope of his secretarial activities and give a + fellow the right lead. And to think that every week dozens and dozens of + new Poppingtons are springing up like crocuses about me! It was a + bewildering thought. They were becoming perhaps the most numerous and + influential class in the community. I had visions of mass meetings of + "well-known" men—"well-known" men marching in procession with flags + to Downing Street to demand State recognition, statues and pensions, and + insisting that it should be made a penal offence not to recognise their + well-known features in the street. I made a great resolve. Why should I + be left out of it? I determined to join the crowd.</p> + + <p>I had got rather out of touch with old <i>Marchand</i> for some time, + and had indeed forgotten exactly what he looked like, but I persuaded a + mutual friend to point him out to me, and, selecting the psychological + moment, cannoned into him heavily in the street. His spectacles dropped + off and his note-book fell out of his hand.</p> + + <p>"Why, if it isn't <i>Du Beurre</i>!" I shouted, feigning an ecstatic + surprise.</p> + + <p>"I am sorry," he said rather stiffly, when he had recovered his + breath, "but I am afraid I haven't the pleasure—"</p> + + <p>"I am John Smith," I said.</p> + + <p>"I am afraid I still—"</p> + + <p>"Allow me to tell you all about myself," I said. And I did.</p> + + <p>I was a little nervous as to how he would take it, but the event + justified me. When I opened my paper next evening I found the following + words:—</p> + + <p>"Ran across John Smith of Ravenscourt Park yesterday afternoon. + Chatting with him about one thing and another, he told me something of + the methods he has employed to bring about his present celebrity in that + salubrious suburb. He has never, it appears, written a book, collaborated + in a review, appeared in a night-club, lunched at the Bitz, sat on a + committee, or been summoned as a witness in a sensational divorce case. + His record, I fancy, must be one of the most thoroughly unique in Greater + London."</p> + + <p>There was no photograph of John Smith, but, biting partly into this + paragraph and partly into another on the opposite side of the column, was + one of Mortimer Despenser, the new film star, featured in <i>Scented + Sin</i>, which really did almost as well. Dear old <i>Du Beurre</i>!</p> + +<p class="author"><font class="sc">Evoe.</font></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MUSIC À LA MODE.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There was a young singer whose moans</p> + <p>Struck a chill to her auditors' bones;</p> + <p class="i4">So she had to explain</p> + <p class="i4">That she wasn't in pain,</p> + <p>But was trying to sing quarter-tones.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There once was a basso, a swain</p> + <p>Who came from the rolling Ukraine;</p> + <p class="i4">He could sing double D</p> + <p class="i4">From breakfast till tea</p> + <p>Without any symptom of strain.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There was a benevolent peer</p> + <p>Who wished to make Art less severe,</p> + <p class="i4">So he learned the Jazz drum</p> + <p class="i4">And bids fair to become</p> + <p>The black man's most terrible fear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There once was a critic whose bane</p> + <p>Was his dread of a style that was plain,</p> + <p class="i4">So, resolved to refresh us,</p> + <p class="i4">He strove to be precious,</p> + <p>But sank to the nether inane.</p> + </div> + </div> + +<hr /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"<font class="sc">Amateur Snooker Pool Championship: S.H. Fry + Deflated.</font>"—<i>Provincial Paper.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>It was noticed even during the Billiard competition that he never + really got the wind up.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <blockquote> + <p>"The chief obstacle to the development of water-power is usually the + question of finance, and if the scheme will not hold water from that + point of view it is not likely to float."—<i>Electrical + Review.</i></p> + + </blockquote> + <p>And if it holds too much water it is certain to sink.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page179" id="page179"></a>[pg 179]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/170.png"><img width="100%" src="images/170.png" + alt="MORE ADVENTURES OF A POST-WAR SPORTSMAN." /></a> + <h3>MORE ADVENTURES OF A POST-WAR SPORTSMAN.</h3> + + <p><i>Irishman</i> (<i>discussing "roarer" recently purchased by + P.-W.S.</i>). "<font class="sc">Very well known, she was, wid the Ward + Union Stag Hounds. The boys used to call her 'the widda,' for why they + said ye could always hear her sobbin' afther the deer + departed.</font>"</p> + </div> +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</p> + + <p>Undeniably Mr. <font class="sc">Caradoc Evans</font> is the bold boy. + No doubt you remember (since they are so difficult to forget) the two + volumes in which he dealt faithfully (and a bit over) with the manners of + his countrymen in the land of their fathers. I have heard, and can well + believe, that some of Mr. <font class="sc">Evans'</font> own people were + moved by this tribute even to the extent of threatening its author with + personal violence. And now he has turned from Welsh Wales to English + London, and gives us in <i>My Neighbours</i> (<font + class="sc">Melrose</font>) a further collection of sketches pleasantly + calculated to prove that the general detestability of his compatriots + remains unchanged by their migration from a whitewashed cottage to a + villa in Suburbia. Whatever you may think of Mr. <font + class="sc">Evans'</font> work, whether it attracts or violently repels, + there can be no question of its devastating skill. His sketches, no more + than a few pages in length, contain never an idle word, and the phrases + bite like vitriol. Moreover he employs an idiom that is (I conjecture) a + direct transcription from native speech, which adds enormously to the + effect. Understand me, not for worlds would I commend these volumes + haphazard to the fastidious; I only say they are clever, arresting and + violently individual. Also that, if you have not so far met the work of + Mr. <font class="sc">Evans</font>, here is your opportunity, in a volume + that shows it at its best, or worst. Half-an-hour's reading will give you + an excellent idea of it. At the end of that time you will probably send + either to the chemist for a restorative or to the bookseller for the two + previous volumes. Meanwhile, if I were the writer, I should purchase a + bulldog.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Mrs. <font class="sc">George Wemyss</font> has for some time past + specialised in spinster-aunts, bachelor-uncles and charming nieces. In + <i>Oranges and Lemons</i> (<font class="sc">Constable</font>) she + introduces us pleasantly to some more. The plot, in fact, is chiefly + concerned with the violent squabbles of an uncle and aunt, who belong to + different sides of the family, for the good graces of <i>Diana</i> (who + is nineteen, or thereabouts, and radiant), and <i>Shant</i>, (who says + so—just like that—and is five). There are also several young + men. To test his abilities in the <i>Admirable Crichton</i> line + <i>Diana</i> maroons the most favoured of these, together with three + other aspirants to her hand, and her bachelor uncle, on an island in a + Scottish loch, hamperless, on a soft day. As the affections of all the + lovers remain undimmed, you can guess what kind of a girl <i>Diana</i> + must have been. <i>Shant's</i> even more responsible job is to tumble off + a pony and allay the temporary tartness which existed between her two + elderly admirers, so that nothing but oranges and orange-blossoms remain. + Really, of course, none of the story much matters. But if you want the + sensation of having stayed with delightful people in delightful places, + where rising prices are not even mentioned or thought of, Mrs. <font + class="sc">Wemyss</font> can give it you all the time.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p><i>Night and Day</i> (<font class="sc">Duckworth</font>) is the title + of <font class="sc">Virginia Woolf's</font> last book; but there is no + night for the author's <span class="pagenum"><a name="page180" + id="page180"></a>[pg 180]</span> clarity of vision, or her cleverness in + describing every detail she has seen, or her delicate precision of style; + there is only daylight, temperate, pervading, but at times, I am afraid, + almost irritatingly calm. "Give me one indiscretion of sympathy or + emotion on behalf of your characters," the reader is tempted to implore + her; "let me feel that you are a little bit excited about them and I + shall feel excited too." The story, after all, is the simple one (to put + it in the shudderingly crude language of former days) of a girl's change + of heart from an unreal love to one of whose sincerity she eventually + convinces herself. <i>Katharine Hilbery</i>, the granddaughter of a great + poet, brought up by a father whose only interest is in literature, and a + charming mother who wanders in fields of Victorian romance, breaks off + her engagement with a civil servant who has more taste than talent for + letters, and chooses instead a man slightly below her in social position, + but with firmness and decision of character and genuine skill + in—what? Ironmongery? No, literature. All through the book I found + myself wondering whether a mind so finely tempered as <i>Katharine's</i>, + a perception so acute, was really fitted for anything so commonplace as, + after all, love is. And I longed for the authoress, who explained every + mood so amazingly well, to explain this too.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Mrs. <font class="sc">Norris</font> is evidently a specialist in + unconventional situations. In her last novel her theme was the intrigue + between a man and his step-mother. In <i>Sisters</i> (<font + class="sc">Murray</font>) it is the passion of a man for his living + wife's married sister, and in neither case does the author seem to be + conscious of anything out of the ordinary. Not that there is any air of + naughtiness about the business. <i>Peter</i>, a rich cripple, loved + <i>Cherry</i>, the youngest and prettiest of the three <i>Strickland</i> + girls. But <i>Martin</i>, a casual impecunious stranger, stepped in and + took her in one bite before <i>Peter</i> could quite realise she was no + longer a child. So in default he married <i>Alix</i>, who was, + incidentally, worth six of her. Meeting his <i>Cherry</i>, disillusioned + about an unsatisfactory and unsuccessful <i>Martin</i>, he reaches out + his hand for this forbidden fruit. Whereupon <i>Alix</i>, the selfless, + drives herself and <i>Martin</i> over a cliff by way of making things + smooth for <i>Peter</i> and <i>Cherry</i>, which was inconsiderate, if + resourceful; for, while <i>Alix</i> is happily killed, poor <i>Martin</i> + only breaks his back, so that all may end with the balance on the credit + side of the Recording Angel's ledger with <i>Cherry</i> nursing her + hopeless invalid. An unlikely story, pleasantly and competently told.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>My appreciation of <i>The Ancient Allan</i> (<font + class="sc">Cassell</font>) may be measured by my keen disappointment on + finding that the concluding pages of the book were absent in the copy + vouchsafed to me, and that (apparently) in their place a double dose of + pages 279-294 was offered. Nevertheless I can safely assert that you will + find this a yarn worth reading, for here Sir <font class="sc">Rider + Haggard</font> is in as good form as ever he was, when both he and + <i>Allan Quatermain</i> were younger. <i>Lady Ragnall</i>, who is an old + friend to readers of <i>The Ivory Child</i>, reappears here, having in + her possession a mysterious and potent herb, which she persuades + <i>Allan</i> to inhale. Then the fun takes on a great liveliness. + <i>Allan</i> is wafted back to the days when Egypt was under the + domination of the Persians, and he in his ancient existence performed + some of the very doughtiest of deeds. No one living can tell such a tale + with a greater dexterity and zest than Sir <font class="sc">Rider</font>. + And at that I will leave it, with one more regret that I was not allowed + to be present when <i>Allan</i> recovered from the effects of Taduki (the + herb that did it).</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>I find that when the medicine of thought is wrapped up in the jam of + fiction I generally take both more willingly than either alone. But if my + author, holding out the spoonful, protests that the jam isn't jam at all + but part of the dose, then my mouth does not open with quite its usual + happy confidence. Miss W.M. <font class="sc">Letts</font> has said + something of the sort about her great little book, <i>Corporal's + Corner</i> (<font class="sc">Wells, Gardner, Darton</font>), and I wish + she hadn't. It is cast in the form of letters written by a soldier in + hospital to a nurse who has been good to him and whose lover has been + killed at the Front. Miss Letts introduces it with a foreword which + conveys the impression that a real <i>Corporal Jack</i> wrote these + letters to a real nurse; but the letters themselves convince—or + very nearly convince—me that the foreword itself is a mere device + of authorship, and one which defeats its own intention of adding weight + to the wise and tender and often humorous things the writer has to say. + From his own death-bed <i>Corporal Jack</i>, together with his own + love-story and that of his chum <i>Mac</i>, writes what he can of comfort + to his friend, and whether his hand or Miss <font + class="sc">Letts's</font> held the pen the book is the work of someone + who knows all about sorrow, and only the initiated—who must be many + for a decade to come—will know quite how well it is done.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + + <p>Of the late Mr. <font class="sc">Noel Ross</font>, who, to the + infinite loss of British journalism, died at the early age of + twenty-seven, Mr. Punch cannot trust himself to speak with the cold + detachment of the critic. He saw life with the clear eye of happy youth + and set it down with the easy pen of a ready writer. Coming from New + Zealand, through the War, to England, his natural talents were at once + recognised, and he won a position for himself on the staff of <i>The + Times</i>. In the leisure moments spared from the service of the Old Lady + of Printing House Square, he would crack a jest, now and then, with the + Old Sage of Bouverie Street. Mr. <font class="sc">Edwin Arnold</font> now + publishes a collection of his writings under the title, <i>Noel Ross and + His Work</i>, and Mr. Punch confines himself to commending the volume to + his readers.</p> + +<hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/171.png"><img width="100%" src="images/171.png" + alt="SOUVENIR-HUNTERS OF THE PAST." /></a> + SOUVENIR-HUNTERS OF THE PAST. + + <p class="center"><font class="sc">Sir Isaac Newton's Apple.</font></p> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +158, March 3rd, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 16563-h.htm or 16563-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/6/16563/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Keith Edkins and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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