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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 147,
+August 26th, 1914, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, August 26th, 1914
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Owen Seaman
+
+Release Date: September 23, 2008 [EBook #26693]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  PUNCH,
+
+  OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+  VOL. 147.
+
+  AUGUST 26, 1914.
+
+CHARIVARIA.
+
+An eclipse of the sun took place on Friday last. It is supposed to have
+been an attempt on the part of the sun to prevent the Germans finding a
+place in it.
+
+       ***
+
+South Africa has now declared with no uncertain voice that she intends
+to fight under the British Flag, and the KAISER'S vexation on realising
+that the money spent on a certain famous telegram was sheer waste is
+said to have been pitiable.
+
+       ***
+
+We hear, by the way, that HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY is also extremely annoyed
+that so many English people should be resuming their summer holidays at
+the seaside. This is considered a slight on the power and ubiquity of
+the German Navy.
+
+       ***
+
+Some idea of how well the secret of their ultimate destination was kept
+even from the soldiers of our expeditionary force may be gathered from
+the fact that their favourite song on arriving in France was "It's a
+long way to Tip-per-ar-y."
+
+       ***
+
+The German newspapers no doubt perceive in this a reference to our Civil
+War in Ireland.
+
+       ***
+
+We are glad that the lie about the cutting-up of the Black Watch has
+been scotched. May they yet live to be "The Black Watch on the Rhine."
+
+       ***
+
+A gentleman writes to _The Observer_ to mention that an American
+surgeon, on bidding him farewell the other day, remarked, "Blood is
+thicker than water." This statement, coming from a medical man, who
+ought to know, is extremely valuable.
+
+       ***
+
+    "THE GOEBEN'S INGLORIOUS SCUTTLE."
+
+         _Daily Mail._
+
+Yes, and now full of Turkey's coal.
+
+       ***
+
+The London Museum is open again. The Curator, we understand, would be
+glad to add to his collection of curiosities any Londoner who is still
+in favour of a small Navy.
+
+       ***
+
+The Devon and Somerset stag-hounds have stopped hunting, and there is
+said to be a movement on foot among the local stags in favour of passing
+a vote of thanks to a certain mad dog.
+
+       ***
+
+Which reminds us that that rare spectacle, a smile on the face of an
+oyster, may now be seen. It has been decided that the Whitstable oyster
+feast shall not be held this year.
+
+       ***
+
+The Duc D'ORLÉANS has sent back to the AUSTRIAN EMPEROR the collar of
+the Golden Fleece which His Majesty conferred on him in 1896. One can
+understand a Frenchman objecting to being collared by an Austrian.
+
+       ***
+
+It is, as is well known, an ill wind that blows no one any good. As a
+result of the War the proceedings of the British Association are not
+being reported at their usual length in our newspapers.
+
+       ***
+
+Another little advantage arising out of the War seems to have escaped
+notice. Owing to the fact that such Germans as are left among us eat
+much more quietly than formerly in order not to attract attention to
+themselves, it is now possible to hear an orchestra at a restaurant.
+
+       ***
+
+The horse-race habit is, we suppose, difficult to shed. A newsvendor was
+heard shouting the other day, "European War. Result!"
+
+       ***
+
+"An artist who called at a famous firm of etching printers," a
+contemporary tells us, "found the men were away printing bank-notes." We
+trust that they were authorised to do so.
+
+       ***
+
+"Cambridge public-houses," we read, "are to close at 9 P.M." Such dons
+as are still up for the Long Vacation are said to be taking it gamely in
+spite of the inconvenience of accustoming themselves to the new
+regulation.
+
+       ***
+
+Every day one has fresh examples of how the War is putting an end to our
+internecine rivalries. For instance, _The Daily Mail_ is now issuing the
+"Standard" History of the War.
+
+       ***
+
+Some of our contemporaries are referring to the Germans as "Modern
+Huns." We would point out that, as a matter of fact, they are not real
+Huns. They are wrong Huns.
+
+       ***
+
+"Thousands of young men without ties," complains a writer in _The
+Express_, "remain indifferent to the call of their country." We are
+afraid that this is true not only of those without ties, but also of
+some who wear expensive cravats.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: FAIR LOOT.
+
+_John Bull, A.B._ "WELL, I DIDN'T START OUT FOR THIS; BUT THERE CAN'T BE
+ANY HARM IN PICKING UP A GOOD THING."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The idea is to make it possible for every individual to register
+    for himself a number at the General Post Office.... All you do is to
+    address him, say: '105051, care General Post Office,' and the
+    officials look up 05051's latest address and forward the letter."
+
+We fear that this is just what they would do.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The members of Caldicot Wesleyan Church Sunday School had their
+    annual summer tea on Tuesday in a field kindly lent by Mr. W. Howard
+    of Church Farm."
+
+This comes under the heading "War Items" in _The Newport Evening Post_.
+On applying to the Official Press Bureau, however, we were unable to
+obtain from Mr. F. E. SMITH any confirmation of the rumour.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The Chairman put the vote, and there being no answering cries of
+    '!' declared the vote carried _nemine contradicente_."
+
+         _Birmingham Daily Post._
+
+After which the proceedings closed amid approving shouts of
+"[Illustration of pointing finger]."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "A large firm of contractors to hotels points out that a prominent
+    form of waste is eating too much."--_Times._
+
+Conversely, eating too much brings on a prominent form of waist.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Motto for debtors: _Moratorium, te salutamus._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE CALL OF ENGLAND.
+
+    [Every lover of England is bound to give what he can spare--and
+    something more--for the help of those who may suffer distress
+    through the War. Gifts to the National Relief Fund should be
+    addressed to H.R.H. The Prince of Wales, at Buckingham Palace.]
+
+      Come, all ye who love her well,
+       Ye whose hopes are one with hers,
+      One with hers the hearts that swell
+       When the pulse of memory stirs;
+      She from whom your life ye take
+       Claims you; how can you forget?
+      Come, your honour stands at stake!
+        _Pay your debt!_
+
+      By her sons that hold the deep,
+       Nerves at strain and sinews tense,
+      Sleepless-eyed that ye may sleep
+       Girdled in a fast defence;--
+      By her sons that face the fire
+       Where the battle-lines are set--
+      Give your country her desire!
+        _Pay your debt!_
+
+      He that, leaving child and wife
+       In our keeping, unafraid,
+      Goes to dare the deadly strife,
+       Shall he see his trust betrayed?
+      Shall he come again and find
+       Hollow cheeks and eyelids wet?
+      Guard them as your kith and kind!
+        _Pay your debt!_
+
+      Sirs, we should be shamed indeed
+       If the bitter cry for bread,
+      Children's cries in cruel need,
+       Rose and fell uncomforted!
+      Ah, but since the patriot glow
+       Burns in English bosoms yet,
+      Twice and thrice ye will, I know,
+        Pay your debt!
+
+    O. S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A DETERMINED ISLAND.
+
+III.
+                                            _August 19th._
+
+During this season of splendid weather you may be sure that we in
+Totland Bay have not been idle. We swim, men, women and children, and we
+perform great feats of diving from the moored rafts which the
+authorities have kindly provided for that purpose. And we toil off on
+the usual picnic parties and inhale great draughts of health as we lie
+on our backs on the heather-clad slopes of the hill. But even while we
+pursue these simple pleasures our thoughts are with the great warships
+in their ceaseless vigil in the North Sea or with the gallant fellows
+who slipped away under cover of the night and are now taking their place
+in the fighting line with our French and Belgian friends. England, too,
+it seems, can perform a great operation of war on sea and land, and can
+do it with a swiftness, a precision and a silence that no other nation
+could surpass. So we hold our heads high and are proud to reckon
+ourselves the fellow-countrymen of JELLICOE and KITCHENER. We have begun
+well. May we have strength and resolution to endure without faltering to
+the end.
+
+I am glad to say that the sewing brigade, which I mentioned in my last,
+shows an ever-increasing activity. All good female Islanders are busy
+about the manufacture of pyjamas for the soldiery. One of the marks of
+patriotism amongst our ladies is the possession of a pair of pyjama
+legs. No picnic party is complete without them. When the men light their
+cigarettes the women bring out their pyjamas and add stitch upon stitch.
+Pyjama legs are awkward things in a breeze, being apt to flap about, but
+they are resolutely tucked round arms or otherwise restrained, and the
+needle continues its deft work in spite of all difficulties. Pyjama
+jackets, too, are of course made in the proper number, but they are not
+so dramatic in their movements as the legs, and I have not noticed them
+so much.
+
+I revert once more to KITCHENER'S triumphant feat in transporting our
+army to France. We are not very far from Southampton, whence some of the
+troops must have sailed, but beyond the merest vague rumours we heard
+nothing. One lady, a fortnight ago, had word from some one that a
+Belgian _padre_ had seen trucks full of British soldiers in Belgium. A
+gentleman had heard from a school friend of his daughter that
+motor-'buses of the General Omnibus Company had been seen in Brussels in
+all their bravery of scarlet, apparently bound (if their painted
+announcements might be trusted) for Cricklewood _viâ_ Brussels with a
+full complement of soldiery and stores. Another lady knew, she said,
+that her nephew, an officer, had already sailed for an unknown
+destination. These were the reports, and they left us all guessing.
+
+I am still in trouble about my tame alien, the children's maid, Maria
+Hasewitz. Her permit, obtained at Newport with some labour, authorises
+her to reside at Totland, but not to move more than five miles from the
+limits of that place. Having decided to leave Totland with family and
+household on Monday I have suddenly been brought up against the stone
+wall of Maria's alienship. It was obviously necessary to secure
+permission for this forlorn German girl to travel home with us. The idea
+of dropping Maria into the sea five miles from here could not be
+entertained, in spite of the fact that she is technically an enemy. So I
+applied, stating the facts, to the Chief Constable, who, with a
+promptitude and a courtesy which I desire to acknowledge, sent a
+sergeant to interview me. Struggling against that sense of general and
+undefined guilt which the propinquity of a police officer always
+inspires and striving to assume an air of frank and confident honesty, I
+approached the sergeant and learnt from him that, this being a
+prohibited area, the Chief Constable could not give the required
+permission to travel without the express authority of the HOME
+SECRETARY, to whom he begged to refer me. I urged that it would be a
+profound relief to the Chief Constable to get rid even of an alien so
+harmless as Maria; but this plea the sergeant at once put aside. I have
+therefore written to the HOME SECRETARY. If he refuses I wonder what
+will happen to Maria.
+
+P.S.--The Home Office has replied authorising Maria to embark at Ryde
+and land at Portsmouth. This is like telling a Londoner to embark at
+Hull and land at Bristol on his way to Windsor. I have telegraphed.
+
+_Later._--The Home Office permits Maria to embark at Totland and land at
+Lymington. All is at last well.
+
+R. C. L.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Extract from "Notes from an Alsatian Valley" in _Chambers' Journal_:--
+
+    "As a last word about this charming country, may I point out its
+    advantages as a holiday playground? It offers attractions of many
+    kinds to the sportsman.... The climate ... remains singularly warm
+    right up to the end of October."
+
+Rather _too_ hot a playground for holiday-makers just now.
+
+Illustration: THE COMING OF THE COSSACKS. WILHELM II. "WHAT IS THIS
+DISTANT RUMBLING THAT I HEAR? DOUBTLESS THE PLAUDITS OF MY PEOPLE!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Zealous Policeman (on German Spy duty, having got
+motorist's name and address, etc., and received, in answer to his
+further question, "And is this lady your wife?" a torrent of oaths very
+much in the vernacular)._ "OH! PASS ALONG; YOU'RE A BRITISHER ALL
+RIGHT."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE NEW NEWS.
+
+While cordially endorsing all the deserved tributes that have lately
+been paid to the tact and loyalty of our daily Press, we venture to
+express a hope that the practice of printing every kind of contradictory
+war report will not become of universal application to other forms of
+intelligence.
+
+Imagine, for example, being confronted with this kind of thing in the
+Cricket specials:--
+
+KENT _v._ LANCASHIRE.
+
+THE GREAT MATCH BEGUN.
+
+A telegram from Canterbury, dated 11 A.M., Aug 18th, states that the
+great match has actually begun. No details are given.
+
+AMAZING LANCASTRIAN VICTORY.
+
+Rumour's Agency learns that the resistance of Kent has everywhere been
+entirely overcome; no fewer than forty-three of the home side have been
+dismissed for sixteen runs. Twenty-nine wickets fell before lunch.
+
+_Maidstone, Aug. 19. [Delayed in transmission]_.--The team has arrived
+in Canterbury. Captain TROUGHTON, in a stirring address, pointed out
+that hostilities had been forced upon the county, which however would
+not be found unprepared. The greatest enthusiasm prevails among the
+team, who are in capital health. WOOLLEY especially was never in better
+form.
+
+STARTLING REPORT.
+
+A private telegram received in Liverpool states that SHARP took
+seventeen wickets for no runs in eleven minutes. Up to the time of going
+to press this had not been officially confirmed.
+
+_Dover._--No credence is attached here to the reported success of
+Lancashire. It is pointed out that in any case the figures given must be
+greatly overestimated, not more than eleven men being employed on either
+side. Most probably the casualties include both umpires and spectators,
+and these losses would have no real effect on the game.
+
+_Manchester._--It is confirmed here that WOOLLEY has resigned.
+
+_Canterbury, noon, Aug. 18. (From our Special Correspondent.)_--At
+last I am able to send you definite information. Amidst a scene of
+breathless enthusiasm the two Captains prepared to toss. A roar of
+cheering soon afterwards proclaimed that the coin had declared in favour
+of----
+
+[Message breaks off here and has evidently been censored.]
+
+Folkestone unofficial wires state that at lunch the scores stood--Kent
+all out 463: Lancashire 14 for 2 wickets (both taken by WOOLLEY).
+
+STOP PRESS.
+
+The Press Bureau have just issued a statement that no play has yet been
+possible in the Kent v. Lancashire match on account of rain.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Pingoism in Japan may be matched by Jingoism here."--_Pittsburgh
+    Press._
+
+Pingoism should be carefully distinguished from pongoism.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SILENCE OF THE BRITISH VIRGIL.
+
+    The awful silence of the British virgil in the North Sea is unbroken
+    still."
+
+_Newcastle Daily Journal._
+
+We are glad to see our old friend VIRGIL spoken of as British. It is, no
+doubt, the writer's forcible way of indicating Italy's sympathy.
+
+OUR WAR MAP.
+
+I have bought a war map. My newspaper told me to, and I did. It came
+yesterday with a host of little coloured flags on pins.
+
+Helen and I surveyed it critically.
+
+"Why, it's only an ordinary map of Europe," she said disgustedly.
+
+"It won't be," I said, "when we've stuck the flags in."
+
+I removed a picture and pinned the map to the wall.
+
+"First of all there's Belgrade," I said.
+
+"Where?" asked Helen eagerly.
+
+"Er, er--somewhere round here, I know.... I do believe they've forgotten
+to put it in...."
+
+Gladys (who is only ten) found it for us eventually, and we arranged a
+very fine battle there with a river in between.
+
+The Meuse was easier. We infested its banks with our hosts and fixed a
+splendid array of troops all along the Franco-German frontier. Next we
+invaded Germany and Austria from the other side with several Russian
+armies and put some local troops to meet them. Without boasting, I think
+I may say the result was very pretty. But to our dismay we found we had
+a number of armies left. Helen said they must fight somewhere.
+
+"You can't keep all those troops idle," she said. "Look at the waste of
+good material."
+
+"That's true," I admitted. "Perhaps my newspaper can help."
+
+It did indeed contain enough rumours of battles to dispose of all our
+flags and a few dozen besides, but at the same time it urged me to
+accept unofficial statements with the greatest reserve. Mr. F. E. SMITH,
+it declared (it was a Liberal print; such are the vicissitudes of war)
+was the only reliable authority. Helen and I decided we could accept
+information from him alone. But Mr. SMITH gave us no help. I was worried
+for the moment, I admit; here were all these armies left in the envelope
+with nowhere to go to.
+
+Then I had an inspiration such as comes to a man but seldom in a
+lifetime. The Fates should decide.
+
+I pushed the furniture out of the way, led Helen to the other side of
+the room, blindfolded her, and thrust a British army into her hand.
+
+"The idea is to walk across the room without looking and stick it
+somewhere on the map," I explained. "Scandinavia and the Peninsula are
+out of bounds until we hear further from the KAISER. If you hit them you
+have another prod."
+
+Helen planted her army near Moscow. I took a Servian flag and planted it
+in the North Sea.
+
+The game was very exciting while it lasted. I consider that I won it by
+placing a French force in the environs of Vienna, an extraordinarily
+good move. My newspaper would have been glad of the suggestion, I am
+sure.
+
+Gladys was handicapped by her height, but, taking everything into
+consideration, I think she arranged some quite nice struggles in Sicily
+and the Principality of Monaco.
+
+Wilkinson came in after dinner. He collects the latest rumours and edits
+them really well. Usually Helen and I find it wise to accept all his
+statements without a murmur, but yesterday I disagreed with him.
+
+"I'm sorry," I said gently, "but I don't think you've got things quite
+right. This is more like the position of things at present," and I waved
+my arm in the direction of our war map.
+
+When at last he regained speech he made some remarks which might have
+given offence to people less sure of themselves than I.
+
+"No," I said, "I do know the flags of the nations, and so does my wife.
+But I must beg you to keep that map a secret. You see, I have a friend
+in the inner circle who has given me some information of which the
+outside world knows nothing. I can rely on your discretion, I am sure."
+
+"Of course, my dear fellow." He seemed dazed and strangely silent. He
+had one long last look at the map and departed muttering to himself: "A
+Belgian fleet off the Outer Hebrides! French troops in Nijni Novgorod!!
+A Montenegrin squadron menacing Mitylene!!!"
+
+It is strange how strong the force of habit is. I went to the City as
+usual to-day. At lunch I met Collins, who told me he had it on very good
+authority that there was an Austrian fleet bombarding the forts along
+the Mersey and that a combined force of French and Russians had crossed
+the Dutch frontier from Arnheim and was advancing on Berlin.
+
+I hurried home to record these new developments on my map, and was
+compelled, through shortage of flags, to displace the Servian fleet from
+the North Sea and Gladys's Belgian contingent from Monte Carlo.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _German Bird._ "I SEE IT DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT
+EAGLES."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _The Hohenzollern (megaphonically)._ "TAKE COURAGE, MY
+BRAVE GERMANS. YOUR KAISER IS PREPARED TO SACRIFICE A MILLION OF YOU."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ANOTHER IMPENDING APOLOGY.
+
+"500,000 copies of 'With the Flag to Pretoria' were sold a few days
+after publication and thousands were disappointed."--_Advt._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: A FAUX PAS.
+
+_London Hawker (addressing obvious Teuton)._ "WEAR YER FLAG, SIR."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+IN THE CITY.
+
+    Because beneath grey Northern skies
+      Some grey hulls heave and fall,
+    The merchants sell their merchandise
+      All just as usual;
+    Our cargoes sail for man's content
+      The same as yesterday,
+    And war-risk's down to 2 per cent.,
+      The underwriters say.
+
+    The clerks they sit with page and pen
+      And fill the desks a-row,
+    Because outside of Cuxhaven
+      There's them to make it so;
+    We go to lunch, as natural,
+      From one o'clock till two,
+    Because outside of Kiel Canal
+      There's those that let us do.
+
+    We check and add our pass-books up
+      Or keep our weekly Boards
+    Unhampered by the works of KRUPP
+      And all the KAISER'S swords;
+    At five o'clock we have our tea
+      And catch our usual bus--
+    So thank the LORD for those at sea
+      Who guard the likes of us.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE COWARDLY CONSUMERS CO-OPERATIVE COMPANY.
+
+The C.C.C.C. has been formed to provide for the wants of unpatriotic or
+panic-stricken persons in all parts of the country.
+
+WRITE TO US TO-DAY.
+
+WE HAVE MADE COMPLETE ARRANGEMENTS FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE.
+
+A FULL DINNER-TABLE FOR YOU WHILE OTHERS STARVE.
+
+HORS D'OEUVRES.--Ensure your _hors d'oeuvres_ by allowing us to turn
+your bath into a sardine tank. Your basement too should make an
+excellent oyster bed. We would flood it for you.
+
+SOUPS.--The mock turtles we supply are quite tame, and while waiting to
+be made into soup should keep your children amused. We also deliver
+Salted Oxtail by the furlong. Send for patterns.
+
+FISH.--Try one of our Frozen Whales and assure your fish course for the
+next six months.
+
+JOINTS.--Sheep-folds (with sheep) supplied at shortest notice to fit
+your tennis court, or you might order one of our Handy Styes, which have
+accommodation for half-a-dozen pigs (congenial company) and are suitable
+for erection in a corner of any flat or private residence.
+
+SWEETS.--Our "one ton" plum puddings placed in position on your premises
+by our own cranes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+READ OUR TESTIMONIALS.
+
+    _A Grateful Customer writes_:--"Your transformation of my boudoir
+    into a hen-pen is quite admirable, and enables us to face the future
+    with complete calm. As your circular reminds us, one feels more
+    comfortable about one's country when one is safe oneself."
+
+    _Another writes_:--"Many thanks for prompt attention. The
+    night-nursery makes an excellent cow-house, and the two cows used
+    the passenger-lift with perfect success."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WRITE US FOR QUOTATIONS FOR ANY QUANTITY OF PROVISIONS REQUIRED.
+
+So long as the order is large enough we will execute it. No orders for
+less value than £50 accepted.
+
+_SPECIAL NOTICE._
+
+Our Hoarding Department has prepared a neat stocking capable of holding
+750 sovereigns. Please ask to see one.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+All goods are delivered in our own heavily armoured pantechnicons.
+
+A charming miniature White Feather, suitable for personal adornment,
+will be presented to all customers.
+
+Take no notice whatever of any warnings in the newspapers not to buy
+largely. Think of yourselves. It is only you who matter. Buy now; buy
+quantities.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From the regulations governing special constables:--
+
+    "A special constable guilty of misconduct may be suspended from
+    duty, and, if so suspended, shall forthwith give up his warrant
+    card, truncheon, armlet, and whistle to the police officer
+    suspending him."
+
+What tune must he whistle to him?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Admiral Jellicoe has a reputation for thoroughness in the naval
+    service, but a story which shows his kindly nature was told to me
+    to-day (says 'F.' in the 'Citizen'). A defence boom was being
+    constructed at Sheerness, and the admiral was dissatisfied with it.
+    He told the officer in command of some defects, and said it was not
+    so good as the boom at Portsmouth."
+
+We feel sure there must be even better stories about him than this.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"THEY ALSO SERVE."
+
+Jeremy threw away the stump of his after-dinner cigar and began to light
+another one.
+
+"Where's the economy of giving up smoking when you've got lots of cigars
+in the house?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, Jeremy," said his wife, "who says you ought to?"
+
+"The Vicar. He only smokes one non-throat cigarette a day himself. I
+told him he ought to give that up, but he said it was different. I say,
+it will want rather a large soldier for that shirt, won't it?" He sat on
+the arm of his wife's chair and began to play with the sleeve.
+
+"Jeremy, can't you find something to do?"
+
+"Yes." He went out and returned with his golf clubs, which he began to
+polish lovingly. "I think I shall have a round to-morrow. If FRANCIS
+DRAKE played bowls when the Spanish Fleet was in sight, I don't see why
+Jeremy Smith shouldn't play golf when the German Fleet is out of sight."
+
+"I thought you said you weren't going to till the war was over?"
+
+"I don't see why I shouldn't. Golf keeps us fit, and it is the duty of
+every Englishman to be fit just now."
+
+"But you really play golf because you like it."
+
+Jeremy looked up at her in surprise.
+
+"Really," he said, "I don't see why I shouldn't like doing my duty."
+
+"Oh, Jeremy!" sighed his wife. "You know I didn't mean that."
+
+"I know exactly what you meant." He dropped his clubs and began to pace
+the room. "You're filled with the idea that the only way a man can serve
+his country is by doing something he absolutely detests. That's why you
+made me a special constable." He stopped and glared at her. "A special
+constable! Me!"
+
+"Darling, it was your own idea entirely."
+
+"You said to yourself, 'There are men who would make excellent special
+constables--men with red faces and angry moustaches who take naturally
+to ordering other people about, men who instinctively push their way
+into the middle of a row when they see one, men with a lust for gore,
+great powerful men who have learnt ju-jitsu. But the fact that they'd
+all rather like it shows that it can't really be their duty to join;
+they wouldn't be making a big enough sacrifice. The men we want are the
+quiet, the mild, the inoffensive, the butterflies of life, the men who
+would simply loathe being special constables, the men who would be
+entirely useless at it'--and, having said this to yourself, you looked
+round and you saw _me_."
+
+Mrs. Jeremy smiled and shook her head at her husband, sighed again, and
+returned to her work.
+
+"And so now I'm a special constable, and I wear a belt and a truncheon,
+and what good do I do? Baby loves it, I admit that; Baby admires me
+immensely. When Nurse says, 'If you're not a good girl the special
+constable will be after you,' Baby shrieks with delight. But officially,
+in the village, I am useless.... Oh but I forgot, I arrested a man this
+morning."
+
+"Jeremy, and you never told me!" said Mrs. Jeremy excitedly.
+
+"Well, I wasn't quite sure at the time whether I arrested him or he
+arrested me. But in the clearer light of evening I see that it was
+really I who was doing the arresting. At any rate it was I who had the
+belt and the note-book."
+
+"Was it a German spy?"
+
+"No, it was old Jack, rather drunk. I arrested him for being intoxicated
+on a bridge--the one over the brook, you know, by Claytons. He put his
+arm round my neck and we started for the Haverley police-station
+together. I didn't want to go to the police-station, because it's three
+miles off, but Jack insisted.... He had me tight by the neck. I couldn't
+even make a note."
+
+"Wasn't he afraid of your truncheon?"
+
+"My darling, one couldn't hit old Jack with a truncheon; he's such a
+jolly old boy when he's sober." Jeremy played nervously with his wife's
+scissors, and added, "Besides he was doing things with the truncheon
+himself."
+
+"What sort of things?"
+
+"Conducting the _Marseillaise_ chiefly--we marched along in time to it."
+A smile spread slowly over Jeremy's face as the scene came back to him.
+"It must have looked splendid."
+
+"How dared he?" said Mrs. Jeremy indignantly.
+
+"Oh, well, if you make your husband a special constable you must expect
+these things. I consoled myself with the thought that I was doing my
+duty ... and that there was nobody about. You see, we made a detour and
+missed Haverley, and when we were nearly home again he left me. I mean I
+released him. You know, I'm not what I call a _good_ special constable.
+I did what I could, but there must be more in it than that."
+
+Mrs. Jeremy looked up and blew a kiss to him.
+
+"However," he went on, "I dropped in on him this evening and made him
+sign the pledge."
+
+"Well, there you are; you _have_ done some good."
+
+"Yes, but I hadn't got my truncheon on then. I spoke as Jeremy Smith,
+Esq." He put a brassey to his shoulder and said, "Bang," and went on, "I
+should be no good at all at the front, and Lord KITCHENER would be no
+good trying to paint my water-colours, but all the same I scored an
+inner last night. The scene at the range when it got about that the
+President had scored an inner was one of wild enthusiasm. When the news
+is flashed to Berlin it will give the GERMAN EMPEROR pause. Do you know
+that the most unpatriotic thing you can do is to make shirts for the
+wounded, when there are lots of poor women in the village who'd be only
+too glad of the job? Like little Miss Merton. And yet you think to get
+out of it by making your husband a special constable."
+
+Mrs. Jeremy put down her work and went over to her husband and knelt by
+his chair.
+
+"Do you know," she said, taking his hands in hers, "that there isn't a
+man, woman or child in this village who is idle or neglected or
+forgotten? That those who wanted to enlist have been encouraged and told
+how to, and that those who didn't want to have been shown other ways of
+helping? That it's all been done without any fuss or high-falutin or
+busy-bodying, and chiefly because of an absurd husband of mine who never
+talks seriously about anything, but somehow manages to make everybody
+else willing and good-tempered?"
+
+"Is that a fact?" said Jeremy, rather pleased.
+
+"It is. And this absurd husband didn't understand how much he was
+helping, and he had an idea that he ought to do something thoroughly
+uncomfortable, so he ordered a truncheon and gave up golf and made
+himself quite miserable ... and then put it all on to his wife."
+
+"Well, why didn't you stop me?" said Jeremy helplessly.
+
+"I wasn't going to be a drag on you; if you'd volunteered for a
+submarine I should have said nothing."
+
+"I should be useless in a submarine," said Jeremy thoughtfully; "I
+should only fall over the white mice. But I really thought you
+wanted---- Why then," he cried happily, "I might play golf to-morrow,
+you think?"
+
+"I wish you would," said Mrs. Jeremy.
+
+Jeremy took up his brassey and addressed an imaginary ball.
+
+"Sir Jeremy Smith playing golf in a crisis," he said. "Subject for
+historical picture."
+
+A. A. M.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: A DESPERATE MEASURE.
+
+_West Country Skipper (stationary in small Cornish port and ignorant
+of our Navy's control of the sea)._ "IF I PUTS OUT AN' GOES EAST I BE
+SUNK BY T' GERMANS, AN' IF I GOES SOUTH I BE SUNK BY T'
+AUSTRIA-'UNGRIANS. IT DU SEEM AS 'OW I WERE BEST TO BIDE WHERE I BE AN'
+GI' T' OLD SHIP A COAT O' PAAINT!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE WATCH DOGS.
+
+MY DEAR BILL,--It is now upwards of a fortnight since we were torn
+asunder, I being taken away to cope with the Germans and you being left
+at home to protect our property against the predatory attacks of our
+landlady. I imagine you would like to know how things are going with me,
+but please don't trouble to answer, for I don't in the least want to
+know how things are going with you. No one does, my boy; you are what we
+refer to as a _something_ civilian. You must forgive us, Bill; it is one
+of the too few pleasures in the life of the mobilized Territorial.
+
+Has that rosy, well-groomed body of yours ever sought repose on the
+tessellated floor of a public hall? Has it ever washed itself in an
+enamel mug? Has it ever set out on a round of visits with luggage
+limited to 35 lbs., inclusive of its bed? No, nor had mine before; and
+yet it doesn't seem to suffer much harm from the experience. What is
+more, we are beginning to find scope for little luxuries even in this
+narrow compass; there are mess tins, for instance, of the larger sort in
+which one may, with a little ingenuity, have a complete bath.
+
+When I set off last Tuesday week, with my chest out and my eyes right, I
+only got as far as the Infants School round the corner, where my company
+was foregathered. Here we spent our time, the hundred odd of us, getting
+together the necessaries of life: the most formidable of these was
+undoubtedly the housewife. I confess to a faint heart when I think of
+myself darning my socks in off moments between battles.
+
+From the Infants School we went to the Town Hall to join the Battalion,
+and the thousand of us marched to our war station, some thirty miles
+away. I hope I looked like a soldier as I stepped out, but I felt more
+like a general stores with all my stock hanging in my shop window. Next
+time I do this sort of thing I'm going to have a row of pegs on my back
+and an extra storey in my head-gear for oddments. There is no denying
+that the whole arrangement is an efficient one, the only failure being
+the cellar equipment. It seems to me that the War Office ought to have
+discovered some shady nook about the human body where one's drinking
+water could be kept cool. Also I think they have wasted space by not
+utilizing the inside of one's field-glasses for the carriage of
+something or other. A combination sword and razor would also be an
+economy.
+
+We increased in numbers as we progressed. At our war-station we joined
+the Brigade, making us four thousand in all, and from there we joined
+the Division, becoming about sixteen thousand. If we go on at this
+pace, we shall be getting into the millions soon, and then I think
+somebody's meals _must_ be overlooked. There's bound to be some limit to
+the capacity of these organizing people, although it certainly hasn't
+appeared yet. They moved our Brigade two hundred miles by train with
+less shouting and fuss than is usual with the single British family
+mobilising for its seaside resort. Their system of train-catching
+however is worth mentioning.
+
+Section Commanders were told to have their section ready by six-thirty.
+That was the order issued by us Lieutenants responsible for
+half-companies. We had been told to be ready by seven o'clock, under a
+threat of execution on the following dawn. Hence the margin of half an
+hour. We took our orders from our Captains, who had them from the
+Majors, who had them from the Adjutant, who had them from the C.O., who
+had them from the Brigadier, who had them from goodness knows where.
+Every rank is prepared to be shot, if need be, but desires, if possible,
+not to have it happen at dawn; so each officer, taking his order from
+his superior, puts on his margin before instructing his inferior.
+
+The Brigadier came round this morning to have a look at a guard. He
+found our one and only T. B. Ponks doing sentry. "Turn out the guard,"
+was the order. "Eh?" was the response. "Where is the guard?" asked the
+flushed suite. "A dunno," said T. B. The suite was inclined to be fussy,
+but our Brigadier is essentially human. "Where are the other lads?" he
+asked genially. "They 'm in theer," said T. B., pointing to the entrance
+with no particular enthusiasm. The Brigadier and his staff made as if to
+enter. "'Ere, you," called T. B., now galvanized into activity, "you
+can't go in theer," and he barred the way. We have since been lectured
+on the elements of military ceremonial, but at the same time we have
+been asked to volunteer as a unit for the fighting line if need be. I
+think the Brigadier has his doubts as to how T. B. and his sort will
+impress the Allies, but feels quite confident of their manner towards
+the enemy. It was the same T. B. who, being sent by the magnificent
+Lieutenant d'Arcy to summon Lance-Corporal Brown, was overheard calling,
+"Hi, Mr. Brown, d'Arcy wants yer."
+
+I must break off here, for I have had an intimation from Private Cox
+that now is my opportunity to see his bare feet. A fortnight ago I might
+have hesitated to accept this kind invitation; to-day I insist upon his
+bringing them along at once. In fact, my hobby in life is other people's
+feet; I have fitted a hundred pairs of them with socks and with boots,
+and I have assisted personally at the pricking of their blisters and the
+trimming of their excrescences. What a fall from our intellectual
+heights! But so it is with us, Bill; if we can once get those boys' feet
+in sound marching order, all the nice problems of the human soul which
+we used to canvass may go to the---- But I suppose that I must reserve
+that word for military use.
+
+By the way, when the battalion was asked to volunteer, the men only
+raised one point. They didn't trouble themselves about the work or the
+risk of it, but they wondered whether anybody really _would_ look after
+their homes and dependants when the excitement had died down a little.
+Their scepticism may be due to a certain music-hall comedian who used to
+declare as follows:--"And if, gentlemen, this glorious old country of
+ours shall ever be involved in war, I know, I say, gentlemen, that I
+know, there is not a man in this hall to-night who will fail to turn out
+and see the troops off."
+
+But to-day things are different, and these boys of ours, a noisy,
+troublesome and magnificent crew, need have no fear about the homes they
+leave behind them.
+
+    Yours ever,          HENRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: HOW WE SAVED THE HARVEST AT SLOSHINGTON-ON-SEA.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "WANTED.--Girls to sort nuts."
+
+         _Advt. in "Liverpool Echo."_
+
+The object is to find if there are any without grease on their hair.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE TRIUMPH OF "CULTURE."
+
+        *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE MISFORTUNE OF WAR.
+
+_Tired Tim._ "'ERE, I DON'T ARF LIKE THE LOOK O' THIS, BILL."
+
+_Work-shy Willy._ "NO, MORE DON'T I, MATE. CUSS THAT THERE KAISER!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FELINE AMENITIES.
+
+Thanks to the courtesy of the Editor we are able to publish the
+following selections from the stories about cats sent in for the prize
+competition organised by _The Scottish Meekly_. The first received a
+complete edition of the sermons of Dr. Angus McHuish, the second a
+mounted photograph of Sir Nicholson Roberts, and the third a superb
+simulation gold pencil-case.
+
+THE LIFE-STORY OF A WILD CAT.
+
+Here is a true story of a wild stray cat which I hope may interest your
+readers. Some years ago I lived with my parents (my father being a
+retired manufacturer of artificial eyes) on the banks of the river
+Dodder, near Dundrum. In the back-garden there was an old summer-house,
+where we used to store cabbages, disused kippers, Carlsbad plums and
+other odds and ends, and here a stray cat took up his abode in an empty
+porter cask during the latter part of January, 1901. He was of some rare
+breed and very beautiful in appearance--a blend between a marmadillo and
+a young loofah--but so savage that no one dared to touch him. During the
+cold months of the year we placed bottles of stout in the summer-house
+for him, the corks of which he drew with his claws, which were
+remarkably long. In the summer-time he used to forage for himself,
+subsisting mainly on roach, with an occasional conger-eel which he
+caught in the Dodder. One day early in April, 1902, the cat--whom we
+called Beethoven, because of his indulgence in moonlight fantasias--came
+to the back door mewing, and on opening the door my father found that it
+had lost an eye--probably in a fight--and evidently wished him to supply
+the loss artificially, which he did. I have never heard a cat purr so
+loudly as Beethoven did on that occasion. After that he completely lost
+his shyness and became quite one of the family, singing in the choir on
+Sundays and contributing to the larder during the week by his skill as a
+fisherman. He lived with us until a few months ago, when he unhappily
+died through inadvertently swallowing a cork. He is buried in our
+garden, and on the stone are inscribed the following lines composed by
+my mother--
+
+    Here lies Beethoven in his grave,
+    No earthly power could him save;
+    An envious cork blocked up his breath
+    And that was how he met his death.
+
+         MRS. PULLAR LEGGE.
+
+         _Marine Villas, Brondesbury._
+
+CAT OR CHAMELEON?
+
+Piffles was a splendid pink Circassian--perfect in colour and shape,
+with glorious topaz eyes. But the extraordinary thing about him was a
+gift that he had for changing his colour. Thus my uncle, an old
+Anglo-Indian who always drank a bottle of Madeira after dinner, declared
+that from 10 P.M. onwards Piffles invariably seemed to him to be a
+bright crimson with green spots. Another peculiarity of Piffles was that
+he always followed the guns out shooting, and used to retrieve birds
+from the most difficult places. He practically ruled the household, took
+the boys back to school after the holidays, attended family prayers, and
+was learning to play the pianola when he was unfortunately killed by a
+crocodile which escaped from a travelling menagerie.
+
+         (MISS) IVY WAGG.
+
+         _The Oaks, Long Boughton._
+
+A FELINE PRACTICAL JOKER.
+
+Last year I had a cat who, whenever she was offended, used to go to my
+bedroom and throw various articles out of the window. I was constantly
+finding purses, powder-puffs, artificial teeth, safety-pins, hymn-books,
+etc., on the lawn, and never suspected the culprit until she was caught
+in the act.
+
+She also had a habit of sitting on the top of the front door and
+dropping golf-balls on the head of the postman, whom, either for his red
+hair or his Radical opinions, she disliked bitterly.
+
+She would eat and drink anything, including ice-pudding and green
+Chartreuse, and was always peculiarly cheerful on Thursday evenings,
+when _The Scottish Meekly_ reaches our house.
+
+         D. MONK HOWSON.
+
+         _Steep Bank, Grogport._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: "BETTER 'AVE ONE AND READ ABOUT IT NOW, SIR; IT MIGHT BE
+CONTERADICTED IN THE MORNING."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE SCRATCH HANDICAP.
+
+"What do you do?" asked Charles, "when people want you to play
+lawn-tennis?"
+
+"Sometimes I play," I said. "Sometimes I send Sophonisba. Sometimes I
+tell them that my head-keeper is away and I am obliged to look after the
+lop-ears. What happens to you?"
+
+"Well, you know what lawn-tennis is like nowadays. In the bygone
+butter-pat era I could hold my own with the best of them. Golf had
+hardly come in, and when one wasn't playing cricket, and the spilliken
+set had been mislaid, and tiddley-winks was voted too rough, a couple of
+sets or so was rather fun. Soft undulating courts, very hard to keep a
+footing on, and plenty of sticks and leaves to assist one's screws, and
+patches of casual whiting here and there so that you could say that it
+wasn't a fault but hit the line. Now all that is changed.
+Panther-limbed, hawk-eyed young persons leap about the lawn dressed in
+white from top to toe. They play on fast and level lawns, entirely
+circumscribed by a kind of deep-sea trawling apparatus. They want you to
+hit hard and well. I have only two strokes when I hit hard. One of them
+pierces the bottom of the seine or drag-net fixed across the fairway,
+the other brings the man round from the next-door garden but two to say
+that his cucumbers are catching cold. And then I do not understand their
+terms. What is a 'fore-hand drive'? It sounds like the coaching
+Marathon. And how do you put on top spin? Do you wind your racquet round
+and round the ball and then pull it away suddenly, or what? And
+cross-volleys--what in the world are they?"
+
+"Goodness knows," I said. "My own volleys are the best-tempered little
+chaps alive. But, hang it! no one can force you to play lawn-tennis if
+you don't want to."
+
+"Can't they?" said Charles. "That's just the point. They do. They say to
+me, 'You play golf and cricket; of course you can play tennis. Easiest
+thing in the world.' Swish! swish! they go, making a ferocious
+cross-hand top-lead from baulk with their umbrellas. 'That's how to do
+it. You'll soon get into the way of the stroke.' 'That's just what I'm
+afraid of,' I say, leaping nervously on to the table. But it's no good.
+'Come round next Saturday afternoon,' they say, 'we shall be expecting
+you,' and pass rapidly into the night before I can refuse."
+
+"One can always have a sick headache," I reminded him.
+
+"I did that once," said Charles. "I had been asked to play in a
+tournament, and at dinner the next evening I sat next to the girl who
+ought to have been my partner in the mixed handicaps, and we had
+meringues. No, it isn't safe, and besides one might always want to play
+golf. I think the best thing is to go once and trust to one's own skill
+not to be asked again. Anyhow, I don't believe the Jenkinsons will give
+me another invitation for some time."
+
+"What happened?" I asked. "I suppose when they've sewn up the net and
+bought new balls----"
+
+"No, it wasn't that," he answered, with a dreamy smile. "You know the
+Jenkinsons. You know how keen they are on tennis and how proud of their
+court. I did everything I could to save them, but they would have me. I
+said I had no racquet except the one I had used for landing trout in the
+spring, and they told me I could get it restrung. I said I had no shoes,
+and they told me any shoes would do. I couldn't tell them I had no
+flannels, because they wouldn't have believed me. So I went. I wore an
+old blue cricket cap on the back of my head: I wore long white trousers
+not turned up, and I wore brown shoes."
+
+"And your racquet?" I asked.
+
+"I borrowed a real tennis-racquet," replied Charles; "one of those
+narrow, rather wistful-looking things, with a kink in its head. I
+thought it would complete the languid artistic effect and help to
+convince them. It had rained a good deal in the morning, and I rather
+hoped we might spend the time looking at the conservatory and have
+muffins for tea. But no. When I reached the house I found that they had
+decided to play. They laughed at me a good deal, of course--at my cap,
+and my racquet, and my trousers, and my brown shoes. When we had taken
+up our stations in the arena they told me I was to serve first. I sent
+the ball high up into the air underhand and ran swiftly to the net." He
+paused melodramatically.
+
+"Go on," I said. "Was it the solar plexus or the eye?"
+
+"No," he answered sadly, "I was unwounded; but that was the last stroke
+I played. When I served that service they laughed at me again, but when
+I ran to the net they ceased to laugh. They said they could easily find
+someone else to complete the four. They pressed me to sit and watch for
+the remainder of the afternoon. Indeed, they were quite firm about it."
+
+"I don't understand," I said. "Was it your face that frightened them in
+the blue cap?"
+
+"Not so much my face," he answered gently, "as my feet."
+
+"What was the matter with them?"
+
+"There are big nails," he said softly, "in my brown golf shoes."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Trooper._ "COME ON BEHIND HERE AND TRAVEL WITH US,
+JIM!"
+
+_Jim_ (_from horse-box_). "NOT MUCH. NONE OF YOUR THIRD-CLASS FOR ME."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FROM ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW.
+
+It is a strange thing that, much as women have entered the writing lists
+with men, there is one branch of literature which they rarely attempt.
+Take away Mrs. BROWNING and CHRISTINA ROSSETTI and you will scarcely
+find a love poem by a woman, or, at any rate, a love poem which takes
+the woman's point of view. Probably many of the most cherished
+sentimental songs which wake the echoes of the drawing-room and
+conservatory are the work of women; but they write as men. It is always
+the masculine aspect which is set before the public; the beloved is
+always feminine. And yet marriage statistics show that precisely as many
+men have married as women. But during the preliminary period of exalted
+emotion any love poetry that was written was written by the men.
+
+Surely, as the advancement of woman proceeds, and she adds territory
+upon territory to her kingdom, she will redress the balance and write
+love poetry too.
+
+A very few changes in certain of the classic lyrics indicate how near
+the two varieties of love poems can be: male and female. Thus, why
+should not "he" as well as "she" have dwelt among untrodden ways? Why
+should not "he" have walked in beauty like the night? POE wrote
+magically about ANNABEL LEE; why should not one of his female relatives,
+for example, have written in a similar strain? Something like this:--
+
+    It was many and many a year ago,
+      In a kingdom by the sea,
+    That a gentleman lived whom you may know
+      By the name of Hannibal Lee;
+    And this gentleman lived with no other thought
+      Than to love and be loved by me.
+
+Women must see to it that men do not have it all their own way for ever.
+LANDOR was moved to a perfect lyric by love of ROSE AYLMER. Is the
+following any less perfect?
+
+    Ah! what avails the sceptred race?
+      Ah! what the form divine?
+    What every virtue, every grace?
+      George Aylmer, all were thine.
+
+    George Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
+      May weep, but never see,
+    A night of memories and sighs
+      I consecrate to thee.
+
+George is of course not the only name, nor is Aylmer. The adaptrix,
+however, must be careful that the Christian name is a monosyllable and
+the other a dissyllable.
+
+Again, in the following feminine version of a Shakspearean song the name
+is subject to alteration:--
+
+    Who is Bertie? What is he
+      That all the girls commend him?
+    Handsome, brave and wise is he;
+      The heavens such grace did lend him
+    That he might admired be.
+
+Examples might be adduced from many poets, but two more will suffice. A
+female TENNYSON might have begun a song in the following terms:--
+
+    It is the youthful miller,
+      And he is grown so dear, so dear,
+    That I would be the pencil
+      That trembles on his ear:
+    For 'midst his curls by day and night
+    I'd touch his neck so warm and white.
+
+Finally, let us look at the very prince of love poets--ROBBIE BURNS.
+Two of his most famous songs might as well have been written of swains
+as maidens. Here is one in which in the most natural way in the world
+lassie becomes laddie, and Mary, Harry:--
+
+    Go, fetch to me a cup o' tea,
+      And take it from a silver caddie,
+    That I may drink a health to thee,
+      A service to my bonnie laddie!
+    The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,
+      Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry,
+    The ship rides by the Berwick-Law,
+      And I maun leave my bonnie Harry.
+
+Is that injured by the change? Not a bit. And here is another in which
+we have successfully introduced a variation of the original name:--
+
+    Of a' the airts the wind can blaw
+      I dearly like the west,
+    For there the bonnie laddie lives,
+      The laddie I lo'e best.
+    There wild woods grow, and rivers row
+      By mony a fleecy flock,
+    But day and night my fancy's flight
+      Is ever wi' my Jock.
+
+After reading these famous stanzas in their amended form our women poets
+may perhaps take heart and emulate them: to the immense delight of their
+_fiancés_, who like to be wooed as well as to woo, and have never shied
+very much at adulation.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MR. PUNCH'S HOLIDAY STORIES.
+
+III.--THE FIGHT OF THE CENTURY.
+
+For weeks past the press had discussed little but the coming boxing
+contest between Smasher Mike and the famous heavy-weight champion,
+Mauler Mills, for a purse of £20,000 and enormous side stakes.
+Photographs of the Mauler in every conceivable attitude had been
+published daily, together with portraits of his wife, his two children,
+his four maiden aunts and the pink-eyed opossum which he regarded as his
+mascot. Full descriptions of his training day by day, with details of
+his diet, his reading, his amusements and his opinions on war, divorce,
+the clergy and kindred subjects, testified to the extraordinary
+interest taken by the public in the titanic struggle.
+
+But with regard to Smasher Mike the newspapers were at a loss. _The
+Daily Flash_ indeed declared him to be the son of a popular Cabinet
+Minister, and triumphantly published photographs of Downing Street, the
+Woolsack, the Ladies' Gallery and Black Rod. _The Daily Rocket_, on the
+other hand, described him as a herculean docker, discovered and trained
+by a syndicate of wealthy Americans, and issued photographs of Tilbury
+Station, Plymouth Hoe and the Statue of Liberty in New York harbour. The
+fact remained that the identity of the daring challenger was a well-kept
+secret.
+
+Mauler Mills was too experienced a pugilist to be perturbed by the
+mystery surrounding his adversary. The stakes had been handed in, and
+the purse of £20,000, in one pound-notes, had formed a full-page
+illustration in _The Trumpet_, with a photo of the Mauler eating
+gooseberries inset. Content with this knowledge, he trained faithfully
+and well, treated the interviewers with great courtesy, and publicly
+announced that Smasher Mike would be knocked out early in the third
+round by means of a left hook to the jaw.
+
+The betting on Mauler Mills was a hundred to one.
+
+Young Lord Tamerton was in desperate straits. The estate to which he had
+succeeded at the age of ten had been administered during his minority by
+a fraudulent executor, who had absconded to South America with his
+ill-gotten wealth. Matters had since gone steadily from bad to worse,
+and the young peer was now face to face with utter ruin.
+
+An effort had been made to retrieve the family fortunes by the marriage
+of his sister, the beautiful Lady Margaret Tamerton, to her cousin, the
+wealthy Sir Ernest Scrivener, but the providential discovery that the
+latter was already married under the _alias_ of Marmaduke Moorsdyke had
+prevented the match. Since then Sir Ernest had been their implacable and
+relentless enemy, and his desperate attempt to kidnap Lady Margaret had
+only been frustrated by the skill and courage of the famous athlete,
+Ralph Wonderson.
+
+Lord Tamerton was seated at a grand piano, playing BACH and moodily
+reflecting on these matters, when Ralph Wonderson himself entered the
+room, vaulting lightly over piano and performer as he did so.
+
+"What's the matter, Fred?" he asked. "You look blue."
+
+Lord Tamerton dramatically threw £8 4_s._ 6_d._ on the table.
+
+"This morning I pawned the Island Cup, which you won for us," he said
+bitterly. "That is the result, and that is what stands between me and
+starvation." His voice broke, "And--and between Madge and starvation,"
+he added.
+
+Ralph laughed gaily. "I'm not rich," he said, "and if I were I don't
+suppose you'd accept money from me. But I came here purposely to put you
+in the way of making it. Wager as heavily as you can on Smasher Mike.
+The odds are a hundred to one against him. I can introduce you to a man
+who will consider your name sufficient security for a loan of £5,000.
+That will bring you in £500,000, which should secure you at any rate
+from absolute privation. As for little Madge--well, I have a bare £8,000
+a year, but if----"
+
+A light step was heard behind him, and a small hand stole into his own.
+
+"I would marry you," said Lady Margaret, "I would marry you if it were
+only £7,000."
+
+As the lovers gazed fondly into each other's eyes, a sinister figure
+emerged from the grand piano and slipped out noiselessly through the
+open door.
+
+(_To be concluded in our next._)
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Burglar (to his mate)._ "SEE WOT PEOPLE GITS FUR BEIN'
+UNPATRIOTIC! IT'S A PURE TREAT TO GIVE THESE 'ERE GOLD 'OARDERS A
+LESSON."
+
+        *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sad Case of Cannibalism by Robert.
+
+    "Milton scarcely heard her. He was too intent upon wondering how
+    Robert came to be dining tête-à-tête with the one-time Adeline
+    Goodrin, and--if the truth be told--upon that amazing woman,
+    herself."
+
+         _"Daily Mail" feuilleton._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From _Chemistry of Plant Products_:--
+
+    "D'Arbamont concludes that starch, and presumably also sugar, may or
+    may not be essential for the formation of chlorophyll."
+
+We came to the same conclusion long ago.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Excited Veteran._ "THE ALLIES WILL PROBABLY REACH HERE
+AND THEN SWEEP ROUND WITH A SUDDEN FLANKING MOVEMENT."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
+
+The heroine of _Alberta and the Others_ (SIDGWICK AND JACKSON) was the
+eldest of an orphaned family of girls and boys who were finding life a
+little boring in an English village; and when an unexpected legacy made
+her mistress of a couple of town lots in a place called Sunshine, in
+Western Canada, nothing would content her but to emigrate with the whole
+tribe--reinforced by a delightful _Aunt Mary_ and an animal known as the
+Meritorious Cat--to the Land of Promise. The book is the history of how
+they got on there. Naturally, from the circumstances of their start and
+the giddy altitude of _Alberta's_ hopes, you will be prepared for its
+being, to some extent at least, a story of disillusion. Miss MADGE S.
+SMITH, who wrote it, says that it is all true; and indeed there is much
+in the tale that stamps it as the outcome of personal experience. This
+being so, I could wish that her attitude in the matter had been a little
+less uncompromisingly English. In many ways the language and general
+outlook of the daughter of an Oxford don will no doubt differ
+considerably from that of a Canadian-born inhabitant of a prairie
+township; but that is no good reason for assuming an air of patronage.
+However, this defect, though it exists, is not so pronounced as to spoil
+one's enjoyment of an entertaining record, written, as the publishers
+say, "in high spirits throughout," and having, I fancy, just this much
+fiction mingled with its obvious fact, that it ends with a general
+pairing off and the prospect of three weddings--which seems, as _Lady
+Bracknell_ observed in a similar connection, "a number considerably
+above the average that statistics have laid down for our guidance." But
+at least it is the _amende honorable_ to the Land of Promise.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From the cover of _A Tail of Gold_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) I gather with
+respectful interest that its author, Mr. DAVID HENNESSEY, recently won
+four hundred pounds with another story in open competition. I did not
+read the story in question, but in view of its satisfactory financial
+result I may be permitted to express a hope that it was considerably
+better work than the present volume. Let me be entirely fair. _A Tail of
+Gold_ has some pictures of Australian mining life that are not without
+interest; but I am bound to add that a careful and sympathetic perusal
+has failed to disclose any other reason for its existence. The plot, so
+far as there is one, concerns the chequered career of a certain _Major
+Smart_, who seems to have been by no means all that a major should be.
+Amongst other unpleasing peculiarities, he was apparently possessed of a
+fetish that brought misfortune or death to all who were associated with
+him. These results were in the main involuntary; but it is only just to
+add that _Smart_ was not above assisting nature to take her course.
+Thus, some years before the opening of the story, he had deliberately
+buried one poor lady alive in a cave containing sulphide of mercury.
+Never ask me why. I am as muddled by this as I am over his further
+conduct in leaving with the corpse every possible clue in the way of
+letters and ciphers that could bring his guilt home to him. In any
+ordinary novel he would have been convicted in a few chapters; but _A
+Tail of Gold_ wags (if I may use the term) so leisurely, and its action
+is so much impeded by false starts and repetitions and general
+haphazardness, that there is no telling how long it might not have
+continued but for the limitations of volume form. No, I can't pretend I
+liked it much.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Madame ALBANESI, in _The Cap of Youth_ (HUTCHINSON), cannot be accused
+of excessive kindness to her own sex, for the charming women of the
+book are almost snuffed out by two poisonous females, _Lady Bollington_
+and _Lady Catherine Chiltern_. Indeed these ladies are a little too much
+of a bad thing, and, not for the first time, I am left thinking how
+wonderfully Madame ALBANESI'S novels might be improved if she could
+persuade herself to bestow an occasional virtue upon her wicked
+characters. The heroine, _Virginia_, escaped from the hands of one of
+the pair only to fall under the thumb of the other. I must admit,
+however, that _Lady Catherine_ had some reason to be angry at having
+_Virginia_ suddenly dumped upon her as a derelict daughter-in-law. Why
+_Brian Chiltern_ married in haste and then left his wife to endure such
+impossible conditions you must find out for yourself, but I fancy you
+will agree that his delicacy of feeling amounted to sheer stupidity.
+Nevertheless this story is bound to be popular, and I should have had no
+complaint to make if I did not feel that its author has it in her to do
+better work.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Even readers to whom American humour is generally a little indigestible
+may glean some smiles from _Penrod_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON), provided
+that it is taken in small doses and not in the lump. If this book were
+to be considered a study of the normal American boy I should cry with
+vigour, "Save me from the breed," but as a fanciful account of a
+thorough and egregious imp of mischief I can, within limits, offer my
+congratulations to Mr. BOOTH TARKINGTON. The triumph of _Penrod_ lies in
+the fact that, although he brought woe and tribulation to his relations
+and exasperated his friends to the point of insanity, it is nevertheless
+impossible to suppress an affection for him. Ofttimes and hard his
+father chastised him with rods, but _Penrod_ merely accepted these
+beatings as the price that had to be paid for leading an adventurous
+life, and showed not the smallest signs of repentance. Yes, I like
+_Penrod_, though I have not any great desire to meet him in the flesh.
+It grieves me, however, that such a character as _Mr. Kinosling_ should
+have been dragged in by the heels. If fatuous clerics are worth any
+novelist's attention they certainly are not worth Mr. TARKINGTON'S, and
+the only effect _Mr. Kinosling_ had upon me was to fortify my conviction
+that it is far easier to begin a book of humour than to finish it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE NORTH SEA PERIL.
+
+"BY JOVE, I PITY THE GERMANS IF _SHE_ GETS HOLD OF 'EM!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_EN PASSANT._
+
+    Loud swells the roar of traffic in the street,
+      The motor-buses rumble on and wind
+      Their plaintive warnings as they come behind
+    Faint folk who dally, dazed by summer heat;
+    The reckless taxis seem a deal too fleet
+      To country cousins nervously inclined,
+      And raucous news-boys fret the curious mind
+    With spicy rumours of the foe's defeat.
+
+    But suddenly a hush falls everywhere:
+      Stopp'd is each taxi with its languid load,
+      And, as the City's silence deeper grows,
+    Only a barrel-organ churns the air
+      While Peggy (in the middle of the road)
+    Pauses to put some powder on her nose!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mr. Chaplin as an Apache.
+
+    "RETIREMENT OF MR. HENRY CHAPLIN.
+
+    SAFETY OF THE STREETS."
+
+         _The Times._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+147, August 26th, 1914, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+***** This file should be named 26693-8.txt or 26693-8.zip *****
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 147,
+August 26th, 1914, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, August 26th, 1914
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Owen Seaman
+
+Release Date: September 23, 2008 [EBook #26693]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<h1>PUNCH,<br />
+
+OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+
+<h2>VOL. 147</h2>
+<hr class="full" />
+<h2><span class="sc">August 26, 1914.</span></h2>
+<hr class="full" />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>
+
+<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2>
+
+<p>An eclipse of the sun took place on Friday last. It is supposed to have
+been an attempt on the part of the sun to prevent the Germans finding a
+place in it.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>South Africa has now declared with no uncertain voice that she intends
+to fight under the British Flag, and the <span class="sc">Kaiser's</span> vexation on realising
+that the money spent on a certain famous telegram was sheer waste is
+said to have been pitiable.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>We hear, by the way, that <span class="sc">His Imperial Majesty</span> is also extremely annoyed
+that so many English people should be resuming their summer holidays at
+the seaside. This is considered a slight on the power and ubiquity of
+the German Navy.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Some idea of how well the secret of their ultimate destination was kept
+even from the soldiers of our expeditionary force may be gathered from
+the fact that their favourite song on arriving in France was "It's a
+long way to Tip-per-ar-y."</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>The German newspapers no doubt perceive in this a reference to our Civil
+War in Ireland.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>We are glad that the lie about the cutting-up of the Black Watch has
+been scotched. May they yet live to be "The Black Watch on the Rhine."</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>A gentleman writes to <i>The Observer</i> to mention that an American
+surgeon, on bidding him farewell the other day, remarked, "Blood is
+thicker than water." This statement, coming from a medical man, who
+ought to know, is extremely valuable.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<center><span class="sc">"The Goeben's Inglorious Scuttle."</span></center>
+<p class="author"><i>Daily Mail.</i></p>
+<center>Yes, and now full of Turkey's coal.</center>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>The London Museum is open again. The Curator, we understand, would be
+glad to add to his collection of curiosities any Londoner who is still
+in favour of a small Navy.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>The Devon and Somerset stag-hounds have stopped hunting, and there is
+said to be a movement on foot among the local stags in favour of passing
+a vote of thanks to a certain mad dog.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Which reminds us that that rare spectacle, a smile on the face of an
+oyster, may now be seen. It has been decided that the Whitstable oyster
+feast shall not be held this year.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>The Duc <span class="sc">d'Orl&eacute;ans</span> has sent back to the <span class="sc">Austrian Emperor</span> the collar of
+the Golden Fleece which His Majesty conferred on him in 1896. One can
+understand a Frenchman objecting to being collared by an Austrian.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>It is, as is well known, an ill wind that blows no one any good. As a
+result of the War the proceedings of the British Association are not
+being reported at their usual length in our newspapers.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Another little advantage arising out of the War seems to have escaped
+notice. Owing to the fact that such Germans as are left among us eat
+much more quietly than formerly in order not to attract attention to
+themselves, it is now possible to hear an orchestra at a restaurant.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>The horse-race habit is, we suppose, difficult to shed. A newsvendor was
+heard shouting the other day, "European War. Result!"</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>"An artist who called at a famous firm of etching printers," a
+contemporary tells us, "found the men were away printing bank-notes." We
+trust that they were authorised to do so.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>"Cambridge public-houses," we read, "are to close at 9 <span class="sc">P.M.</span>" Such dons
+as are still up for the Long Vacation are said to be taking it gamely in
+spite of the inconvenience of accustoming themselves to the new
+regulation.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Every day one has fresh examples of how the War is putting an end to our
+internecine rivalries. For instance, <i>The Daily Mail</i> is now issuing the
+"Standard" History of the War.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Some of our contemporaries are referring to the Germans as "Modern
+Huns." We would point out that, as a matter of fact, they are not real
+Huns. They are wrong Huns.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>"Thousands of young men without ties," complains a writer in <i>The
+Express</i>, "remain indifferent to the call of their country." We are
+afraid that this is true not only of those without ties, but also of
+some who wear expensive cravats.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/175.png">
+<img src="images/175.png" width="100%" alt="FAIR LOOT" /></a>
+<h3>FAIR LOOT.</h3>
+<p><i>John Bull, A.B.</i> <span class="sc">"Well, I didn't start out for this; but there can't be
+any harm in picking up a good thing."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"The idea is to make it possible for every individual to register
+for himself a number at the General Post Office.... All you do is to
+address him, say: '105051, care General Post Office,' and the
+officials look up 05051's latest address and forward the letter."</p></div>
+
+<p>We fear that this is just what they would do.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"The members of Caldicot Wesleyan Church Sunday School had their
+annual summer tea on Tuesday in a field kindly lent by Mr. W. Howard
+of Church Farm."</p></div>
+
+<p>This comes under the heading "War Items" in <i>The Newport Evening Post</i>.
+On applying to the Official Press Bureau, however, we were unable to
+obtain from Mr. <span class="sc">F. E. Smith</span> any confirmation of the rumour.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"The Chairman put the vote, and there being no answering cries of
+'!' declared the vote carried <i>nemine contradicente</i>."</p></div>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Birmingham Daily Post.</i></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">After which the proceedings closed amid approving shouts of "&nbsp;<img src="images/175a.gif" height="20" width="45" alt="pointing finger" />&nbsp;."</p>
+
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"A large firm of contractors to hotels points out that a prominent
+form of waste is eating too much."&mdash;<i>Times.</i></p></div>
+
+<p>Conversely, eating too much brings on a prominent form of waist.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Motto for debtors: <i>Moratorium, te salutamus</i>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>
+
+<h2>THE CALL OF ENGLAND.</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>[Every lover of England is bound to give what he can spare&mdash;and
+something more&mdash;for the help of those who may suffer distress
+through the War. Gifts to the National Relief Fund should be
+addressed to H.R.H. The Prince of Wales, at Buckingham Palace.]</p></div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i2">Come, all ye who love her well,</p>
+<p class="i3">Ye whose hopes are one with hers,</p>
+<p class="i2">One with hers the hearts that swell</p>
+<p class="i3">When the pulse of memory stirs;</p>
+<p class="i2">She from whom your life ye take</p>
+<p class="i3">Claims you; how can you forget?</p>
+<p class="i2">Come, your honour stands at stake!</p>
+<p class="i4"><i>Pay your debt!</i></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i2">By her sons that hold the deep,</p>
+<p class="i3">Nerves at strain and sinews tense,</p>
+<p class="i2">Sleepless-eyed that ye may sleep</p>
+<p class="i3">Girdled in a fast defence;&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">By her sons that face the fire</p>
+<p class="i3">Where the battle-lines are set&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Give your country her desire!</p>
+<p class="i4"><i>Pay your debt!</i></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i2">He that, leaving child and wife</p>
+<p class="i3">In our keeping, unafraid,</p>
+<p class="i2">Goes to dare the deadly strife,</p>
+<p class="i3">Shall he see his trust betrayed?</p>
+<p class="i2">Shall he come again and find</p>
+<p class="i3">Hollow cheeks and eyelids wet?</p>
+<p class="i2">Guard them as your kith and kind!</p>
+<p class="i4"><i>Pay your debt!</i></p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i2">Sirs, we should be shamed indeed</p>
+<p class="i3">If the bitter cry for bread,</p>
+<p class="i2">Children's cries in cruel need,</p>
+<p class="i3">Rose and fell uncomforted!</p>
+<p class="i2">Ah, but since the patriot glow</p>
+<p class="i3">Burns in English bosoms yet,</p>
+<p class="i2">Twice and thrice ye will, I know,</p>
+<p class="i4">Pay your debt!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="author">O. S.</p>
+
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>A DETERMINED ISLAND.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>III.</h3>
+<p class="author"><i>August 19th.</i></p>
+
+<p>During this season of splendid weather you may be sure that we in
+Totland Bay have not been idle. We swim, men, women and children, and we
+perform great feats of diving from the moored rafts which the
+authorities have kindly provided for that purpose. And we toil off on
+the usual picnic parties and inhale great draughts of health as we lie
+on our backs on the heather-clad slopes of the hill. But even while we
+pursue these simple pleasures our thoughts are with the great warships
+in their ceaseless vigil in the North Sea or with the gallant fellows
+who slipped away under cover of the night and are now taking their place
+in the fighting line with our French and Belgian friends. England, too,
+it seems, can perform a great operation of war on sea and land, and can
+do it with a swiftness, a precision and a silence that no other nation
+could surpass. So we hold our heads high and are proud to reckon
+ourselves the fellow-countrymen of <span class="sc">Jellicoe</span> and <span class="sc">Kitchener</span>. We have begun
+well. May we have strength and resolution to endure without faltering to
+the end.</p>
+
+<p>I am glad to say that the sewing brigade, which I mentioned in my last,
+shows an ever-increasing activity. All good female Islanders are busy
+about the manufacture of pyjamas for the soldiery. One of the marks of
+patriotism amongst our ladies is the possession of a pair of pyjama
+legs. No picnic party is complete without them. When the men light their
+cigarettes the women bring out their pyjamas and add stitch upon stitch.
+Pyjama legs are awkward things in a breeze, being apt to flap about, but
+they are resolutely tucked round arms or otherwise restrained, and the
+needle continues its deft work in spite of all difficulties. Pyjama
+jackets, too, are of course made in the proper number, but they are not
+so dramatic in their movements as the legs, and I have not noticed them
+so much.</p>
+
+<p>I revert once more to <span class="sc">Kitchener's</span> triumphant feat in transporting our
+army to France. We are not very far from Southampton, whence some of the
+troops must have sailed, but beyond the merest vague rumours we heard
+nothing. One lady, a fortnight ago, had word from some one that a
+Belgian <i>padre</i> had seen trucks full of British soldiers in Belgium. A
+gentleman had heard from a school friend of his daughter that
+motor-'buses of the General Omnibus Company had been seen in Brussels in
+all their bravery of scarlet, apparently bound (if their painted
+announcements might be trusted) for Cricklewood <i>vi&acirc;</i> Brussels with a
+full complement of soldiery and stores. Another lady knew, she said,
+that her nephew, an officer, had already sailed for an unknown
+destination. These were the reports, and they left us all guessing.</p>
+
+<p>I am still in trouble about my tame alien, the children's maid, Maria
+Hasewitz. Her permit, obtained at Newport with some labour, authorises
+her to reside at Totland, but not to move more than five miles from the
+limits of that place. Having decided to leave Totland with family and
+household on Monday I have suddenly been brought up against the stone
+wall of Maria's alienship. It was obviously necessary to secure
+permission for this forlorn German girl to travel home with us. The idea
+of dropping Maria into the sea five miles from here could not be
+entertained, in spite of the fact that she is technically an enemy. So I
+applied, stating the facts, to the Chief Constable, who, with a
+promptitude and a courtesy which I desire to acknowledge, sent a
+sergeant to interview me. Struggling against that sense of general and
+undefined guilt which the propinquity of a police officer always
+inspires and striving to assume an air of frank and confident honesty, I
+approached the sergeant and learnt from him that, this being a
+prohibited area, the Chief Constable could not give the required
+permission to travel without the express authority of the <span class="sc">Home
+Secretary</span>, to whom he begged to refer me. I urged that it would be a
+profound relief to the Chief Constable to get rid even of an alien so
+harmless as Maria; but this plea the sergeant at once put aside. I have
+therefore written to the <span class="sc">Home Secretary</span>. If he refuses I wonder what
+will happen to Maria.</p>
+
+<p>P.S.&mdash;The Home Office has replied authorising Maria to embark at Ryde
+and land at Portsmouth. This is like telling a Londoner to embark at
+Hull and land at Bristol on his way to Windsor. I have telegraphed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Later.</i>&mdash;The Home Office permits Maria to embark at Totland and land at
+Lymington. All is at last well.</p>
+
+<p class="author">R. C. L.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>Extract from "Notes from an Alsatian Valley" in <i>Chambers' Journal</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"As a last word about this charming country, may I point out its
+advantages as a holiday playground? It offers attractions of many
+kinds to the sportsman.... The climate ... remains singularly warm
+right up to the end of October."</p></div>
+
+<p>Rather <i>too</i> hot a playground for holiday-makers just now.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 55%">
+<a href="images/177.png">
+<img src="images/177.png" width="100%" alt="THE COMING OF THE COSSACKS." /></a>
+<h3>THE COMING OF THE COSSACKS.</h3>
+<p><span class="sc">Wilhelm II.</span> "WHAT IS THIS
+DISTANT RUMBLING THAT I HEAR? DOUBTLESS THE PLAUDITS OF MY PEOPLE!"</p>
+</div>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 70%">
+<a href="images/179.png">
+<img src="images/179.png" width="100%" alt="Zealous Policeman on German Spy duty" /></a>
+
+<p><i>Zealous Policeman (on German Spy duty, having got
+motorist's name and address, etc., and received, in answer to his
+further question, "And is this lady your wife?" a torrent of oaths very
+much in the vernacular).</i> "<span class="sc">Oh! Pass along; you're a Britisher all
+right.</span>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE NEW NEWS.</h2>
+
+<p>While cordially endorsing all the deserved tributes that have lately
+been paid to the tact and loyalty of our daily Press, we venture to
+express a hope that the practice of printing every kind of contradictory
+war report will not become of universal application to other forms of
+intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>Imagine, for example, being confronted with this kind of thing in the
+Cricket specials:&mdash;</p>
+
+<center>KENT <i>v.</i> LANCASHIRE.</center><br />
+
+<center><span class="sc">The Great Match Begun.</span></center>
+
+<p>A telegram from Canterbury, dated 11 <span class="sc">A.M.</span>, Aug 18th, states that the
+great match has actually begun. No details are given.</p>
+
+<center><span class="sc">Amazing Lancastrian Victory.</span></center>
+
+<p>Rumour's Agency learns that the resistance of Kent has everywhere been
+entirely overcome; no fewer than forty-three of the home side have been
+dismissed for sixteen runs. Twenty-nine wickets fell before lunch.</p>
+
+<p><i>Maidstone, Aug.</i> 19. [<i>Delayed in transmission</i>].&mdash;The team has arrived
+in Canterbury. Captain <span class="sc">Troughton</span>, in a stirring address, pointed out
+that hostilities had been forced upon the county, which however would
+not be found unprepared. The greatest enthusiasm prevails among the
+team, who are in capital health. <span class="sc">Woolley</span> especially was never in better
+form.</p>
+
+<center><span class="sc">Startling Report.</span></center>
+
+<p>A private telegram received in Liverpool states that <span class="sc">Sharp</span> took
+seventeen wickets for no runs in eleven minutes. Up to the time of going
+to press this had not been officially confirmed.</p>
+
+<p><i>Dover.</i>&mdash;No credence is attached here to the reported success of
+Lancashire. It is pointed out that in any case the figures given must be
+greatly overestimated, not more than eleven men being employed on either
+side. Most probably the casualties include both umpires and spectators,
+and these losses would have no real effect on the game.</p>
+
+<p><i>Manchester.</i>&mdash;It is confirmed here that <span class="sc">Woolley</span> has resigned.</p>
+
+<p><i>Canterbury, noon, Aug. 18.</i> (<i>From our Special Correspondent.</i>)&mdash;At
+last I am able to send you definite information. Amidst a scene of
+breathless enthusiasm the two Captains prepared to toss. A roar of
+cheering soon afterwards proclaimed that the coin had declared in favour
+of&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>[Message breaks off here and has evidently been censored.]</p>
+
+<p>Folkestone unofficial wires state that at lunch the scores stood&mdash;Kent
+all out 463: Lancashire 14 for 2 wickets (both taken by <span class="sc">Woolley</span>).</p>
+
+<center><span class="sc">Stop Press.</span></center>
+
+<p>The Press Bureau have just issued a statement that no play has yet been
+possible in the Kent v. Lancashire match on account of rain.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Pingoism in Japan may be matched by Jingoism here."&mdash;<i>Pittsburgh
+Press.</i></p></div>
+
+<p>Pingoism should be carefully distinguished from pongoism.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<center>"<span class="sc">Silence of the British Virgil.</span></center>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The awful silence of the British virgil in the North Sea is unbroken
+still."</p></div>
+
+<p class="author"><i>Newcastle Daily Journal.</i></p>
+
+<p>We are glad to see our old friend <span class="sc">Virgil</span> spoken of as British. It is, no
+doubt, the writer's forcible way of indicating Italy's sympathy.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>
+
+<h2>OUR WAR MAP.</h2>
+
+<p>I have bought a war map. My newspaper told me to, and I did. It came
+yesterday with a host of little coloured flags on pins.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/180a.png">
+<img src="images/180a.png" width="100%" alt="German Bird." /></a>
+<p><i>German Bird.</i> "<span class="sc">I see it doesn't say anything about
+eagles.</span>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Helen and I surveyed it critically.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's only an ordinary map of Europe," she said disgustedly.</p>
+
+<p>"It won't be," I said, "when we've stuck the flags in."</p>
+
+<p>I removed a picture and pinned the map to the wall.</p>
+
+<p>"First of all there's Belgrade," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"Where?" asked Helen eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Er, er&mdash;somewhere round here, I know.... I do believe they've forgotten
+to put it in...."</p>
+
+<p>Gladys (who is only ten) found it for us eventually, and we arranged a
+very fine battle there with a river in between.</p>
+
+<p>The Meuse was easier. We infested its banks with our hosts and fixed a
+splendid array of troops all along the Franco-German frontier. Next we
+invaded Germany and Austria from the other side with several Russian
+armies and put some local troops to meet them. Without boasting, I think
+I may say the result was very pretty. But to our dismay we found we had
+a number of armies left. Helen said they must fight somewhere.</p>
+
+<p>"You can't keep all those troops idle," she said. "Look at the waste of
+good material."</p>
+
+<p>"That's true," I admitted. "Perhaps my newspaper can help."</p>
+
+<p>It did indeed contain enough rumours of battles to dispose of all our
+flags and a few dozen besides, but at the same time it urged me to
+accept unofficial statements with the greatest reserve. Mr. <span class="sc">F. E. Smith</span>,
+it declared (it was a Liberal print; such are the vicissitudes of war)
+was the only reliable authority. Helen and I decided we could accept
+information from him alone. But Mr. <span class="sc">Smith</span> gave us no help. I was worried
+for the moment, I admit; here were all these armies left in the envelope
+with nowhere to go to.</p>
+
+<p>Then I had an inspiration such as comes to a man but seldom in a
+lifetime. The Fates should decide.</p>
+
+<p>I pushed the furniture out of the way, led Helen to the other side of
+the room, blindfolded her, and thrust a British army into her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"The idea is to walk across the room without looking and stick it
+somewhere on the map," I explained. "Scandinavia and the Peninsula are
+out of bounds until we hear further from the <span class="sc">Kaiser</span>. If you hit them you
+have another prod."</p>
+
+<p>Helen planted her army near Moscow. I took a Servian flag and planted it
+in the North Sea.</p>
+
+<p>The game was very exciting while it lasted. I consider that I won it by
+placing a French force in the environs of Vienna, an extraordinarily
+good move. My newspaper would have been glad of the suggestion, I am
+sure.</p>
+
+<p>Gladys was handicapped by her height, but, taking everything into
+consideration, I think she arranged some quite nice struggles in Sicily
+and the Principality of Monaco.</p>
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/180b.png">
+<img src="images/180b.png" width="100%" alt="Take courage, my brave Germans." /></a>
+<p><i>The Hohenzollern (megaphonically).</i> "<span class="sc">Take courage, my
+brave Germans. Your Kaiser is prepared to sacrifice a million of you.</span>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Wilkinson came in after dinner. He collects the latest rumours and edits
+them really well. Usually Helen and I find it wise to accept all his
+statements without a murmur, but yesterday I disagreed with him.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry," I said gently, "but I don't think you've got things quite
+right. This is more like the position of things at present," and I waved
+my arm in the direction of our war map.</p>
+
+<p>When at last he regained speech he made some remarks which might have
+given offence to people less sure of themselves than I.</p>
+
+<p>"No," I said, "I do know the flags of the nations, and so does my wife.
+But I must beg you to keep that map a secret. You see, I have a friend
+in the inner circle who has given me some information of which the
+outside world knows nothing. I can rely on your discretion, I am sure."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, my dear fellow." He seemed dazed and strangely silent. He
+had one long last look at the map and departed muttering to himself: "A
+Belgian fleet off the Outer Hebrides! French troops in Nijni Novgorod!!
+A Montenegrin squadron menacing Mitylene!!!"</p>
+
+<p>It is strange how strong the force of habit is. I went to the City as
+usual to-day. At lunch I met Collins, who told me he had it on very good
+authority that there was an Austrian fleet bombarding the forts along
+the Mersey and that a combined force of French and Russians had crossed
+the Dutch frontier from Arnheim and was advancing on Berlin.</p>
+
+<p>I hurried home to record these new developments on my map, and was
+compelled, through shortage of flags, to displace the Servian fleet from
+the North Sea and Gladys's Belgian contingent from Monte Carlo.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h4>ANOTHER IMPENDING APOLOGY.</h4>
+
+<p>"500,000 copies of 'With the Flag to Pretoria' were sold a few days
+after publication and thousands were disappointed."&mdash;<i>Advt.</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/181.png">
+<img src="images/181.png" width="100%"  alt="A FAUX PAS." /></a>
+<h3>A FAUX PAS.</h3>
+<p><i>London Hawker</i> (<i>addressing obvious Teuton</i>). "<span class="sc">Wear yer flag, Sir.</span>"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>IN THE CITY.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Because beneath grey Northern skies</p>
+<p class="i2">Some grey hulls heave and fall,</p>
+<p class="i0">The merchants sell their merchandise</p>
+<p class="i2">All just as usual;</p>
+<p class="i0">Our cargoes sail for man's content</p>
+<p class="i2">The same as yesterday,</p>
+<p class="i0">And war-risk's down to 2 per cent.,</p>
+<p class="i2">The underwriters say.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The clerks they sit with page and pen</p>
+<p class="i2">And fill the desks a-row,</p>
+<p class="i0">Because outside of Cuxhaven</p>
+<p class="i2">There's them to make it so;</p>
+<p class="i0">We go to lunch, as natural,</p>
+<p class="i2">From one o'clock till two,</p>
+<p class="i0">Because outside of Kiel Canal</p>
+<p class="i2">There's those that let us do.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">We check and add our pass-books up</p>
+<p class="i2">Or keep our weekly Boards</p>
+<p class="i0">Unhampered by the works of <span class="sc">Krupp</span></p>
+<p class="i2">And all the <span class="sc">Kaiser's</span> swords;</p>
+<p class="i0">At five o'clock we have our tea</p>
+<p class="i2">And catch our usual bus&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i0">So thank the <span class="sc">Lord</span> for those at sea</p>
+<p class="i2">Who guard the likes of us.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<center>THE COWARDLY CONSUMERS CO-OPERATIVE COMPANY.</center>
+
+<p>The C.C.C.C. has been formed to provide for the wants of unpatriotic or
+panic-stricken persons in all parts of the country.</p>
+
+<center>WRITE TO US TO-DAY.</center><br />
+
+<center><span class="sc">We have made Complete Arrangements for Your Convenience.</span></center><br /><br />
+<center>A FULL DINNER-TABLE FOR YOU WHILE OTHERS STARVE.</center>
+
+<p><span class="sc">Hors d'&oelig;uvres.</span>&mdash;Ensure your <i>hors d'&oelig;uvres</i> by allowing us to turn
+your bath into a sardine tank. Your basement too should make an
+excellent oyster bed. We would flood it for you.</p>
+
+<p><span class="sc">Soups.</span>&mdash;The mock turtles we supply are quite tame, and while waiting to
+be made into soup should keep your children amused. We also deliver
+Salted Oxtail by the furlong. Send for patterns.</p>
+
+<p><span class="sc">Fish.</span>&mdash;Try one of our Frozen Whales and assure your fish course for the
+next six months.</p>
+
+<p><span class="sc">Joints.</span>&mdash;Sheep-folds (with sheep) supplied at shortest notice to fit
+your tennis court, or you might order one of our Handy Styes, which have
+accommodation for half-a-dozen pigs (congenial company) and are suitable
+for erection in a corner of any flat or private residence.</p>
+
+<p><span class="sc">Sweets.</span>&mdash;Our "one ton" plum puddings placed in position on your premises
+by our own cranes.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<center><span class="sc">Read Our Testimonials.</span></center>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>A Grateful Customer writes</i>:&mdash;"Your transformation of my boudoir
+into a hen-pen is quite admirable, and enables us to face the future
+with complete calm. As your circular reminds us, one feels more
+comfortable about one's country when one is safe oneself."</p>
+
+<p><i>Another writes</i>:&mdash;"Many thanks for prompt attention. The
+night-nursery makes an excellent cow-house, and the two cows used
+the passenger-lift with perfect success."</p></div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<center>WRITE US FOR QUOTATIONS FOR ANY QUANTITY OF PROVISIONS REQUIRED.</center>
+
+<p>So long as the order is large enough we will execute it. No orders for
+less value than &pound;50 accepted.</p>
+
+<center><span class="sc"><i>Special Notice.</i></span></center>
+
+<p>Our Hoarding Department has prepared a neat stocking capable of holding
+750 sovereigns. Please ask to see one.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>All goods are delivered in our own heavily armoured pantechnicons.</p>
+
+<p>A charming miniature White Feather, suitable for personal adornment,
+will be presented to all customers.</p>
+
+<p>Take no notice whatever of any warnings in the newspapers not to buy
+largely. Think of yourselves. It is only you who matter. Buy now; buy
+quantities.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>From the regulations governing special constables:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"A special constable guilty of misconduct may be suspended from
+duty, and, if so suspended, shall forthwith give up his warrant
+card, truncheon, armlet, and whistle to the police officer
+suspending him."</p></div>
+
+<p>What tune must he whistle to him?</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Admiral Jellicoe has a reputation for thoroughness in the naval
+service, but a story which shows his kindly nature was told to me
+to-day (says 'F.' in the 'Citizen'). A defence boom was being
+constructed at Sheerness, and the admiral was dissatisfied with it.
+He told the officer in command of some defects, and said it was not
+so good as the boom at Portsmouth."</p></div>
+
+<p>We feel sure there must be even better stories about him than this.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>
+
+<h2>"THEY ALSO SERVE."</h2>
+
+<p>Jeremy threw away the stump of his after-dinner cigar and began to light
+another one.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's the economy of giving up smoking when you've got lots of cigars
+in the house?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jeremy," said his wife, "who says you ought to?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Vicar. He only smokes one non-throat cigarette a day himself. I
+told him he ought to give that up, but he said it was different. I say,
+it will want rather a large soldier for that shirt, won't it?" He sat on
+the arm of his wife's chair and began to play with the sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>"Jeremy, can't you find something to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes." He went out and returned with his golf clubs, which he began to
+polish lovingly. "I think I shall have a round to-morrow. If <span class="sc">Francis
+Drake</span> played bowls when the Spanish Fleet was in sight, I don't see why
+Jeremy Smith shouldn't play golf when the German Fleet is out of sight."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you said you weren't going to till the war was over?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why I shouldn't. Golf keeps us fit, and it is the duty of
+every Englishman to be fit just now."</p>
+
+<p>"But you really play golf because you like it."</p>
+
+<p>Jeremy looked up at her in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Really," he said, "I don't see why I shouldn't like doing my duty."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Jeremy!" sighed his wife. "You know I didn't mean that."</p>
+
+<p>"I know exactly what you meant." He dropped his clubs and began to pace
+the room. "You're filled with the idea that the only way a man can serve
+his country is by doing something he absolutely detests. That's why you
+made me a special constable." He stopped and glared at her. "A special
+constable! Me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Darling, it was your own idea entirely."</p>
+
+<p>"You said to yourself, 'There are men who would make excellent special
+constables&mdash;men with red faces and angry moustaches who take naturally
+to ordering other people about, men who instinctively push their way
+into the middle of a row when they see one, men with a lust for gore,
+great powerful men who have learnt ju-jitsu. But the fact that they'd
+all rather like it shows that it can't really be their duty to join;
+they wouldn't be making a big enough sacrifice. The men we want are the
+quiet, the mild, the inoffensive, the butterflies of life, the men who
+would simply loathe being special constables, the men who would be
+entirely useless at it'&mdash;and, having said this to yourself, you looked
+round and you saw <i>me</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Jeremy smiled and shook her head at her husband, sighed again, and
+returned to her work.</p>
+
+<p>"And so now I'm a special constable, and I wear a belt and a truncheon,
+and what good do I do? Baby loves it, I admit that; Baby admires me
+immensely. When Nurse says, 'If you're not a good girl the special
+constable will be after you,' Baby shrieks with delight. But officially,
+in the village, I am useless.... Oh but I forgot, I arrested a man this
+morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Jeremy, and you never told me!" said Mrs. Jeremy excitedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I wasn't quite sure at the time whether I arrested him or he
+arrested me. But in the clearer light of evening I see that it was
+really I who was doing the arresting. At any rate it was I who had the
+belt and the note-book."</p>
+
+<p>"Was it a German spy?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, it was old Jack, rather drunk. I arrested him for being intoxicated
+on a bridge&mdash;the one over the brook, you know, by Claytons. He put his
+arm round my neck and we started for the Haverley police-station
+together. I didn't want to go to the police-station, because it's three
+miles off, but Jack insisted.... He had me tight by the neck. I couldn't
+even make a note."</p>
+
+<p>"Wasn't he afraid of your truncheon?"</p>
+
+<p>"My darling, one couldn't hit old Jack with a truncheon; he's such a
+jolly old boy when he's sober." Jeremy played nervously with his wife's
+scissors, and added, "Besides he was doing things with the truncheon
+himself."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of things?"</p>
+
+<p>"Conducting the <i>Marseillaise</i> chiefly&mdash;we marched along in time to it."
+A smile spread slowly over Jeremy's face as the scene came back to him.
+"It must have looked splendid."</p>
+
+<p>"How dared he?" said Mrs. Jeremy indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well, if you make your husband a special constable you must expect
+these things. I consoled myself with the thought that I was doing my
+duty ... and that there was nobody about. You see, we made a detour and
+missed Haverley, and when we were nearly home again he left me. I mean I
+released him. You know, I'm not what I call a <i>good</i> special constable.
+I did what I could, but there must be more in it than that."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Jeremy looked up and blew a kiss to him.</p>
+
+<p>"However," he went on, "I dropped in on him this evening and made him
+sign the pledge."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there you are; you <i>have</i> done some good."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but I hadn't got my truncheon on then. I spoke as Jeremy Smith,
+Esq." He put a brassey to his shoulder and said, "Bang," and went on, "I
+should be no good at all at the front, and Lord <span class="sc">Kitchener</span> would be no
+good trying to paint my water-colours, but all the same I scored an
+inner last night. The scene at the range when it got about that the
+President had scored an inner was one of wild enthusiasm. When the news
+is flashed to Berlin it will give the <span class="sc">German Emperor</span> pause. Do you know
+that the most unpatriotic thing you can do is to make shirts for the
+wounded, when there are lots of poor women in the village who'd be only
+too glad of the job? Like little Miss Merton. And yet you think to get
+out of it by making your husband a special constable."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Jeremy put down her work and went over to her husband and knelt by
+his chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know," she said, taking his hands in hers, "that there isn't a
+man, woman or child in this village who is idle or neglected or
+forgotten? That those who wanted to enlist have been encouraged and told
+how to, and that those who didn't want to have been shown other ways of
+helping? That it's all been done without any fuss or high-falutin or
+busy-bodying, and chiefly because of an absurd husband of mine who never
+talks seriously about anything, but somehow manages to make everybody
+else willing and good-tempered?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is that a fact?" said Jeremy, rather pleased.</p>
+
+<p>"It is. And this absurd husband didn't understand how much he was
+helping, and he had an idea that he ought to do something thoroughly
+uncomfortable, so he ordered a truncheon and gave up golf and made
+himself quite miserable ... and then put it all on to his wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, why didn't you stop me?" said Jeremy helplessly.</p>
+
+<p>"I wasn't going to be a drag on you; if you'd volunteered for a
+submarine I should have said nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"I should be useless in a submarine," said Jeremy thoughtfully; "I
+should only fall over the white mice. But I really thought you
+wanted&mdash;&mdash; Why then," he cried happily, "I might play golf to-morrow,
+you think?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you would," said Mrs. Jeremy.</p>
+
+<p>Jeremy took up his brassey and addressed an imaginary ball.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Jeremy Smith playing golf in a crisis," he said. "Subject for
+historical picture."</p>
+
+<p class="author">A. A. M.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/183.png">
+<img src="images/183.png" width="100%" alt="A DESPERATE MEASURE." /></a>
+<h3>A DESPERATE MEASURE.</h3>
+<p><i>West Country Skipper</i> (<i>stationary in small Cornish port and ignorant
+of our Navy's control of the sea</i>). <span class="sc">"If I puts out an' goes East I be
+sunk by t' Germans, an' if I goes South I be sunk by t'
+Austria-'Ungrians. It du seem as 'ow I were best to bide where I be an'
+gi' t' old ship a coat o' paaint!"</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE WATCH DOGS.</h2>
+
+<p><span class="sc">My dear Bill</span>,&mdash;It is now upwards of a fortnight since we were torn
+asunder, I being taken away to cope with the Germans and you being left
+at home to protect our property against the predatory attacks of our
+landlady. I imagine you would like to know how things are going with me,
+but please don't trouble to answer, for I don't in the least want to
+know how things are going with you. No one does, my boy; you are what we
+refer to as a <i>something</i> civilian. You must forgive us, Bill; it is one
+of the too few pleasures in the life of the mobilized Territorial.</p>
+
+<p>Has that rosy, well-groomed body of yours ever sought repose on the
+tessellated floor of a public hall? Has it ever washed itself in an
+enamel mug? Has it ever set out on a round of visits with luggage
+limited to 35 lbs., inclusive of its bed? No, nor had mine before; and
+yet it doesn't seem to suffer much harm from the experience. What is
+more, we are beginning to find scope for little luxuries even in this
+narrow compass; there are mess tins, for instance, of the larger sort in
+which one may, with a little ingenuity, have a complete bath.</p>
+
+<p>When I set off last Tuesday week, with my chest out and my eyes right, I
+only got as far as the Infants School round the corner, where my company
+was foregathered. Here we spent our time, the hundred odd of us, getting
+together the necessaries of life: the most formidable of these was
+undoubtedly the housewife. I confess to a faint heart when I think of
+myself darning my socks in off moments between battles.</p>
+
+<p>From the Infants School we went to the Town Hall to join the Battalion,
+and the thousand of us marched to our war station, some thirty miles
+away. I hope I looked like a soldier as I stepped out, but I felt more
+like a general stores with all my stock hanging in my shop window. Next
+time I do this sort of thing I'm going to have a row of pegs on my back
+and an extra storey in my head-gear for oddments. There is no denying
+that the whole arrangement is an efficient one, the only failure being
+the cellar equipment. It seems to me that the War Office ought to have
+discovered some shady nook about the human body where one's drinking
+water could be kept cool. Also I think they have wasted space by not
+utilizing the inside of one's field-glasses for the carriage of
+something or other. A combination sword and razor would also be an
+economy.</p>
+
+<p>We increased in numbers as we progressed. At our war-station we joined
+the Brigade, making us four thousand in all, and from there we joined
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> Division, becoming about sixteen thousand. If we go on at this
+pace, we shall be getting into the millions soon, and then I think
+somebody's meals <i>must</i> be overlooked. There's bound to be some limit to
+the capacity of these organizing people, although it certainly hasn't
+appeared yet. They moved our Brigade two hundred miles by train with
+less shouting and fuss than is usual with the single British family
+mobilising for its seaside resort. Their system of train-catching
+however is worth mentioning.</p>
+
+<p>Section Commanders were told to have their section ready by six-thirty.
+That was the order issued by us Lieutenants responsible for
+half-companies. We had been told to be ready by seven o'clock, under a
+threat of execution on the following dawn. Hence the margin of half an
+hour. We took our orders from our Captains, who had them from the
+Majors, who had them from the Adjutant, who had them from the C.O., who
+had them from the Brigadier, who had them from goodness knows where.
+Every rank is prepared to be shot, if need be, but desires, if possible,
+not to have it happen at dawn; so each officer, taking his order from
+his superior, puts on his margin before instructing his inferior.</p>
+
+<p>The Brigadier came round this morning to have a look at a guard. He
+found our one and only T. B. Ponks doing sentry. "Turn out the guard,"
+was the order. "Eh?" was the response. "Where is the guard?" asked the
+flushed suite. "A dunno," said T. B. The suite was inclined to be fussy,
+but our Brigadier is essentially human. "Where are the other lads?" he
+asked genially. "They 'm in theer," said T. B., pointing to the entrance
+with no particular enthusiasm. The Brigadier and his staff made as if to
+enter. "'Ere, you," called T. B., now galvanized into activity, "you
+can't go in theer," and he barred the way. We have since been lectured
+on the elements of military ceremonial, but at the same time we have
+been asked to volunteer as a unit for the fighting line if need be. I
+think the Brigadier has his doubts as to how T. B. and his sort will
+impress the Allies, but feels quite confident of their manner towards
+the enemy. It was the same T. B. who, being sent by the magnificent
+Lieutenant d'Arcy to summon Lance-Corporal Brown, was overheard calling,
+"Hi, Mr. Brown, d'Arcy wants yer."</p>
+
+<p>I must break off here, for I have had an intimation from Private Cox
+that now is my opportunity to see his bare feet. A fortnight ago I might
+have hesitated to accept this kind invitation; to-day I insist upon his
+bringing them along at once. In fact, my hobby in life is other people's
+feet; I have fitted a hundred pairs of them with socks and with boots,
+and I have assisted personally at the pricking of their blisters and the
+trimming of their excrescences. What a fall from our intellectual
+heights! But so it is with us, Bill; if we can once get those boys' feet
+in sound marching order, all the nice problems of the human soul which
+we used to canvass may go to the&mdash;&mdash;. But I suppose that I must reserve
+that word for military use.</p>
+
+<p>By the way, when the battalion was asked to volunteer, the men only
+raised one point. They didn't trouble themselves about the work or the
+risk of it, but they wondered whether anybody really <i>would</i> look after
+their homes and dependants when the excitement had died down a little.
+Their scepticism may be due to a certain music-hall comedian who used to
+declare as follows:&mdash;&mdash;"And if, gentlemen, this glorious old country of
+ours shall ever be involved in war, I know, I say, gentlemen, that I
+know, there is not a man in this hall to-night who will fail to turn out
+and see the troops off."</p>
+
+<p>But to-day things are different, and these boys of ours, a noisy,
+troublesome and magnificent crew, need have no fear about the homes they
+leave behind them.</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+Yours ever,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;"><span class="sc">Henry</span>.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"<span class="sc">Wanted</span>.&mdash;Girls to sort nuts."</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Advt. in "Liverpool Echo."</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>The object is to find if there are any without grease on their hair.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/184.png">
+<img src="images/184.png" width="100%" alt="HOW WE SAVED THE HARVEST" /></a>
+<h3>HOW WE SAVED THE HARVEST AT SLOSHINGTON-ON-SEA.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/185.png">
+<img src="images/185.png" width="100%" alt="THE TRIUMPH OF CULTURE." /></a>
+<h3>THE TRIUMPH OF "CULTURE."</h3>
+</div>
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%">
+<a href="images/187.png">
+<img src="images/187.png" width="100%" alt="THE MISFORTUNE OF WAR." /></a>
+<h3>THE MISFORTUNE OF WAR.</h3>
+<p><i>Tired Tim.</i> <span class="sc">"'Ere, I don't arf like the look o' this, Bill."</span></p>
+<p><i>Work-shy Willy.</i> <span class="sc">"No, more don't I, mate. Cuss that there Kaiser!"</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>FELINE AMENITIES.</h2>
+
+<p>Thanks to the courtesy of the Editor we are able to publish the
+following selections from the stories about cats sent in for the prize
+competition organised by <i>The Scottish Meekly</i>. The first received a
+complete edition of the sermons of Dr. Angus McHuish, the second a
+mounted photograph of Sir Nicholson Roberts, and the third a superb
+simulation gold pencil-case.</p>
+
+<center><span class="sc">The Life-Story of a Wild Cat.</span></center>
+
+<p>Here is a true story of a wild stray cat which I hope may interest your
+readers. Some years ago I lived with my parents (my father being a
+retired manufacturer of artificial eyes) on the banks of the river
+Dodder, near Dundrum. In the back-garden there was an old summer-house,
+where we used to store cabbages, disused kippers, Carlsbad plums and
+other odds and ends, and here a stray cat took up his abode in an empty
+porter cask during the latter part of January, 1901. He was of some rare
+breed and very beautiful in appearance&mdash;a blend between a marmadillo and
+a young loofah&mdash;but so savage that no one dared to touch him. During the
+cold months of the year we placed bottles of stout in the summer-house
+for him, the corks of which he drew with his claws, which were
+remarkably long. In the summer-time he used to forage for himself,
+subsisting mainly on roach, with an occasional conger-eel which he
+caught in the Dodder. One day early in April, 1902, the cat&mdash;whom we
+called Beethoven, because of his indulgence in moonlight fantasias&mdash;came
+to the back door mewing, and on opening the door my father found that it
+had lost an eye&mdash;probably in a fight&mdash;and evidently wished him to supply
+the loss artificially, which he did. I have never heard a cat purr so
+loudly as Beethoven did on that occasion. After that he completely lost
+his shyness and became quite one of the family, singing in the choir on
+Sundays and contributing to the larder during the week by his skill as a
+fisherman. He lived with us until a few months ago, when he unhappily
+died through inadvertently swallowing a cork. He is buried in our
+garden, and on the stone are inscribed the following lines composed by
+my mother&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Here lies Beethoven in his grave,</p>
+<p class="i0">No earthly power could him save;</p>
+<p class="i0">An envious cork blocked up his breath</p>
+<p class="i0">And that was how he met his death.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="author">
+<span class="sc">Mrs. Pullar Legge.</span></p>
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Marine Villas, Brondesbury.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<center><span class="sc">Cat or Chameleon?</span></center>
+
+<p>Piffles was a splendid pink Circassian&mdash;perfect in colour and shape,
+with glorious topaz eyes. But the extraordinary thing about him was a
+gift that he had for changing his colour. Thus my uncle, an old
+Anglo-Indian who always drank a bottle of Madeira after dinner, declared
+that from 10 <span class="sc">P.M.</span> onwards Piffles invariably seemed to him to be a
+bright crimson with green spots. Another peculiarity of Piffles was that
+he always followed the guns out shooting, and used to retrieve birds
+from the most difficult places. He practically ruled the household, took
+the boys back to school after the holidays, attended family prayers, and
+was learning to play the pianola when he was unfortunately killed by a
+crocodile which escaped from a travelling menagerie.</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+<span class="sc">(Miss) Ivy Wagg.</span></p>
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>The Oaks, Long Boughton.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<center><span class="sc">A Feline Practical Joker.</span></center>
+
+<p>Last year I had a cat who, whenever she was offended, used to go to my
+bedroom and throw various articles out of the window. I was constantly
+finding purses, powder-puffs, artificial teeth, safety-pins, hymn-books,
+etc., on the lawn, and never suspected the culprit until she was caught
+in the act.</p>
+
+<p>She also had a habit of sitting on the top of the front door and
+dropping golf-balls on the head of the postman, whom, either for his red
+hair or his Radical opinions, she disliked bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>She would eat and drink anything, including ice-pudding and green
+Chartreuse, and was always peculiarly cheerful on Thursday evenings,
+when <i>The Scottish Meekly</i> reaches our house.</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+<span class="sc">D. Monk Howson.</span></p>
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Steep Bank, Grogport.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/188.png">
+<img src="images/188.png" width="90%" alt="Better &#39;ave one and read about it now" /></a>
+<p><span class="sc">"Better 'ave one and read about it now, Sir; it might be
+conteradicted in the morning."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE SCRATCH HANDICAP.</h2>
+
+<p>"What do you do?" asked Charles, "when people want you to play
+lawn-tennis?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sometimes I play," I said. "Sometimes I send Sophonisba. Sometimes I
+tell them that my head-keeper is away and I am obliged to look after the
+lop-ears. What happens to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you know what lawn-tennis is like nowadays. In the bygone
+butter-pat era I could hold my own with the best of them. Golf had
+hardly come in, and when one wasn't playing cricket, and the spilliken
+set had been mislaid, and tiddley-winks was voted too rough, a couple of
+sets or so was rather fun. Soft undulating courts, very hard to keep a
+footing on, and plenty of sticks and leaves to assist one's screws, and
+patches of casual whiting here and there so that you could say that it
+wasn't a fault but hit the line. Now all that is changed.
+Panther-limbed, hawk-eyed young persons leap about the lawn dressed in
+white from top to toe. They play on fast and level lawns, entirely
+circumscribed by a kind of deep-sea trawling apparatus. They want you to
+hit hard and well. I have only two strokes when I hit hard. One of them
+pierces the bottom of the seine or drag-net fixed across the fairway,
+the other brings the man round from the next-door garden but two to say
+that his cucumbers are catching cold. And then I do not understand their
+terms. What is a 'fore-hand drive'? It sounds like the coaching
+Marathon. And how do you put on top spin? Do you wind your racquet round
+and round the ball and then pull it away suddenly, or what? And
+cross-volleys&mdash;what in the world are they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Goodness knows," I said. "My own volleys are the best-tempered little
+chaps alive. But, hang it! no one can force you to play lawn-tennis if
+you don't want to."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't they?" said Charles. "That's just the point. They do. They say to
+me, 'You play golf and cricket; of course you can play tennis. Easiest
+thing in the world.' Swish! swish! they go, making a ferocious
+cross-hand top-lead from baulk with their umbrellas. 'That's how to do
+it. You'll soon get into the way of the stroke.' 'That's just what I'm
+afraid of,' I say, leaping nervously on to the table. But it's no good.
+'Come round next Saturday afternoon,' they say, 'we shall be expecting
+you,' and pass rapidly into the night before I can refuse."</p>
+
+<p>"One can always have a sick headache," I reminded him.</p>
+
+<p>"I did that once," said Charles. "I had been asked to play in a
+tournament, and at dinner the next evening I sat next to the girl who
+ought to have been my partner in the mixed handicaps, and we had
+meringues. No, it isn't safe, and besides one might always want to play
+golf. I think the best thing is to go once and trust to one's own skill
+not to be asked again. Anyhow, I don't believe the Jenkinsons will give
+me another invitation for some time."</p>
+
+<p>"What happened?" I asked. "I suppose when they've sewn up the net and
+bought new balls&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, it wasn't that," he answered, with a dreamy smile. "You know the
+Jenkinsons. You know how keen they are on tennis and how proud of their
+court. I did everything I could to save them, but they would have me. I
+said I had no racquet except the one I had used for landing trout in the
+spring, and they told me I could get it restrung. I said I had no shoes,
+and they told me any shoes would do. I couldn't tell them I had no
+flannels, because they wouldn't have believed me. So I went. I wore an
+old blue cricket cap on the back of my head: I wore long white trousers
+not turned up, and I wore brown shoes."</p>
+
+<p>"And your racquet?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I borrowed a real tennis-racquet," replied Charles; "one of those
+narrow, rather wistful-looking things, with a kink in its head. I
+thought it would complete the languid artistic effect and help to
+convince them. It had rained a good deal in the morning, and I rather
+hoped we might spend the time looking at the conservatory and have
+muffins for tea. But no. When I reached the house I found that they had
+decided to play. They laughed at me a good deal, of course&mdash;at my cap,
+and my racquet, and my trousers, and my brown shoes. When we had taken
+up our stations in the arena they told me I was to serve first. I sent
+the ball high up into the air underhand and ran swiftly to the net." He
+paused melodramatically.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," I said. "Was it the solar plexus or the eye?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he answered sadly, "I was unwounded; but that was the last stroke
+I played. When I served that service they laughed at me again, but when
+I ran to the net they ceased to laugh. They said they could easily find
+someone else to complete the four. They pressed me to sit and watch for
+the remainder of the afternoon. Indeed, they were quite firm about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand," I said. "Was it your face that frightened them in
+the blue cap?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not so much my face," he answered gently, "as my feet."</p>
+
+<p>"What was the matter with them?"</p>
+
+<p>"There are big nails," he said softly, "in my brown golf shoes."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/189.png">
+<img src="images/189.png" width="100%" alt="Come on behind here and travel with us" /></a>
+<p><i>Trooper.</i> "<span class="sc">Come on behind here and travel with us,
+Jim</span>!"</p>
+<p><i>Jim</i> (<i>from horse-box</i>). "<span class="sc">Not much. None of your third-class for me</span>."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>FROM ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW.</h2>
+
+<p>It is a strange thing that, much as women have entered the writing lists
+with men, there is one branch of literature which they rarely attempt.
+Take away Mrs. <span class="sc">Browning</span> and <span class="sc">Christina Rossetti</span> and you will scarcely
+find a love poem by a woman, or, at any rate, a love poem which takes
+the woman's point of view. Probably many of the most cherished
+sentimental songs which wake the echoes of the drawing-room and
+conservatory are the work of women; but they write as men. It is always
+the masculine aspect which is set before the public; the beloved is
+always feminine. And yet marriage statistics show that precisely as many
+men have married as women. But during the preliminary period of exalted
+emotion any love poetry that was written was written by the men.</p>
+
+<p>Surely, as the advancement of woman proceeds, and she adds territory
+upon territory to her kingdom, she will redress the balance and write
+love poetry too.</p>
+
+<p>A very few changes in certain of the classic lyrics indicate how near
+the two varieties of love poems can be: male and female. Thus, why
+should not "he" as well as "she" have dwelt among untrodden ways? Why
+should not "he" have walked in beauty like the night? <span class="sc">Poe</span> wrote
+magically about <span class="sc">Annabel Lee</span>; why should not one of his female relatives,
+for example, have written in a similar strain? Something like this:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">It was many and many a year ago,</p>
+<p class="i2">In a kingdom by the sea,</p>
+<p class="i0">That a gentleman lived whom you may know</p>
+<p class="i2">By the name of Hannibal Lee;</p>
+<p class="i0">And this gentleman lived with no other thought</p>
+<p class="i2">Than to love and be loved by me.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Women must see to it that men do not have it all their own way for ever.
+<span class="sc">Landor</span> was moved to a perfect lyric by love of <span class="sc">Rose Aylmer</span>. Is the
+following any less perfect?</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Ah! what avails the sceptred race?</p>
+<p class="i2">Ah! what the form divine?</p>
+<p class="i0">What every virtue, every grace?</p>
+<p class="i2">George Aylmer, all were thine.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">George Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes</p>
+<p class="i2">May weep, but never see,</p>
+<p class="i0">A night of memories and sighs</p>
+<p class="i2">I consecrate to thee.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>George is of course not the only name, nor is Aylmer. The adaptrix,
+however, must be careful that the Christian name is a monosyllable and
+the other a dissyllable.</p>
+
+<p>Again, in the following feminine version of a Shakspearean song the name
+is subject to alteration:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Who is Bertie? What is he</p>
+<p class="i2">That all the girls commend him?</p>
+<p class="i0">Handsome, brave and wise is he;</p>
+<p class="i2">The heavens such grace did lend him</p>
+<p class="i0">That he might admired be.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Examples might be adduced from many poets, but two more will suffice. A
+female <span class="sc">Tennyson</span> might have begun a song in the following terms:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">It is the youthful miller,</p>
+<p class="i2">And he is grown so dear, so dear,</p>
+<p class="i0">That I would be the pencil</p>
+<p class="i2">That trembles on his ear:</p>
+<p class="i0">For 'midst his curls by day and night</p>
+<p class="i0">I'd touch his neck so warm and white.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Finally, let us look at the very prince <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>of love poets&mdash;<span class="sc">Robbie Burns</span>.
+Two of his most famous songs might as well have been written of swains
+as maidens. Here is one in which in the most natural way in the world
+lassie becomes laddie, and Mary, Harry:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Go, fetch to me a cup o' tea,</p>
+<p class="i2">And take it from a silver caddie,</p>
+<p class="i0">That I may drink a health to thee,</p>
+<p class="i2">A service to my bonnie laddie!</p>
+<p class="i0">The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,</p>
+<p class="i2">Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry,</p>
+<p class="i0">The ship rides by the Berwick-Law,</p>
+<p class="i2">And I maun leave my bonnie Harry.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Is that injured by the change? Not a bit. And here is another in which
+we have successfully introduced a variation of the original name:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Of a' the airts the wind can blaw</p>
+<p class="i2">I dearly like the west,</p>
+<p class="i0">For there the bonnie laddie lives,</p>
+<p class="i2">The laddie I lo'e best.</p>
+<p class="i0">There wild woods grow, and rivers row</p>
+<p class="i2">By mony a fleecy flock,</p>
+<p class="i0">But day and night my fancy's flight</p>
+<p class="i2">Is ever wi' my Jock.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>After reading these famous stanzas in their amended form our women poets
+may perhaps take heart and emulate them: to the immense delight of their
+<i>fianc&eacute;s</i>, who like to be wooed as well as to woo, and have never shied
+very much at adulation.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>MR. PUNCH'S HOLIDAY STORIES.</h2>
+
+<center><span class="sc">III.&mdash;The Fight of the Century.</span></center>
+
+<p>For weeks past the press had discussed little but the coming boxing
+contest between Smasher Mike and the famous heavy-weight champion,
+Mauler Mills, for a purse of &pound;20,000 and enormous side stakes.
+Photographs of the Mauler in every conceivable attitude had been
+published daily, together with portraits of his wife, his two children,
+his four maiden aunts and the pink-eyed opossum which he regarded as his
+mascot. Full descriptions of his training day by day, with details of
+his diet, his reading, his amusements and his opinions on war, divorce,
+the clergy and kindred subjects, testified to the extraordinary
+interest taken by the public in the titanic struggle.</p>
+
+<p>But with regard to Smasher Mike the newspapers were at a loss. <i>The
+Daily Flash</i> indeed declared him to be the son of a popular Cabinet
+Minister, and triumphantly published photographs of Downing Street, the
+Woolsack, the Ladies' Gallery and Black Rod. <i>The Daily Rocket</i>, on the
+other hand, described him as a herculean docker, discovered and trained
+by a syndicate of wealthy Americans, and issued photographs of Tilbury
+Station, Plymouth Hoe and the Statue of Liberty in New York harbour. The
+fact remained that the identity of the daring challenger was a well-kept
+secret.</p>
+
+<p>Mauler Mills was too experienced a pugilist to be perturbed by the
+mystery surrounding his adversary. The stakes had been handed in, and
+the purse of &pound;20,000, in one pound-notes, had formed a full-page
+illustration in <i>The Trumpet</i>, with a photo of the Mauler eating
+gooseberries inset. Content with this knowledge, he trained faithfully
+and well, treated the interviewers with great courtesy, and publicly
+announced that Smasher Mike would be knocked out early in the third
+round by means of a left hook to the jaw.</p>
+
+<p>The betting on Mauler Mills was a hundred to one.</p>
+
+<p>Young Lord Tamerton was in desperate straits. The estate to which he had
+succeeded at the age of ten had been administered during his minority by
+a fraudulent executor, who had absconded to South America with his
+ill-gotten wealth. Matters had since gone steadily from bad to worse,
+and the young peer was now face to face with utter ruin.</p>
+
+<p>An effort had been made to retrieve the family fortunes by the marriage
+of his sister, the beautiful Lady Margaret Tamerton, to her cousin, the
+wealthy Sir Ernest Scrivener, but the providential discovery that the
+latter was already married under the <i>alias</i> of Marmaduke Moorsdyke had
+prevented the match. Since then Sir Ernest had been their implacable and
+relentless enemy, and his desperate attempt to kidnap Lady Margaret had
+only been frustrated by the skill and courage of the famous athlete,
+Ralph Wonderson.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Tamerton was seated at a grand piano, playing <span class="sc">Bach</span> and moodily
+reflecting on these matters, when Ralph Wonderson himself entered the
+room, vaulting lightly over piano and performer as he did so.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter, Fred?" he asked. "You look blue."</p>
+
+<p>Lord Tamerton dramatically threw &pound;8 4<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> on the table.</p>
+
+<p>"This morning I pawned the Island Cup, which you won for us," he said
+bitterly. "That is the result, and that is what stands between me and
+starvation." His voice broke, "And&mdash;and between Madge and starvation,"
+he added.</p>
+
+<p>Ralph laughed gaily. "I'm not rich," he said, "and if I were I don't
+suppose you'd accept money from me. But I came here purposely to put you
+in the way of making it. Wager as heavily as you can on Smasher Mike.
+The odds are a hundred to one against him. I can introduce you to a man
+who will consider your name sufficient security for a loan of &pound;5,000.
+That will bring you in &pound;500,000, which should secure you at any rate
+from absolute privation. As for little Madge&mdash;well, I have a bare &pound;8,000
+a year, but if&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>A light step was heard behind him, and a small hand stole into his own.</p>
+
+<p>"I would marry you," said Lady Margaret, "I would marry you if it were
+only &pound;7,000."</p>
+
+<p>As the lovers gazed fondly into each other's eyes, a sinister figure
+emerged from the grand piano and slipped out noiselessly through the
+open door.</p>
+
+<center>(<i>To be concluded in our next.</i>)</center>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/190.png">
+<img src="images/190.png" width="100%" alt="Burglar (to his mate)" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><i>Burglar (to his mate).</i> <span class="sc">"See wot people gits fur bein'
+unpatriotic! It's a pure treat to give these 'ere gold 'oarders a
+lesson."</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>Sad Case of Cannibalism by Robert.</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Milton scarcely heard her. He was too intent upon wondering how
+Robert came to be dining t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te with the one-time Adeline
+Goodrin, and&mdash;if the truth be told&mdash;upon that amazing woman,
+herself."</p></div>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>"Daily Mail" feuilleton.</i></span><br />
+</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>From <i>Chemistry of Plant Products</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"D'Arbamont concludes that starch, and presumably also sugar, may or
+may not be essential for the formation of chlorophyll."</p></div>
+
+<p>We came to the same conclusion long ago.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Excited Veteran.">
+<tr><td><img src="images/191a.png" width="90%" alt="The Allies will probably reach here" /></td><td><img src="images/191b.png" width= "90%" alt="And then sweep round with a sudden flanking movement" /></td></tr>
+<tr><td><i>Excited Veteran.</i> "<span class="sc">The Allies will probably reach here</span>"</td><td>"<span class="sc">And then sweep round with a sudden flanking movement</span>."</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</center>
+
+<p>The heroine of <i>Alberta and the Others</i> (<span class="sc">Sidgwick and Jackson</span>) was the
+eldest of an orphaned family of girls and boys who were finding life a
+little boring in an English village; and when an unexpected legacy made
+her mistress of a couple of town lots in a place called Sunshine, in
+Western Canada, nothing would content her but to emigrate with the whole
+tribe&mdash;reinforced by a delightful <i>Aunt Mary</i> and an animal known as the
+Meritorious Cat&mdash;to the Land of Promise. The book is the history of how
+they got on there. Naturally, from the circumstances of their start and
+the giddy altitude of <i>Alberta's</i> hopes, you will be prepared for its
+being, to some extent at least, a story of disillusion. Miss <span class="sc">Madge S.
+Smith</span>, who wrote it, says that it is all true; and indeed there is much
+in the tale that stamps it as the outcome of personal experience. This
+being so, I could wish that her attitude in the matter had been a little
+less uncompromisingly English. In many ways the language and general
+outlook of the daughter of an Oxford don will no doubt differ
+considerably from that of a Canadian-born inhabitant of a prairie
+township; but that is no good reason for assuming an air of patronage.
+However, this defect, though it exists, is not so pronounced as to spoil
+one's enjoyment of an entertaining record, written, as the publishers
+say, "in high spirits throughout," and having, I fancy, just this much
+fiction mingled with its obvious fact, that it ends with a general
+pairing off and the prospect of three weddings&mdash;which seems, as <i>Lady
+Bracknell</i> observed in a similar connection, "a number considerably
+above the average that statistics have laid down for our guidance." But
+at least it is the <i>amende honorable</i> to the Land of Promise.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>From the cover of <i>A Tail of Gold</i> (<span class="sc">Hodder and Stoughton</span>) I gather with
+respectful interest that its author, Mr. <span class="sc">David Hennessey</span>, recently won
+four hundred pounds with another story in open competition. I did not
+read the story in question, but in view of its satisfactory financial
+result I may be permitted to express a hope that it was considerably
+better work than the present volume. Let me be entirely fair. <i>A Tail of
+Gold</i> has some pictures of Australian mining life that are not without
+interest; but I am bound to add that a careful and sympathetic perusal
+has failed to disclose any other reason for its existence. The plot, so
+far as there is one, concerns the chequered career of a certain <i>Major
+Smart</i>, who seems to have been by no means all that a major should be.
+Amongst other unpleasing peculiarities, he was apparently possessed of a
+fetish that brought misfortune or death to all who were associated with
+him. These results were in the main involuntary; but it is only just to
+add that <i>Smart</i> was not above assisting nature to take her course.
+Thus, some years before the opening of the story, he had deliberately
+buried one poor lady alive in a cave containing sulphide of mercury.
+Never ask me why. I am as muddled by this as I am over his further
+conduct in leaving with the corpse every possible clue in the way of
+letters and ciphers that could bring his guilt home to him. In any
+ordinary novel he would have been convicted in a few chapters; but <i>A
+Tail of Gold</i> wags (if I may use the term) so leisurely, and its action
+is so much impeded by false starts and repetitions and general
+haphazardness, that there is no telling how long it might not have
+continued but for the limitations of volume form. No, I can't pretend I
+liked it much.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Madame <span class="sc">Albanesi</span>, in <i>The Cap of Youth</i> (<span class="sc">Hutchinson</span>), cannot be accused
+of excessive kindness to her own sex, for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>the charming women of the
+book are almost snuffed out by two poisonous females, <i>Lady Bollington</i>
+and <i>Lady Catherine Chiltern</i>. Indeed these ladies are a little too much
+of a bad thing, and, not for the first time, I am left thinking how
+wonderfully Madame <span class="sc">Albanesi's</span> novels might be improved if she could
+persuade herself to bestow an occasional virtue upon her wicked
+characters. The heroine, <i>Virginia</i>, escaped from the hands of one of
+the pair only to fall under the thumb of the other. I must admit,
+however, that <i>Lady Catherine</i> had some reason to be angry at having
+<i>Virginia</i> suddenly dumped upon her as a derelict daughter-in-law. Why
+<i>Brian Chiltern</i> married in haste and then left his wife to endure such
+impossible conditions you must find out for yourself, but I fancy you
+will agree that his delicacy of feeling amounted to sheer stupidity.
+Nevertheless this story is bound to be popular, and I should have had no
+complaint to make if I did not feel that its author has it in her to do
+better work.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p>Even readers to whom American humour is generally a little indigestible
+may glean some smiles from <i>Penrod</i> (<span class="sc">Hodder and Stoughton</span>), provided
+that it is taken in small doses and not in the lump. If this book were
+to be considered a study of the normal American boy I should cry with
+vigour, "Save me from the breed," but as a fanciful account of a
+thorough and egregious imp of mischief I can, within limits, offer my
+congratulations to Mr. <span class="sc">Booth Tarkington</span>. The triumph of <i>Penrod</i> lies in
+the fact that, although he brought woe and tribulation to his relations
+and exasperated his friends to the point of insanity, it is nevertheless
+impossible to suppress an affection for him. Ofttimes and hard his
+father chastised him with rods, but <i>Penrod</i> merely accepted these
+beatings as the price that had to be paid for leading an adventurous
+life, and showed not the smallest signs of repentance. Yes, I like
+<i>Penrod</i>, though I have not any great desire to meet him in the flesh.
+It grieves me, however, that such a character as <i>Mr. Kinosling</i> should
+have been dragged in by the heels. If fatuous clerics are worth any
+novelist's attention they certainly are not worth Mr. <span class="sc">Tarkington's</span>, and
+the only effect <i>Mr. Kinosling</i> had upon me was to fortify my conviction
+that it is far easier to begin a book of humour than to finish it.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/192.png">
+<img src="images/192.png" width="100%" alt="THE NORTH SEA PERIL." /></a>
+<h3>THE NORTH SEA PERIL.</h3>
+<center>"<span class="sc">By Jove, I pity the Germans if <i>she</i> gets hold of 'em!</span>"</center>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><i>EN PASSANT.</i></h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Loud swells the roar of traffic in the street,</p>
+<p class="i2">The motor-buses rumble on and wind</p>
+<p class="i2">Their plaintive warnings as they come behind</p>
+<p class="i0">Faint folk who dally, dazed by summer heat;</p>
+<p class="i0">The reckless taxis seem a deal too fleet</p>
+<p class="i2">To country cousins nervously inclined,</p>
+<p class="i2">And raucous news-boys fret the curious mind</p>
+<p class="i0">With spicy rumours of the foe's defeat.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">But suddenly a hush falls everywhere:</p>
+<p class="i2">Stopp'd is each taxi with its languid load,</p>
+<p class="i2">And, as the City's silence deeper grows,</p>
+<p class="i0">Only a barrel-organ churns the air</p>
+<p class="i2">While Peggy (in the middle of the road)</p>
+<p class="i0">Pauses to put some powder on her nose!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h3>Mr. Chaplin as an Apache.</h3>
+
+<center>"RETIREMENT OF MR. HENRY CHAPLIN.</center><br />
+<center><span class="sc">Safety of the Streets</span>."</center>
+<p class="author"><i>The Times.</i></p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+147, August 26th, 1914, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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+</body>
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@@ -0,0 +1,1922 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 147,
+August 26th, 1914, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, August 26th, 1914
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Owen Seaman
+
+Release Date: September 23, 2008 [EBook #26693]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  PUNCH,
+
+  OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+  VOL. 147.
+
+  AUGUST 26, 1914.
+
+CHARIVARIA.
+
+An eclipse of the sun took place on Friday last. It is supposed to have
+been an attempt on the part of the sun to prevent the Germans finding a
+place in it.
+
+       ***
+
+South Africa has now declared with no uncertain voice that she intends
+to fight under the British Flag, and the KAISER'S vexation on realising
+that the money spent on a certain famous telegram was sheer waste is
+said to have been pitiable.
+
+       ***
+
+We hear, by the way, that HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY is also extremely annoyed
+that so many English people should be resuming their summer holidays at
+the seaside. This is considered a slight on the power and ubiquity of
+the German Navy.
+
+       ***
+
+Some idea of how well the secret of their ultimate destination was kept
+even from the soldiers of our expeditionary force may be gathered from
+the fact that their favourite song on arriving in France was "It's a
+long way to Tip-per-ar-y."
+
+       ***
+
+The German newspapers no doubt perceive in this a reference to our Civil
+War in Ireland.
+
+       ***
+
+We are glad that the lie about the cutting-up of the Black Watch has
+been scotched. May they yet live to be "The Black Watch on the Rhine."
+
+       ***
+
+A gentleman writes to _The Observer_ to mention that an American
+surgeon, on bidding him farewell the other day, remarked, "Blood is
+thicker than water." This statement, coming from a medical man, who
+ought to know, is extremely valuable.
+
+       ***
+
+    "THE GOEBEN'S INGLORIOUS SCUTTLE."
+
+         _Daily Mail._
+
+Yes, and now full of Turkey's coal.
+
+       ***
+
+The London Museum is open again. The Curator, we understand, would be
+glad to add to his collection of curiosities any Londoner who is still
+in favour of a small Navy.
+
+       ***
+
+The Devon and Somerset stag-hounds have stopped hunting, and there is
+said to be a movement on foot among the local stags in favour of passing
+a vote of thanks to a certain mad dog.
+
+       ***
+
+Which reminds us that that rare spectacle, a smile on the face of an
+oyster, may now be seen. It has been decided that the Whitstable oyster
+feast shall not be held this year.
+
+       ***
+
+The Duc D'ORLEANS has sent back to the AUSTRIAN EMPEROR the collar of
+the Golden Fleece which His Majesty conferred on him in 1896. One can
+understand a Frenchman objecting to being collared by an Austrian.
+
+       ***
+
+It is, as is well known, an ill wind that blows no one any good. As a
+result of the War the proceedings of the British Association are not
+being reported at their usual length in our newspapers.
+
+       ***
+
+Another little advantage arising out of the War seems to have escaped
+notice. Owing to the fact that such Germans as are left among us eat
+much more quietly than formerly in order not to attract attention to
+themselves, it is now possible to hear an orchestra at a restaurant.
+
+       ***
+
+The horse-race habit is, we suppose, difficult to shed. A newsvendor was
+heard shouting the other day, "European War. Result!"
+
+       ***
+
+"An artist who called at a famous firm of etching printers," a
+contemporary tells us, "found the men were away printing bank-notes." We
+trust that they were authorised to do so.
+
+       ***
+
+"Cambridge public-houses," we read, "are to close at 9 P.M." Such dons
+as are still up for the Long Vacation are said to be taking it gamely in
+spite of the inconvenience of accustoming themselves to the new
+regulation.
+
+       ***
+
+Every day one has fresh examples of how the War is putting an end to our
+internecine rivalries. For instance, _The Daily Mail_ is now issuing the
+"Standard" History of the War.
+
+       ***
+
+Some of our contemporaries are referring to the Germans as "Modern
+Huns." We would point out that, as a matter of fact, they are not real
+Huns. They are wrong Huns.
+
+       ***
+
+"Thousands of young men without ties," complains a writer in _The
+Express_, "remain indifferent to the call of their country." We are
+afraid that this is true not only of those without ties, but also of
+some who wear expensive cravats.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: FAIR LOOT.
+
+_John Bull, A.B._ "WELL, I DIDN'T START OUT FOR THIS; BUT THERE CAN'T BE
+ANY HARM IN PICKING UP A GOOD THING."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The idea is to make it possible for every individual to register
+    for himself a number at the General Post Office.... All you do is to
+    address him, say: '105051, care General Post Office,' and the
+    officials look up 05051's latest address and forward the letter."
+
+We fear that this is just what they would do.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The members of Caldicot Wesleyan Church Sunday School had their
+    annual summer tea on Tuesday in a field kindly lent by Mr. W. Howard
+    of Church Farm."
+
+This comes under the heading "War Items" in _The Newport Evening Post_.
+On applying to the Official Press Bureau, however, we were unable to
+obtain from Mr. F. E. SMITH any confirmation of the rumour.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "The Chairman put the vote, and there being no answering cries of
+    '!' declared the vote carried _nemine contradicente_."
+
+         _Birmingham Daily Post._
+
+After which the proceedings closed amid approving shouts of
+"[Illustration of pointing finger]."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "A large firm of contractors to hotels points out that a prominent
+    form of waste is eating too much."--_Times._
+
+Conversely, eating too much brings on a prominent form of waist.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Motto for debtors: _Moratorium, te salutamus._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE CALL OF ENGLAND.
+
+    [Every lover of England is bound to give what he can spare--and
+    something more--for the help of those who may suffer distress
+    through the War. Gifts to the National Relief Fund should be
+    addressed to H.R.H. The Prince of Wales, at Buckingham Palace.]
+
+      Come, all ye who love her well,
+       Ye whose hopes are one with hers,
+      One with hers the hearts that swell
+       When the pulse of memory stirs;
+      She from whom your life ye take
+       Claims you; how can you forget?
+      Come, your honour stands at stake!
+        _Pay your debt!_
+
+      By her sons that hold the deep,
+       Nerves at strain and sinews tense,
+      Sleepless-eyed that ye may sleep
+       Girdled in a fast defence;--
+      By her sons that face the fire
+       Where the battle-lines are set--
+      Give your country her desire!
+        _Pay your debt!_
+
+      He that, leaving child and wife
+       In our keeping, unafraid,
+      Goes to dare the deadly strife,
+       Shall he see his trust betrayed?
+      Shall he come again and find
+       Hollow cheeks and eyelids wet?
+      Guard them as your kith and kind!
+        _Pay your debt!_
+
+      Sirs, we should be shamed indeed
+       If the bitter cry for bread,
+      Children's cries in cruel need,
+       Rose and fell uncomforted!
+      Ah, but since the patriot glow
+       Burns in English bosoms yet,
+      Twice and thrice ye will, I know,
+        Pay your debt!
+
+    O. S.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A DETERMINED ISLAND.
+
+III.
+                                            _August 19th._
+
+During this season of splendid weather you may be sure that we in
+Totland Bay have not been idle. We swim, men, women and children, and we
+perform great feats of diving from the moored rafts which the
+authorities have kindly provided for that purpose. And we toil off on
+the usual picnic parties and inhale great draughts of health as we lie
+on our backs on the heather-clad slopes of the hill. But even while we
+pursue these simple pleasures our thoughts are with the great warships
+in their ceaseless vigil in the North Sea or with the gallant fellows
+who slipped away under cover of the night and are now taking their place
+in the fighting line with our French and Belgian friends. England, too,
+it seems, can perform a great operation of war on sea and land, and can
+do it with a swiftness, a precision and a silence that no other nation
+could surpass. So we hold our heads high and are proud to reckon
+ourselves the fellow-countrymen of JELLICOE and KITCHENER. We have begun
+well. May we have strength and resolution to endure without faltering to
+the end.
+
+I am glad to say that the sewing brigade, which I mentioned in my last,
+shows an ever-increasing activity. All good female Islanders are busy
+about the manufacture of pyjamas for the soldiery. One of the marks of
+patriotism amongst our ladies is the possession of a pair of pyjama
+legs. No picnic party is complete without them. When the men light their
+cigarettes the women bring out their pyjamas and add stitch upon stitch.
+Pyjama legs are awkward things in a breeze, being apt to flap about, but
+they are resolutely tucked round arms or otherwise restrained, and the
+needle continues its deft work in spite of all difficulties. Pyjama
+jackets, too, are of course made in the proper number, but they are not
+so dramatic in their movements as the legs, and I have not noticed them
+so much.
+
+I revert once more to KITCHENER'S triumphant feat in transporting our
+army to France. We are not very far from Southampton, whence some of the
+troops must have sailed, but beyond the merest vague rumours we heard
+nothing. One lady, a fortnight ago, had word from some one that a
+Belgian _padre_ had seen trucks full of British soldiers in Belgium. A
+gentleman had heard from a school friend of his daughter that
+motor-'buses of the General Omnibus Company had been seen in Brussels in
+all their bravery of scarlet, apparently bound (if their painted
+announcements might be trusted) for Cricklewood _via_ Brussels with a
+full complement of soldiery and stores. Another lady knew, she said,
+that her nephew, an officer, had already sailed for an unknown
+destination. These were the reports, and they left us all guessing.
+
+I am still in trouble about my tame alien, the children's maid, Maria
+Hasewitz. Her permit, obtained at Newport with some labour, authorises
+her to reside at Totland, but not to move more than five miles from the
+limits of that place. Having decided to leave Totland with family and
+household on Monday I have suddenly been brought up against the stone
+wall of Maria's alienship. It was obviously necessary to secure
+permission for this forlorn German girl to travel home with us. The idea
+of dropping Maria into the sea five miles from here could not be
+entertained, in spite of the fact that she is technically an enemy. So I
+applied, stating the facts, to the Chief Constable, who, with a
+promptitude and a courtesy which I desire to acknowledge, sent a
+sergeant to interview me. Struggling against that sense of general and
+undefined guilt which the propinquity of a police officer always
+inspires and striving to assume an air of frank and confident honesty, I
+approached the sergeant and learnt from him that, this being a
+prohibited area, the Chief Constable could not give the required
+permission to travel without the express authority of the HOME
+SECRETARY, to whom he begged to refer me. I urged that it would be a
+profound relief to the Chief Constable to get rid even of an alien so
+harmless as Maria; but this plea the sergeant at once put aside. I have
+therefore written to the HOME SECRETARY. If he refuses I wonder what
+will happen to Maria.
+
+P.S.--The Home Office has replied authorising Maria to embark at Ryde
+and land at Portsmouth. This is like telling a Londoner to embark at
+Hull and land at Bristol on his way to Windsor. I have telegraphed.
+
+_Later._--The Home Office permits Maria to embark at Totland and land at
+Lymington. All is at last well.
+
+R. C. L.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Extract from "Notes from an Alsatian Valley" in _Chambers' Journal_:--
+
+    "As a last word about this charming country, may I point out its
+    advantages as a holiday playground? It offers attractions of many
+    kinds to the sportsman.... The climate ... remains singularly warm
+    right up to the end of October."
+
+Rather _too_ hot a playground for holiday-makers just now.
+
+Illustration: THE COMING OF THE COSSACKS. WILHELM II. "WHAT IS THIS
+DISTANT RUMBLING THAT I HEAR? DOUBTLESS THE PLAUDITS OF MY PEOPLE!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Zealous Policeman (on German Spy duty, having got
+motorist's name and address, etc., and received, in answer to his
+further question, "And is this lady your wife?" a torrent of oaths very
+much in the vernacular)._ "OH! PASS ALONG; YOU'RE A BRITISHER ALL
+RIGHT."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE NEW NEWS.
+
+While cordially endorsing all the deserved tributes that have lately
+been paid to the tact and loyalty of our daily Press, we venture to
+express a hope that the practice of printing every kind of contradictory
+war report will not become of universal application to other forms of
+intelligence.
+
+Imagine, for example, being confronted with this kind of thing in the
+Cricket specials:--
+
+KENT _v._ LANCASHIRE.
+
+THE GREAT MATCH BEGUN.
+
+A telegram from Canterbury, dated 11 A.M., Aug 18th, states that the
+great match has actually begun. No details are given.
+
+AMAZING LANCASTRIAN VICTORY.
+
+Rumour's Agency learns that the resistance of Kent has everywhere been
+entirely overcome; no fewer than forty-three of the home side have been
+dismissed for sixteen runs. Twenty-nine wickets fell before lunch.
+
+_Maidstone, Aug. 19. [Delayed in transmission]_.--The team has arrived
+in Canterbury. Captain TROUGHTON, in a stirring address, pointed out
+that hostilities had been forced upon the county, which however would
+not be found unprepared. The greatest enthusiasm prevails among the
+team, who are in capital health. WOOLLEY especially was never in better
+form.
+
+STARTLING REPORT.
+
+A private telegram received in Liverpool states that SHARP took
+seventeen wickets for no runs in eleven minutes. Up to the time of going
+to press this had not been officially confirmed.
+
+_Dover._--No credence is attached here to the reported success of
+Lancashire. It is pointed out that in any case the figures given must be
+greatly overestimated, not more than eleven men being employed on either
+side. Most probably the casualties include both umpires and spectators,
+and these losses would have no real effect on the game.
+
+_Manchester._--It is confirmed here that WOOLLEY has resigned.
+
+_Canterbury, noon, Aug. 18. (From our Special Correspondent.)_--At
+last I am able to send you definite information. Amidst a scene of
+breathless enthusiasm the two Captains prepared to toss. A roar of
+cheering soon afterwards proclaimed that the coin had declared in favour
+of----
+
+[Message breaks off here and has evidently been censored.]
+
+Folkestone unofficial wires state that at lunch the scores stood--Kent
+all out 463: Lancashire 14 for 2 wickets (both taken by WOOLLEY).
+
+STOP PRESS.
+
+The Press Bureau have just issued a statement that no play has yet been
+possible in the Kent v. Lancashire match on account of rain.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Pingoism in Japan may be matched by Jingoism here."--_Pittsburgh
+    Press._
+
+Pingoism should be carefully distinguished from pongoism.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SILENCE OF THE BRITISH VIRGIL.
+
+    The awful silence of the British virgil in the North Sea is unbroken
+    still."
+
+_Newcastle Daily Journal._
+
+We are glad to see our old friend VIRGIL spoken of as British. It is, no
+doubt, the writer's forcible way of indicating Italy's sympathy.
+
+OUR WAR MAP.
+
+I have bought a war map. My newspaper told me to, and I did. It came
+yesterday with a host of little coloured flags on pins.
+
+Helen and I surveyed it critically.
+
+"Why, it's only an ordinary map of Europe," she said disgustedly.
+
+"It won't be," I said, "when we've stuck the flags in."
+
+I removed a picture and pinned the map to the wall.
+
+"First of all there's Belgrade," I said.
+
+"Where?" asked Helen eagerly.
+
+"Er, er--somewhere round here, I know.... I do believe they've forgotten
+to put it in...."
+
+Gladys (who is only ten) found it for us eventually, and we arranged a
+very fine battle there with a river in between.
+
+The Meuse was easier. We infested its banks with our hosts and fixed a
+splendid array of troops all along the Franco-German frontier. Next we
+invaded Germany and Austria from the other side with several Russian
+armies and put some local troops to meet them. Without boasting, I think
+I may say the result was very pretty. But to our dismay we found we had
+a number of armies left. Helen said they must fight somewhere.
+
+"You can't keep all those troops idle," she said. "Look at the waste of
+good material."
+
+"That's true," I admitted. "Perhaps my newspaper can help."
+
+It did indeed contain enough rumours of battles to dispose of all our
+flags and a few dozen besides, but at the same time it urged me to
+accept unofficial statements with the greatest reserve. Mr. F. E. SMITH,
+it declared (it was a Liberal print; such are the vicissitudes of war)
+was the only reliable authority. Helen and I decided we could accept
+information from him alone. But Mr. SMITH gave us no help. I was worried
+for the moment, I admit; here were all these armies left in the envelope
+with nowhere to go to.
+
+Then I had an inspiration such as comes to a man but seldom in a
+lifetime. The Fates should decide.
+
+I pushed the furniture out of the way, led Helen to the other side of
+the room, blindfolded her, and thrust a British army into her hand.
+
+"The idea is to walk across the room without looking and stick it
+somewhere on the map," I explained. "Scandinavia and the Peninsula are
+out of bounds until we hear further from the KAISER. If you hit them you
+have another prod."
+
+Helen planted her army near Moscow. I took a Servian flag and planted it
+in the North Sea.
+
+The game was very exciting while it lasted. I consider that I won it by
+placing a French force in the environs of Vienna, an extraordinarily
+good move. My newspaper would have been glad of the suggestion, I am
+sure.
+
+Gladys was handicapped by her height, but, taking everything into
+consideration, I think she arranged some quite nice struggles in Sicily
+and the Principality of Monaco.
+
+Wilkinson came in after dinner. He collects the latest rumours and edits
+them really well. Usually Helen and I find it wise to accept all his
+statements without a murmur, but yesterday I disagreed with him.
+
+"I'm sorry," I said gently, "but I don't think you've got things quite
+right. This is more like the position of things at present," and I waved
+my arm in the direction of our war map.
+
+When at last he regained speech he made some remarks which might have
+given offence to people less sure of themselves than I.
+
+"No," I said, "I do know the flags of the nations, and so does my wife.
+But I must beg you to keep that map a secret. You see, I have a friend
+in the inner circle who has given me some information of which the
+outside world knows nothing. I can rely on your discretion, I am sure."
+
+"Of course, my dear fellow." He seemed dazed and strangely silent. He
+had one long last look at the map and departed muttering to himself: "A
+Belgian fleet off the Outer Hebrides! French troops in Nijni Novgorod!!
+A Montenegrin squadron menacing Mitylene!!!"
+
+It is strange how strong the force of habit is. I went to the City as
+usual to-day. At lunch I met Collins, who told me he had it on very good
+authority that there was an Austrian fleet bombarding the forts along
+the Mersey and that a combined force of French and Russians had crossed
+the Dutch frontier from Arnheim and was advancing on Berlin.
+
+I hurried home to record these new developments on my map, and was
+compelled, through shortage of flags, to displace the Servian fleet from
+the North Sea and Gladys's Belgian contingent from Monte Carlo.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _German Bird._ "I SEE IT DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT
+EAGLES."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _The Hohenzollern (megaphonically)._ "TAKE COURAGE, MY
+BRAVE GERMANS. YOUR KAISER IS PREPARED TO SACRIFICE A MILLION OF YOU."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ANOTHER IMPENDING APOLOGY.
+
+"500,000 copies of 'With the Flag to Pretoria' were sold a few days
+after publication and thousands were disappointed."--_Advt._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: A FAUX PAS.
+
+_London Hawker (addressing obvious Teuton)._ "WEAR YER FLAG, SIR."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+IN THE CITY.
+
+    Because beneath grey Northern skies
+      Some grey hulls heave and fall,
+    The merchants sell their merchandise
+      All just as usual;
+    Our cargoes sail for man's content
+      The same as yesterday,
+    And war-risk's down to 2 per cent.,
+      The underwriters say.
+
+    The clerks they sit with page and pen
+      And fill the desks a-row,
+    Because outside of Cuxhaven
+      There's them to make it so;
+    We go to lunch, as natural,
+      From one o'clock till two,
+    Because outside of Kiel Canal
+      There's those that let us do.
+
+    We check and add our pass-books up
+      Or keep our weekly Boards
+    Unhampered by the works of KRUPP
+      And all the KAISER'S swords;
+    At five o'clock we have our tea
+      And catch our usual bus--
+    So thank the LORD for those at sea
+      Who guard the likes of us.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE COWARDLY CONSUMERS CO-OPERATIVE COMPANY.
+
+The C.C.C.C. has been formed to provide for the wants of unpatriotic or
+panic-stricken persons in all parts of the country.
+
+WRITE TO US TO-DAY.
+
+WE HAVE MADE COMPLETE ARRANGEMENTS FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE.
+
+A FULL DINNER-TABLE FOR YOU WHILE OTHERS STARVE.
+
+HORS D'OEUVRES.--Ensure your _hors d'oeuvres_ by allowing us to turn
+your bath into a sardine tank. Your basement too should make an
+excellent oyster bed. We would flood it for you.
+
+SOUPS.--The mock turtles we supply are quite tame, and while waiting to
+be made into soup should keep your children amused. We also deliver
+Salted Oxtail by the furlong. Send for patterns.
+
+FISH.--Try one of our Frozen Whales and assure your fish course for the
+next six months.
+
+JOINTS.--Sheep-folds (with sheep) supplied at shortest notice to fit
+your tennis court, or you might order one of our Handy Styes, which have
+accommodation for half-a-dozen pigs (congenial company) and are suitable
+for erection in a corner of any flat or private residence.
+
+SWEETS.--Our "one ton" plum puddings placed in position on your premises
+by our own cranes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+READ OUR TESTIMONIALS.
+
+    _A Grateful Customer writes_:--"Your transformation of my boudoir
+    into a hen-pen is quite admirable, and enables us to face the future
+    with complete calm. As your circular reminds us, one feels more
+    comfortable about one's country when one is safe oneself."
+
+    _Another writes_:--"Many thanks for prompt attention. The
+    night-nursery makes an excellent cow-house, and the two cows used
+    the passenger-lift with perfect success."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WRITE US FOR QUOTATIONS FOR ANY QUANTITY OF PROVISIONS REQUIRED.
+
+So long as the order is large enough we will execute it. No orders for
+less value than L50 accepted.
+
+_SPECIAL NOTICE._
+
+Our Hoarding Department has prepared a neat stocking capable of holding
+750 sovereigns. Please ask to see one.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+All goods are delivered in our own heavily armoured pantechnicons.
+
+A charming miniature White Feather, suitable for personal adornment,
+will be presented to all customers.
+
+Take no notice whatever of any warnings in the newspapers not to buy
+largely. Think of yourselves. It is only you who matter. Buy now; buy
+quantities.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From the regulations governing special constables:--
+
+    "A special constable guilty of misconduct may be suspended from
+    duty, and, if so suspended, shall forthwith give up his warrant
+    card, truncheon, armlet, and whistle to the police officer
+    suspending him."
+
+What tune must he whistle to him?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "Admiral Jellicoe has a reputation for thoroughness in the naval
+    service, but a story which shows his kindly nature was told to me
+    to-day (says 'F.' in the 'Citizen'). A defence boom was being
+    constructed at Sheerness, and the admiral was dissatisfied with it.
+    He told the officer in command of some defects, and said it was not
+    so good as the boom at Portsmouth."
+
+We feel sure there must be even better stories about him than this.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"THEY ALSO SERVE."
+
+Jeremy threw away the stump of his after-dinner cigar and began to light
+another one.
+
+"Where's the economy of giving up smoking when you've got lots of cigars
+in the house?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, Jeremy," said his wife, "who says you ought to?"
+
+"The Vicar. He only smokes one non-throat cigarette a day himself. I
+told him he ought to give that up, but he said it was different. I say,
+it will want rather a large soldier for that shirt, won't it?" He sat on
+the arm of his wife's chair and began to play with the sleeve.
+
+"Jeremy, can't you find something to do?"
+
+"Yes." He went out and returned with his golf clubs, which he began to
+polish lovingly. "I think I shall have a round to-morrow. If FRANCIS
+DRAKE played bowls when the Spanish Fleet was in sight, I don't see why
+Jeremy Smith shouldn't play golf when the German Fleet is out of sight."
+
+"I thought you said you weren't going to till the war was over?"
+
+"I don't see why I shouldn't. Golf keeps us fit, and it is the duty of
+every Englishman to be fit just now."
+
+"But you really play golf because you like it."
+
+Jeremy looked up at her in surprise.
+
+"Really," he said, "I don't see why I shouldn't like doing my duty."
+
+"Oh, Jeremy!" sighed his wife. "You know I didn't mean that."
+
+"I know exactly what you meant." He dropped his clubs and began to pace
+the room. "You're filled with the idea that the only way a man can serve
+his country is by doing something he absolutely detests. That's why you
+made me a special constable." He stopped and glared at her. "A special
+constable! Me!"
+
+"Darling, it was your own idea entirely."
+
+"You said to yourself, 'There are men who would make excellent special
+constables--men with red faces and angry moustaches who take naturally
+to ordering other people about, men who instinctively push their way
+into the middle of a row when they see one, men with a lust for gore,
+great powerful men who have learnt ju-jitsu. But the fact that they'd
+all rather like it shows that it can't really be their duty to join;
+they wouldn't be making a big enough sacrifice. The men we want are the
+quiet, the mild, the inoffensive, the butterflies of life, the men who
+would simply loathe being special constables, the men who would be
+entirely useless at it'--and, having said this to yourself, you looked
+round and you saw _me_."
+
+Mrs. Jeremy smiled and shook her head at her husband, sighed again, and
+returned to her work.
+
+"And so now I'm a special constable, and I wear a belt and a truncheon,
+and what good do I do? Baby loves it, I admit that; Baby admires me
+immensely. When Nurse says, 'If you're not a good girl the special
+constable will be after you,' Baby shrieks with delight. But officially,
+in the village, I am useless.... Oh but I forgot, I arrested a man this
+morning."
+
+"Jeremy, and you never told me!" said Mrs. Jeremy excitedly.
+
+"Well, I wasn't quite sure at the time whether I arrested him or he
+arrested me. But in the clearer light of evening I see that it was
+really I who was doing the arresting. At any rate it was I who had the
+belt and the note-book."
+
+"Was it a German spy?"
+
+"No, it was old Jack, rather drunk. I arrested him for being intoxicated
+on a bridge--the one over the brook, you know, by Claytons. He put his
+arm round my neck and we started for the Haverley police-station
+together. I didn't want to go to the police-station, because it's three
+miles off, but Jack insisted.... He had me tight by the neck. I couldn't
+even make a note."
+
+"Wasn't he afraid of your truncheon?"
+
+"My darling, one couldn't hit old Jack with a truncheon; he's such a
+jolly old boy when he's sober." Jeremy played nervously with his wife's
+scissors, and added, "Besides he was doing things with the truncheon
+himself."
+
+"What sort of things?"
+
+"Conducting the _Marseillaise_ chiefly--we marched along in time to it."
+A smile spread slowly over Jeremy's face as the scene came back to him.
+"It must have looked splendid."
+
+"How dared he?" said Mrs. Jeremy indignantly.
+
+"Oh, well, if you make your husband a special constable you must expect
+these things. I consoled myself with the thought that I was doing my
+duty ... and that there was nobody about. You see, we made a detour and
+missed Haverley, and when we were nearly home again he left me. I mean I
+released him. You know, I'm not what I call a _good_ special constable.
+I did what I could, but there must be more in it than that."
+
+Mrs. Jeremy looked up and blew a kiss to him.
+
+"However," he went on, "I dropped in on him this evening and made him
+sign the pledge."
+
+"Well, there you are; you _have_ done some good."
+
+"Yes, but I hadn't got my truncheon on then. I spoke as Jeremy Smith,
+Esq." He put a brassey to his shoulder and said, "Bang," and went on, "I
+should be no good at all at the front, and Lord KITCHENER would be no
+good trying to paint my water-colours, but all the same I scored an
+inner last night. The scene at the range when it got about that the
+President had scored an inner was one of wild enthusiasm. When the news
+is flashed to Berlin it will give the GERMAN EMPEROR pause. Do you know
+that the most unpatriotic thing you can do is to make shirts for the
+wounded, when there are lots of poor women in the village who'd be only
+too glad of the job? Like little Miss Merton. And yet you think to get
+out of it by making your husband a special constable."
+
+Mrs. Jeremy put down her work and went over to her husband and knelt by
+his chair.
+
+"Do you know," she said, taking his hands in hers, "that there isn't a
+man, woman or child in this village who is idle or neglected or
+forgotten? That those who wanted to enlist have been encouraged and told
+how to, and that those who didn't want to have been shown other ways of
+helping? That it's all been done without any fuss or high-falutin or
+busy-bodying, and chiefly because of an absurd husband of mine who never
+talks seriously about anything, but somehow manages to make everybody
+else willing and good-tempered?"
+
+"Is that a fact?" said Jeremy, rather pleased.
+
+"It is. And this absurd husband didn't understand how much he was
+helping, and he had an idea that he ought to do something thoroughly
+uncomfortable, so he ordered a truncheon and gave up golf and made
+himself quite miserable ... and then put it all on to his wife."
+
+"Well, why didn't you stop me?" said Jeremy helplessly.
+
+"I wasn't going to be a drag on you; if you'd volunteered for a
+submarine I should have said nothing."
+
+"I should be useless in a submarine," said Jeremy thoughtfully; "I
+should only fall over the white mice. But I really thought you
+wanted---- Why then," he cried happily, "I might play golf to-morrow,
+you think?"
+
+"I wish you would," said Mrs. Jeremy.
+
+Jeremy took up his brassey and addressed an imaginary ball.
+
+"Sir Jeremy Smith playing golf in a crisis," he said. "Subject for
+historical picture."
+
+A. A. M.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: A DESPERATE MEASURE.
+
+_West Country Skipper (stationary in small Cornish port and ignorant
+of our Navy's control of the sea)._ "IF I PUTS OUT AN' GOES EAST I BE
+SUNK BY T' GERMANS, AN' IF I GOES SOUTH I BE SUNK BY T'
+AUSTRIA-'UNGRIANS. IT DU SEEM AS 'OW I WERE BEST TO BIDE WHERE I BE AN'
+GI' T' OLD SHIP A COAT O' PAAINT!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE WATCH DOGS.
+
+MY DEAR BILL,--It is now upwards of a fortnight since we were torn
+asunder, I being taken away to cope with the Germans and you being left
+at home to protect our property against the predatory attacks of our
+landlady. I imagine you would like to know how things are going with me,
+but please don't trouble to answer, for I don't in the least want to
+know how things are going with you. No one does, my boy; you are what we
+refer to as a _something_ civilian. You must forgive us, Bill; it is one
+of the too few pleasures in the life of the mobilized Territorial.
+
+Has that rosy, well-groomed body of yours ever sought repose on the
+tessellated floor of a public hall? Has it ever washed itself in an
+enamel mug? Has it ever set out on a round of visits with luggage
+limited to 35 lbs., inclusive of its bed? No, nor had mine before; and
+yet it doesn't seem to suffer much harm from the experience. What is
+more, we are beginning to find scope for little luxuries even in this
+narrow compass; there are mess tins, for instance, of the larger sort in
+which one may, with a little ingenuity, have a complete bath.
+
+When I set off last Tuesday week, with my chest out and my eyes right, I
+only got as far as the Infants School round the corner, where my company
+was foregathered. Here we spent our time, the hundred odd of us, getting
+together the necessaries of life: the most formidable of these was
+undoubtedly the housewife. I confess to a faint heart when I think of
+myself darning my socks in off moments between battles.
+
+From the Infants School we went to the Town Hall to join the Battalion,
+and the thousand of us marched to our war station, some thirty miles
+away. I hope I looked like a soldier as I stepped out, but I felt more
+like a general stores with all my stock hanging in my shop window. Next
+time I do this sort of thing I'm going to have a row of pegs on my back
+and an extra storey in my head-gear for oddments. There is no denying
+that the whole arrangement is an efficient one, the only failure being
+the cellar equipment. It seems to me that the War Office ought to have
+discovered some shady nook about the human body where one's drinking
+water could be kept cool. Also I think they have wasted space by not
+utilizing the inside of one's field-glasses for the carriage of
+something or other. A combination sword and razor would also be an
+economy.
+
+We increased in numbers as we progressed. At our war-station we joined
+the Brigade, making us four thousand in all, and from there we joined
+the Division, becoming about sixteen thousand. If we go on at this
+pace, we shall be getting into the millions soon, and then I think
+somebody's meals _must_ be overlooked. There's bound to be some limit to
+the capacity of these organizing people, although it certainly hasn't
+appeared yet. They moved our Brigade two hundred miles by train with
+less shouting and fuss than is usual with the single British family
+mobilising for its seaside resort. Their system of train-catching
+however is worth mentioning.
+
+Section Commanders were told to have their section ready by six-thirty.
+That was the order issued by us Lieutenants responsible for
+half-companies. We had been told to be ready by seven o'clock, under a
+threat of execution on the following dawn. Hence the margin of half an
+hour. We took our orders from our Captains, who had them from the
+Majors, who had them from the Adjutant, who had them from the C.O., who
+had them from the Brigadier, who had them from goodness knows where.
+Every rank is prepared to be shot, if need be, but desires, if possible,
+not to have it happen at dawn; so each officer, taking his order from
+his superior, puts on his margin before instructing his inferior.
+
+The Brigadier came round this morning to have a look at a guard. He
+found our one and only T. B. Ponks doing sentry. "Turn out the guard,"
+was the order. "Eh?" was the response. "Where is the guard?" asked the
+flushed suite. "A dunno," said T. B. The suite was inclined to be fussy,
+but our Brigadier is essentially human. "Where are the other lads?" he
+asked genially. "They 'm in theer," said T. B., pointing to the entrance
+with no particular enthusiasm. The Brigadier and his staff made as if to
+enter. "'Ere, you," called T. B., now galvanized into activity, "you
+can't go in theer," and he barred the way. We have since been lectured
+on the elements of military ceremonial, but at the same time we have
+been asked to volunteer as a unit for the fighting line if need be. I
+think the Brigadier has his doubts as to how T. B. and his sort will
+impress the Allies, but feels quite confident of their manner towards
+the enemy. It was the same T. B. who, being sent by the magnificent
+Lieutenant d'Arcy to summon Lance-Corporal Brown, was overheard calling,
+"Hi, Mr. Brown, d'Arcy wants yer."
+
+I must break off here, for I have had an intimation from Private Cox
+that now is my opportunity to see his bare feet. A fortnight ago I might
+have hesitated to accept this kind invitation; to-day I insist upon his
+bringing them along at once. In fact, my hobby in life is other people's
+feet; I have fitted a hundred pairs of them with socks and with boots,
+and I have assisted personally at the pricking of their blisters and the
+trimming of their excrescences. What a fall from our intellectual
+heights! But so it is with us, Bill; if we can once get those boys' feet
+in sound marching order, all the nice problems of the human soul which
+we used to canvass may go to the---- But I suppose that I must reserve
+that word for military use.
+
+By the way, when the battalion was asked to volunteer, the men only
+raised one point. They didn't trouble themselves about the work or the
+risk of it, but they wondered whether anybody really _would_ look after
+their homes and dependants when the excitement had died down a little.
+Their scepticism may be due to a certain music-hall comedian who used to
+declare as follows:--"And if, gentlemen, this glorious old country of
+ours shall ever be involved in war, I know, I say, gentlemen, that I
+know, there is not a man in this hall to-night who will fail to turn out
+and see the troops off."
+
+But to-day things are different, and these boys of ours, a noisy,
+troublesome and magnificent crew, need have no fear about the homes they
+leave behind them.
+
+    Yours ever,          HENRY.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: HOW WE SAVED THE HARVEST AT SLOSHINGTON-ON-SEA.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    "WANTED.--Girls to sort nuts."
+
+         _Advt. in "Liverpool Echo."_
+
+The object is to find if there are any without grease on their hair.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE TRIUMPH OF "CULTURE."
+
+        *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE MISFORTUNE OF WAR.
+
+_Tired Tim._ "'ERE, I DON'T ARF LIKE THE LOOK O' THIS, BILL."
+
+_Work-shy Willy._ "NO, MORE DON'T I, MATE. CUSS THAT THERE KAISER!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FELINE AMENITIES.
+
+Thanks to the courtesy of the Editor we are able to publish the
+following selections from the stories about cats sent in for the prize
+competition organised by _The Scottish Meekly_. The first received a
+complete edition of the sermons of Dr. Angus McHuish, the second a
+mounted photograph of Sir Nicholson Roberts, and the third a superb
+simulation gold pencil-case.
+
+THE LIFE-STORY OF A WILD CAT.
+
+Here is a true story of a wild stray cat which I hope may interest your
+readers. Some years ago I lived with my parents (my father being a
+retired manufacturer of artificial eyes) on the banks of the river
+Dodder, near Dundrum. In the back-garden there was an old summer-house,
+where we used to store cabbages, disused kippers, Carlsbad plums and
+other odds and ends, and here a stray cat took up his abode in an empty
+porter cask during the latter part of January, 1901. He was of some rare
+breed and very beautiful in appearance--a blend between a marmadillo and
+a young loofah--but so savage that no one dared to touch him. During the
+cold months of the year we placed bottles of stout in the summer-house
+for him, the corks of which he drew with his claws, which were
+remarkably long. In the summer-time he used to forage for himself,
+subsisting mainly on roach, with an occasional conger-eel which he
+caught in the Dodder. One day early in April, 1902, the cat--whom we
+called Beethoven, because of his indulgence in moonlight fantasias--came
+to the back door mewing, and on opening the door my father found that it
+had lost an eye--probably in a fight--and evidently wished him to supply
+the loss artificially, which he did. I have never heard a cat purr so
+loudly as Beethoven did on that occasion. After that he completely lost
+his shyness and became quite one of the family, singing in the choir on
+Sundays and contributing to the larder during the week by his skill as a
+fisherman. He lived with us until a few months ago, when he unhappily
+died through inadvertently swallowing a cork. He is buried in our
+garden, and on the stone are inscribed the following lines composed by
+my mother--
+
+    Here lies Beethoven in his grave,
+    No earthly power could him save;
+    An envious cork blocked up his breath
+    And that was how he met his death.
+
+         MRS. PULLAR LEGGE.
+
+         _Marine Villas, Brondesbury._
+
+CAT OR CHAMELEON?
+
+Piffles was a splendid pink Circassian--perfect in colour and shape,
+with glorious topaz eyes. But the extraordinary thing about him was a
+gift that he had for changing his colour. Thus my uncle, an old
+Anglo-Indian who always drank a bottle of Madeira after dinner, declared
+that from 10 P.M. onwards Piffles invariably seemed to him to be a
+bright crimson with green spots. Another peculiarity of Piffles was that
+he always followed the guns out shooting, and used to retrieve birds
+from the most difficult places. He practically ruled the household, took
+the boys back to school after the holidays, attended family prayers, and
+was learning to play the pianola when he was unfortunately killed by a
+crocodile which escaped from a travelling menagerie.
+
+         (MISS) IVY WAGG.
+
+         _The Oaks, Long Boughton._
+
+A FELINE PRACTICAL JOKER.
+
+Last year I had a cat who, whenever she was offended, used to go to my
+bedroom and throw various articles out of the window. I was constantly
+finding purses, powder-puffs, artificial teeth, safety-pins, hymn-books,
+etc., on the lawn, and never suspected the culprit until she was caught
+in the act.
+
+She also had a habit of sitting on the top of the front door and
+dropping golf-balls on the head of the postman, whom, either for his red
+hair or his Radical opinions, she disliked bitterly.
+
+She would eat and drink anything, including ice-pudding and green
+Chartreuse, and was always peculiarly cheerful on Thursday evenings,
+when _The Scottish Meekly_ reaches our house.
+
+         D. MONK HOWSON.
+
+         _Steep Bank, Grogport._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: "BETTER 'AVE ONE AND READ ABOUT IT NOW, SIR; IT MIGHT BE
+CONTERADICTED IN THE MORNING."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE SCRATCH HANDICAP.
+
+"What do you do?" asked Charles, "when people want you to play
+lawn-tennis?"
+
+"Sometimes I play," I said. "Sometimes I send Sophonisba. Sometimes I
+tell them that my head-keeper is away and I am obliged to look after the
+lop-ears. What happens to you?"
+
+"Well, you know what lawn-tennis is like nowadays. In the bygone
+butter-pat era I could hold my own with the best of them. Golf had
+hardly come in, and when one wasn't playing cricket, and the spilliken
+set had been mislaid, and tiddley-winks was voted too rough, a couple of
+sets or so was rather fun. Soft undulating courts, very hard to keep a
+footing on, and plenty of sticks and leaves to assist one's screws, and
+patches of casual whiting here and there so that you could say that it
+wasn't a fault but hit the line. Now all that is changed.
+Panther-limbed, hawk-eyed young persons leap about the lawn dressed in
+white from top to toe. They play on fast and level lawns, entirely
+circumscribed by a kind of deep-sea trawling apparatus. They want you to
+hit hard and well. I have only two strokes when I hit hard. One of them
+pierces the bottom of the seine or drag-net fixed across the fairway,
+the other brings the man round from the next-door garden but two to say
+that his cucumbers are catching cold. And then I do not understand their
+terms. What is a 'fore-hand drive'? It sounds like the coaching
+Marathon. And how do you put on top spin? Do you wind your racquet round
+and round the ball and then pull it away suddenly, or what? And
+cross-volleys--what in the world are they?"
+
+"Goodness knows," I said. "My own volleys are the best-tempered little
+chaps alive. But, hang it! no one can force you to play lawn-tennis if
+you don't want to."
+
+"Can't they?" said Charles. "That's just the point. They do. They say to
+me, 'You play golf and cricket; of course you can play tennis. Easiest
+thing in the world.' Swish! swish! they go, making a ferocious
+cross-hand top-lead from baulk with their umbrellas. 'That's how to do
+it. You'll soon get into the way of the stroke.' 'That's just what I'm
+afraid of,' I say, leaping nervously on to the table. But it's no good.
+'Come round next Saturday afternoon,' they say, 'we shall be expecting
+you,' and pass rapidly into the night before I can refuse."
+
+"One can always have a sick headache," I reminded him.
+
+"I did that once," said Charles. "I had been asked to play in a
+tournament, and at dinner the next evening I sat next to the girl who
+ought to have been my partner in the mixed handicaps, and we had
+meringues. No, it isn't safe, and besides one might always want to play
+golf. I think the best thing is to go once and trust to one's own skill
+not to be asked again. Anyhow, I don't believe the Jenkinsons will give
+me another invitation for some time."
+
+"What happened?" I asked. "I suppose when they've sewn up the net and
+bought new balls----"
+
+"No, it wasn't that," he answered, with a dreamy smile. "You know the
+Jenkinsons. You know how keen they are on tennis and how proud of their
+court. I did everything I could to save them, but they would have me. I
+said I had no racquet except the one I had used for landing trout in the
+spring, and they told me I could get it restrung. I said I had no shoes,
+and they told me any shoes would do. I couldn't tell them I had no
+flannels, because they wouldn't have believed me. So I went. I wore an
+old blue cricket cap on the back of my head: I wore long white trousers
+not turned up, and I wore brown shoes."
+
+"And your racquet?" I asked.
+
+"I borrowed a real tennis-racquet," replied Charles; "one of those
+narrow, rather wistful-looking things, with a kink in its head. I
+thought it would complete the languid artistic effect and help to
+convince them. It had rained a good deal in the morning, and I rather
+hoped we might spend the time looking at the conservatory and have
+muffins for tea. But no. When I reached the house I found that they had
+decided to play. They laughed at me a good deal, of course--at my cap,
+and my racquet, and my trousers, and my brown shoes. When we had taken
+up our stations in the arena they told me I was to serve first. I sent
+the ball high up into the air underhand and ran swiftly to the net." He
+paused melodramatically.
+
+"Go on," I said. "Was it the solar plexus or the eye?"
+
+"No," he answered sadly, "I was unwounded; but that was the last stroke
+I played. When I served that service they laughed at me again, but when
+I ran to the net they ceased to laugh. They said they could easily find
+someone else to complete the four. They pressed me to sit and watch for
+the remainder of the afternoon. Indeed, they were quite firm about it."
+
+"I don't understand," I said. "Was it your face that frightened them in
+the blue cap?"
+
+"Not so much my face," he answered gently, "as my feet."
+
+"What was the matter with them?"
+
+"There are big nails," he said softly, "in my brown golf shoes."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Trooper._ "COME ON BEHIND HERE AND TRAVEL WITH US,
+JIM!"
+
+_Jim_ (_from horse-box_). "NOT MUCH. NONE OF YOUR THIRD-CLASS FOR ME."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FROM ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW.
+
+It is a strange thing that, much as women have entered the writing lists
+with men, there is one branch of literature which they rarely attempt.
+Take away Mrs. BROWNING and CHRISTINA ROSSETTI and you will scarcely
+find a love poem by a woman, or, at any rate, a love poem which takes
+the woman's point of view. Probably many of the most cherished
+sentimental songs which wake the echoes of the drawing-room and
+conservatory are the work of women; but they write as men. It is always
+the masculine aspect which is set before the public; the beloved is
+always feminine. And yet marriage statistics show that precisely as many
+men have married as women. But during the preliminary period of exalted
+emotion any love poetry that was written was written by the men.
+
+Surely, as the advancement of woman proceeds, and she adds territory
+upon territory to her kingdom, she will redress the balance and write
+love poetry too.
+
+A very few changes in certain of the classic lyrics indicate how near
+the two varieties of love poems can be: male and female. Thus, why
+should not "he" as well as "she" have dwelt among untrodden ways? Why
+should not "he" have walked in beauty like the night? POE wrote
+magically about ANNABEL LEE; why should not one of his female relatives,
+for example, have written in a similar strain? Something like this:--
+
+    It was many and many a year ago,
+      In a kingdom by the sea,
+    That a gentleman lived whom you may know
+      By the name of Hannibal Lee;
+    And this gentleman lived with no other thought
+      Than to love and be loved by me.
+
+Women must see to it that men do not have it all their own way for ever.
+LANDOR was moved to a perfect lyric by love of ROSE AYLMER. Is the
+following any less perfect?
+
+    Ah! what avails the sceptred race?
+      Ah! what the form divine?
+    What every virtue, every grace?
+      George Aylmer, all were thine.
+
+    George Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
+      May weep, but never see,
+    A night of memories and sighs
+      I consecrate to thee.
+
+George is of course not the only name, nor is Aylmer. The adaptrix,
+however, must be careful that the Christian name is a monosyllable and
+the other a dissyllable.
+
+Again, in the following feminine version of a Shakspearean song the name
+is subject to alteration:--
+
+    Who is Bertie? What is he
+      That all the girls commend him?
+    Handsome, brave and wise is he;
+      The heavens such grace did lend him
+    That he might admired be.
+
+Examples might be adduced from many poets, but two more will suffice. A
+female TENNYSON might have begun a song in the following terms:--
+
+    It is the youthful miller,
+      And he is grown so dear, so dear,
+    That I would be the pencil
+      That trembles on his ear:
+    For 'midst his curls by day and night
+    I'd touch his neck so warm and white.
+
+Finally, let us look at the very prince of love poets--ROBBIE BURNS.
+Two of his most famous songs might as well have been written of swains
+as maidens. Here is one in which in the most natural way in the world
+lassie becomes laddie, and Mary, Harry:--
+
+    Go, fetch to me a cup o' tea,
+      And take it from a silver caddie,
+    That I may drink a health to thee,
+      A service to my bonnie laddie!
+    The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,
+      Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry,
+    The ship rides by the Berwick-Law,
+      And I maun leave my bonnie Harry.
+
+Is that injured by the change? Not a bit. And here is another in which
+we have successfully introduced a variation of the original name:--
+
+    Of a' the airts the wind can blaw
+      I dearly like the west,
+    For there the bonnie laddie lives,
+      The laddie I lo'e best.
+    There wild woods grow, and rivers row
+      By mony a fleecy flock,
+    But day and night my fancy's flight
+      Is ever wi' my Jock.
+
+After reading these famous stanzas in their amended form our women poets
+may perhaps take heart and emulate them: to the immense delight of their
+_fiances_, who like to be wooed as well as to woo, and have never shied
+very much at adulation.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MR. PUNCH'S HOLIDAY STORIES.
+
+III.--THE FIGHT OF THE CENTURY.
+
+For weeks past the press had discussed little but the coming boxing
+contest between Smasher Mike and the famous heavy-weight champion,
+Mauler Mills, for a purse of L20,000 and enormous side stakes.
+Photographs of the Mauler in every conceivable attitude had been
+published daily, together with portraits of his wife, his two children,
+his four maiden aunts and the pink-eyed opossum which he regarded as his
+mascot. Full descriptions of his training day by day, with details of
+his diet, his reading, his amusements and his opinions on war, divorce,
+the clergy and kindred subjects, testified to the extraordinary
+interest taken by the public in the titanic struggle.
+
+But with regard to Smasher Mike the newspapers were at a loss. _The
+Daily Flash_ indeed declared him to be the son of a popular Cabinet
+Minister, and triumphantly published photographs of Downing Street, the
+Woolsack, the Ladies' Gallery and Black Rod. _The Daily Rocket_, on the
+other hand, described him as a herculean docker, discovered and trained
+by a syndicate of wealthy Americans, and issued photographs of Tilbury
+Station, Plymouth Hoe and the Statue of Liberty in New York harbour. The
+fact remained that the identity of the daring challenger was a well-kept
+secret.
+
+Mauler Mills was too experienced a pugilist to be perturbed by the
+mystery surrounding his adversary. The stakes had been handed in, and
+the purse of L20,000, in one pound-notes, had formed a full-page
+illustration in _The Trumpet_, with a photo of the Mauler eating
+gooseberries inset. Content with this knowledge, he trained faithfully
+and well, treated the interviewers with great courtesy, and publicly
+announced that Smasher Mike would be knocked out early in the third
+round by means of a left hook to the jaw.
+
+The betting on Mauler Mills was a hundred to one.
+
+Young Lord Tamerton was in desperate straits. The estate to which he had
+succeeded at the age of ten had been administered during his minority by
+a fraudulent executor, who had absconded to South America with his
+ill-gotten wealth. Matters had since gone steadily from bad to worse,
+and the young peer was now face to face with utter ruin.
+
+An effort had been made to retrieve the family fortunes by the marriage
+of his sister, the beautiful Lady Margaret Tamerton, to her cousin, the
+wealthy Sir Ernest Scrivener, but the providential discovery that the
+latter was already married under the _alias_ of Marmaduke Moorsdyke had
+prevented the match. Since then Sir Ernest had been their implacable and
+relentless enemy, and his desperate attempt to kidnap Lady Margaret had
+only been frustrated by the skill and courage of the famous athlete,
+Ralph Wonderson.
+
+Lord Tamerton was seated at a grand piano, playing BACH and moodily
+reflecting on these matters, when Ralph Wonderson himself entered the
+room, vaulting lightly over piano and performer as he did so.
+
+"What's the matter, Fred?" he asked. "You look blue."
+
+Lord Tamerton dramatically threw L8 4_s._ 6_d._ on the table.
+
+"This morning I pawned the Island Cup, which you won for us," he said
+bitterly. "That is the result, and that is what stands between me and
+starvation." His voice broke, "And--and between Madge and starvation,"
+he added.
+
+Ralph laughed gaily. "I'm not rich," he said, "and if I were I don't
+suppose you'd accept money from me. But I came here purposely to put you
+in the way of making it. Wager as heavily as you can on Smasher Mike.
+The odds are a hundred to one against him. I can introduce you to a man
+who will consider your name sufficient security for a loan of L5,000.
+That will bring you in L500,000, which should secure you at any rate
+from absolute privation. As for little Madge--well, I have a bare L8,000
+a year, but if----"
+
+A light step was heard behind him, and a small hand stole into his own.
+
+"I would marry you," said Lady Margaret, "I would marry you if it were
+only L7,000."
+
+As the lovers gazed fondly into each other's eyes, a sinister figure
+emerged from the grand piano and slipped out noiselessly through the
+open door.
+
+(_To be concluded in our next._)
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Burglar (to his mate)._ "SEE WOT PEOPLE GITS FUR BEIN'
+UNPATRIOTIC! IT'S A PURE TREAT TO GIVE THESE 'ERE GOLD 'OARDERS A
+LESSON."
+
+        *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sad Case of Cannibalism by Robert.
+
+    "Milton scarcely heard her. He was too intent upon wondering how
+    Robert came to be dining tete-a-tete with the one-time Adeline
+    Goodrin, and--if the truth be told--upon that amazing woman,
+    herself."
+
+         _"Daily Mail" feuilleton._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From _Chemistry of Plant Products_:--
+
+    "D'Arbamont concludes that starch, and presumably also sugar, may or
+    may not be essential for the formation of chlorophyll."
+
+We came to the same conclusion long ago.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: _Excited Veteran._ "THE ALLIES WILL PROBABLY REACH HERE
+AND THEN SWEEP ROUND WITH A SUDDEN FLANKING MOVEMENT."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)
+
+The heroine of _Alberta and the Others_ (SIDGWICK AND JACKSON) was the
+eldest of an orphaned family of girls and boys who were finding life a
+little boring in an English village; and when an unexpected legacy made
+her mistress of a couple of town lots in a place called Sunshine, in
+Western Canada, nothing would content her but to emigrate with the whole
+tribe--reinforced by a delightful _Aunt Mary_ and an animal known as the
+Meritorious Cat--to the Land of Promise. The book is the history of how
+they got on there. Naturally, from the circumstances of their start and
+the giddy altitude of _Alberta's_ hopes, you will be prepared for its
+being, to some extent at least, a story of disillusion. Miss MADGE S.
+SMITH, who wrote it, says that it is all true; and indeed there is much
+in the tale that stamps it as the outcome of personal experience. This
+being so, I could wish that her attitude in the matter had been a little
+less uncompromisingly English. In many ways the language and general
+outlook of the daughter of an Oxford don will no doubt differ
+considerably from that of a Canadian-born inhabitant of a prairie
+township; but that is no good reason for assuming an air of patronage.
+However, this defect, though it exists, is not so pronounced as to spoil
+one's enjoyment of an entertaining record, written, as the publishers
+say, "in high spirits throughout," and having, I fancy, just this much
+fiction mingled with its obvious fact, that it ends with a general
+pairing off and the prospect of three weddings--which seems, as _Lady
+Bracknell_ observed in a similar connection, "a number considerably
+above the average that statistics have laid down for our guidance." But
+at least it is the _amende honorable_ to the Land of Promise.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+From the cover of _A Tail of Gold_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON) I gather with
+respectful interest that its author, Mr. DAVID HENNESSEY, recently won
+four hundred pounds with another story in open competition. I did not
+read the story in question, but in view of its satisfactory financial
+result I may be permitted to express a hope that it was considerably
+better work than the present volume. Let me be entirely fair. _A Tail of
+Gold_ has some pictures of Australian mining life that are not without
+interest; but I am bound to add that a careful and sympathetic perusal
+has failed to disclose any other reason for its existence. The plot, so
+far as there is one, concerns the chequered career of a certain _Major
+Smart_, who seems to have been by no means all that a major should be.
+Amongst other unpleasing peculiarities, he was apparently possessed of a
+fetish that brought misfortune or death to all who were associated with
+him. These results were in the main involuntary; but it is only just to
+add that _Smart_ was not above assisting nature to take her course.
+Thus, some years before the opening of the story, he had deliberately
+buried one poor lady alive in a cave containing sulphide of mercury.
+Never ask me why. I am as muddled by this as I am over his further
+conduct in leaving with the corpse every possible clue in the way of
+letters and ciphers that could bring his guilt home to him. In any
+ordinary novel he would have been convicted in a few chapters; but _A
+Tail of Gold_ wags (if I may use the term) so leisurely, and its action
+is so much impeded by false starts and repetitions and general
+haphazardness, that there is no telling how long it might not have
+continued but for the limitations of volume form. No, I can't pretend I
+liked it much.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Madame ALBANESI, in _The Cap of Youth_ (HUTCHINSON), cannot be accused
+of excessive kindness to her own sex, for the charming women of the
+book are almost snuffed out by two poisonous females, _Lady Bollington_
+and _Lady Catherine Chiltern_. Indeed these ladies are a little too much
+of a bad thing, and, not for the first time, I am left thinking how
+wonderfully Madame ALBANESI'S novels might be improved if she could
+persuade herself to bestow an occasional virtue upon her wicked
+characters. The heroine, _Virginia_, escaped from the hands of one of
+the pair only to fall under the thumb of the other. I must admit,
+however, that _Lady Catherine_ had some reason to be angry at having
+_Virginia_ suddenly dumped upon her as a derelict daughter-in-law. Why
+_Brian Chiltern_ married in haste and then left his wife to endure such
+impossible conditions you must find out for yourself, but I fancy you
+will agree that his delicacy of feeling amounted to sheer stupidity.
+Nevertheless this story is bound to be popular, and I should have had no
+complaint to make if I did not feel that its author has it in her to do
+better work.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Even readers to whom American humour is generally a little indigestible
+may glean some smiles from _Penrod_ (HODDER AND STOUGHTON), provided
+that it is taken in small doses and not in the lump. If this book were
+to be considered a study of the normal American boy I should cry with
+vigour, "Save me from the breed," but as a fanciful account of a
+thorough and egregious imp of mischief I can, within limits, offer my
+congratulations to Mr. BOOTH TARKINGTON. The triumph of _Penrod_ lies in
+the fact that, although he brought woe and tribulation to his relations
+and exasperated his friends to the point of insanity, it is nevertheless
+impossible to suppress an affection for him. Ofttimes and hard his
+father chastised him with rods, but _Penrod_ merely accepted these
+beatings as the price that had to be paid for leading an adventurous
+life, and showed not the smallest signs of repentance. Yes, I like
+_Penrod_, though I have not any great desire to meet him in the flesh.
+It grieves me, however, that such a character as _Mr. Kinosling_ should
+have been dragged in by the heels. If fatuous clerics are worth any
+novelist's attention they certainly are not worth Mr. TARKINGTON'S, and
+the only effect _Mr. Kinosling_ had upon me was to fortify my conviction
+that it is far easier to begin a book of humour than to finish it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Illustration: THE NORTH SEA PERIL.
+
+"BY JOVE, I PITY THE GERMANS IF _SHE_ GETS HOLD OF 'EM!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_EN PASSANT._
+
+    Loud swells the roar of traffic in the street,
+      The motor-buses rumble on and wind
+      Their plaintive warnings as they come behind
+    Faint folk who dally, dazed by summer heat;
+    The reckless taxis seem a deal too fleet
+      To country cousins nervously inclined,
+      And raucous news-boys fret the curious mind
+    With spicy rumours of the foe's defeat.
+
+    But suddenly a hush falls everywhere:
+      Stopp'd is each taxi with its languid load,
+      And, as the City's silence deeper grows,
+    Only a barrel-organ churns the air
+      While Peggy (in the middle of the road)
+    Pauses to put some powder on her nose!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mr. Chaplin as an Apache.
+
+    "RETIREMENT OF MR. HENRY CHAPLIN.
+
+    SAFETY OF THE STREETS."
+
+         _The Times._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+147, August 26th, 1914, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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