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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:47:06 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:47:06 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29217-8.txt b/29217-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d1e70f --- /dev/null +++ b/29217-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2732 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. 147, +July 8, 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, July 8, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 24, 2009 [EBook #29217] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, JULY 8, 1914 *** + + + + +Produced by Neville Allen, Hagay Giller, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + PUNCH, + + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + + VOLUME 147 + + July 8, 1914 + + CHARIVARIA. + +LORD BRASSEY is said to be annoyed at the way in which his recent +adventure at Kiel was exaggerated. He landed, it seems, on the mole of +the Kaiser Dockyard, not noticing a warning to trespassers--and certain +of our newspapers proceeded at once to make a mountain out of the mole. + + * * * + +Mr. ROOSEVELT'S American physician, Dr. ALEXANDER LAMBERT, has confirmed +the advice of his European physicians that the EX-PRESIDENT must have +four months' rest and must keep out of politics absolutely for that +period; and it is said that President WILSON is also of the opinion that +the distinguished invalid owes it to his country to keep quiet for a +time. + + * * * + +At the farewell banquet to Lord GLADSTONE members of the Labour Unions +surrounded the hotel and booed loudly with a view to making the speeches +inaudible. As the first serious attempt to protect diners from an orgy +of oratory this incident deserves recording. + + * * * + +There appear to have been some amusing misfits in the distribution of +prizes at the recent Midnight Ball. For example a young lady of +pronounced sobriety, according to _The Daily Chronicle_, secured a case +of whisky and went about asking if she could get it changed for perfume. +Whisky is, of course, essentially a man's perfume. + + * * * + +There are One Woman Shows as well as One Man Shows in these days. An +invitation to be present at a certain function in connection with a +certain charitable institution announces:-- + +"ATHLETIC SPORTS AND DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES by LADY ---- ----." + + * * * + +Some surprise is being expressed in non-legal circles that the actress +who lost the case which she brought against SANDOW, LIMITED, for +depicting her as wearing one of their corsets, did not apply for stays +of execution. + + * * * + +Quite a number of our picture galleries are now closed, and it has been +suggested that, with the idea of reconciling the public to this state of +affairs, there shall be displayed conspicuously at the entrance to the +buildings the reminder, "_Ars est celare artem_." + + * * * + +_The Gentlewoman_, by the way, which is publishing a series of articles +entitled "Woman's Work at the 1914 Academy," omits to show us photos of +Mr. SARGENT'S and Mr. CLAUSEN'S paintings after certain women had worked +upon them. + + * * * + +The Admiralty dismisses as "a silly rumour" the report that one of our +new first-class destroyers is to be named _The Suffragette_. + + * * * + +In Mr. STEPHEN PHILLIPS' play, _The Sin of David_, we are to see +Cavaliers and Roundheads. This will be a welcome change, for in most of +the theatres nowadays one sees a preponderance of Deadheads. + + * * * + +The intrepid photographer again! _The Illustrated London News_ +advertises:-- + +PHOTOGRAVURE PRESENTATION PLATE OF + +GENERAL BOOTH AND +MRS. BRAMWELL BOOTH + +LIONS PHOTOGRAPHED AT 5 YARDS' +DISTANCE. + + * * * + +Once upon a time Red Indians used to kidnap Whites. Last week, Mrs. W. +BOWMAN CUTTER, a wealthy widow of seventy, living at Boston, +Massachusetts, eloped with her 21-year-old Red-skin chauffeur. + + * * * + +A memorial to a prize-fighter who was beaten by TOM SAYERS was unveiled +at Nottingham last week. Should this idea of doing honour to defeated +British heroes spread to those of to-day our sculptors should have a +busy time. + + * * * + +A visitor to Scarborough nearly lost his motor-car in the sands at Filey +last week: it sank up to the bonnet and was washed by the sea before it +was hauled to safety by four horses. Neptune is said to have been not a +little annoyed at the car's escape, as he realises that his old chariot +drawn by sea-horses is now sadly _démodé_. + + * * * + +A new organisation, called "The League of Wayfarers," has been formed. +Its members apparently consist of "child policemen," who undertake to +protect wild flowers. How it is going to be done we do not quite +understand. Presumably, small boys will hide behind, say, dandelions, +and emit a loud roar when anyone tries to pluck the tender plant. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. + +_Romantic Tripper._ "TELL ME, HAVE YOU EVER PICKED UP ANY BOTTLES ON THE +BEACH?" + +_Boatman._ "WERRY OFTEN, MISS!" + +_Romantic Tripper._ "AND HAVE YOU FOUND ANYTHING IN THEM?" + +_Boatman._ "NOT A BLESSED DROP, MISS!" + + * * * * * + +When _The Yorkshire Post_ and _The Hull Daily Mail_ differ, who shall +decide between them? _The Hull Daily Mail_ asserts positively that A. +PAPAZONGLON won the long jump at the Bridlington Grammar School sports +and that C. PAPAZONGLON was second in the 100 yards and High Jump. Its +contemporary, however, unhesitatingly awards these positions to C. +PAPAZONGLOU, C. PAPAZONGA and G. PAPAZAGLOU respectively. But it gives +the "Victor Ludorum" cup to a new competitor, C. PAPAZOUGLOU, and again +differs from _The Hull Daily Mail_, which knows for a fact that it was +won by C. PPAZONGLON. Whom shall we believe? + + * * * * * + + "ASQUITH DENIES MILITANT PLEA. + + Receives Working Women but Won't Introduce Bill."--_New York Evening + Sun._ + +We are left with the uneasy impression that William is a snob. + + * * * * * + + "On a divan the motion for rejection was carried by 178 to + 136."--_Daily Chronicle._ + +Our politicians are right to take it easy this hot weather. + + * * * * * + +A PATRIOT UNDER FIRE. + +(_Observed during the recent heat wave._) + + Philip, I note with unaffected awe + How, with the glass at 90 in the cool, + You still obey inflexibly the law + That governs manners of the British school; + How, in a climate where the sweltering air + Seems to be wafted from a kitchen copper, + You still refuse to lay aside your wear + Of sable (proper). + + The Civil Service which you so adorn + Would lose its prestige, visibly grown slack, + And all its lofty pledges be forsworn + Were you to deviate from your boots of black; + Were you to shed that coat of sombre dye, + That ebon brain-box (imitation beaver) + Whose torrid aspect strikes the passer-by + With tertian fever. + + As something far beyond me I respect + The virtue, equal to the stiffest crux, + Which thus forbids your costume to deflect + Into the primrose path of straw and ducks; + I praise that fine regard for red-hot tape + Which calmly and without an eyelid's flutter + Suffers the maddening noon to melt your nape + As it were butter. + + "His clothes are not the man," I freely own, + Yet often they express the stuff they hide, + As yours, I like to fancy, take their tone + From stern, ascetic qualities inside; + Just as the soldier's heavy marching-gear + Conceals a heart of high determination, + Too big, in any temperature, to fear + Nervous prostration. + + I cite the warrior's case who goes through fire; + For you, no less a patriot, face your risk + When in your country's service you perspire + In blacks that snort at Phoebus' flaming disc; + So, till a medal (justly made of jet) + Records your grit and pluck for all to know 'em, + I on your chest with safety-pins will set + This inky poem. + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +"THE PURPLE LIE." + + +"Arabella," I said, examining the fuzzy part of her which projected +above the dome of the coffee-pot, "I perceive that you mope. That being +so, I am glad to be able to tell you that I have been presented with two +tickets for _The Purple Lie_ to-morrow evening." + +"Sorry," she replied, "but it's off." + +"Off!" I exclaimed indignantly, "when the box-office is being besieged +all day by a howling mob, and armoured commissionaires are constantly +being put into commission to defend it. Off!" + +"What I mean to say is," said Arabella, "that we're dining with the +Messington-Smiths to-morrow evening." + +I bowed my head above the marmalade and wept. "Arabella," I groaned, +looking up at last, "what have we done that these people should continue +to supply us with food? We do not love them, and they do not love us. +The woman is a bromide. Her husband is even worse. He is a phenacetin. I +shall fall asleep in the middle of the asparagus and butter myself +badly. Think, moreover, of the distance to Morpheus Avenue. Remember +that I have been palpitating to see _The Purple Lie_ for weeks." + +"So have I," said Arabella. "It's sickening, but I am afraid we must +pass those tickets on." + +I happened that day to be lunching with my friend Charles. "The last +thing in the world I want to do," I said to him, "is to oblige you in +any way, but I chance to have--ahem!--purchased two stalls for _The +Purple Lie_ which I cannot make use of. I had forgotten that I am dining +with some very important and--er--influential people to-morrow night. +When a man moves as I do amid a constant whirl of gilt-edged +engagements----" + +"Ass!" said Charles, and pocketed the tickets. + +On the following morning I perceived a large crinkly frown at the +opposite end of the breakfast table, and, rightly divining that Arabella +was behind it, asked her what the trouble was. + +"It's the Messington-Smiths," she complained. "They can't have us to +dinner after all. It seems that Mrs. Messington-Smith has a bad sore +throat." + +"Any throat would be sore," I replied, "that had Mrs. Messington-Smith +talking through it. I wonder whether Charles is using those tickets." + +"You might ring up and see." + +To step lightly to the telephone, ask for Charles's number, get the +wrong one, ask again, find that he had gone to his office, ring him up +there and get through to him, was the work of scarcely fifteen minutes. +"Charles," I said, "are you using those two stalls of mine to-day?" + +"Awfully sorry," he replied, "but I can't go myself. I gave them away +yesterday evening." + +"Wurzel!" I said. "Who to?" + +"To whom," he corrected gently. "To a dull man I met in the City named +Messington-Smith." + +"Named _what_?" I shrieked. + +"Messington-Smith. _M_ for Mpret, _E_ for Eiderdown----" + +"Where does he live?" + +"21, Morpheus Avenue." + +For a moment the room seemed to spin round me. I put down the +transmitter and pressed my hand to my forehead. Then in a shaking voice +I continued--"Of all the double-barrelled, unmitigated, blue-faced----" + +"What number, please?" sang a sweet soprano voice. I rang off, and went +to break the news to Arabella. + +She was silent for a few moments, and then asked me suddenly, +"Whereabouts in the stalls were those seats of ours?" + +"Almost in the middle of the third row," I replied mournfully. + +Arabella said no more, but with a rather disdainful smile on her face +walked firmly to her little escritoire, sat down, wrote a note, and +addressed it to Mrs. Messington-Smith. + +"What have you said?" I asked, as she stamped her letter with a rather +vicious jab on KING GEORGE'S left eye. + +"Just that I am sorry about her old sore throat," she replied. "And then +I went on, that wasn't it funny by the same post we had been given two +stalls for _The Purple Lie_ to-night in a very good place in the middle +of the third row? She will get the letter by lunch-time," she added +pensively, "and it will be so nice for her to know that we shall be +sitting almost next to them." + +"But we aren't going to _The Purple Lie_ at all," I protested. + +"No," she said, "and as a matter of fact I don't suppose the +Messington-Smiths are either--now." + +I left Arabella smiling triumphantly through her tears, +but when I returned in the evening the breakfast-time frown had +reappeared with even crinklier ramifications. + +"Why," I asked, "are you looking like a tube map?" + +"Mrs. Messington-Smith," she answered with a slight catch in her voice, +"has just been telephoning." + +"I thought the receiver looked a bit played out," I said. "What does she +want with us now?" + +"Well, she _has_ got a sore throat after all. You could tell that from +her voice. And she isn't going to _The Purple Lie_ either. She never +even meant to." + +"But the tickets," I gasped. + +"She and her husband quite forgot about them till to-day," said +Arabella. "And now they have given them away to some friends. But they +weren't given away at all till this afternoon, and----" + +She broke off and gave a lachrymose little sniff. + +"And what?" + +"And she knew, of course, that we're disengaged to-night, and when she +got my letter she was just going to send them round to us." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: BEATEN ON POINTS. + +L.C.C. TRAM. "HARD LINES ON ME!" + +MOTOR-'BUS. "YES, IT'S ALWAYS HARD LINES WITH YOU, MY BOY. THAT'S WHAT'S +THE MATTER; YOU CAN'T SIDE-STEP." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: "WHO'S THE LITTLE MAN HOLDING HIS RACKET THAT FUNNY WAY?" + +"OH, THAT'S MR. BINKS. HE TAKES THE PLATE ROUND IN CHURCH, YOU KNOW." + + * * * * * +Commercial Candour. + +From a testimonial:-- + + "I have had this cover on the rear wheel of my 3-1/2 h.p. Humber + Motor Cycle and have ridden same 7,000 miles, six of these without a + puncture."--_Advt. in "Motor Cycle."_ + + * * * * * + +"MRD. CPL., temporary."--_Advt. in "Daily Mail."_ + +When we tell you that the mystic letters mean "married couple," you will +share our horror. + + * * * * * + +WOMAN AT THE FIGHT. + + In ancient unsophisticated days + Women were valued for their cloistered ways. + And won at Rome encouragement from man + Only because they stayed at home and span; + While PERICLES in Attic Greek expressed + The view that those least talked about were best. + There were exceptions, but the normal Greek + Regarded SAPPHO as a dangerous freak, + And CLYTEMNESTRA for three thousand years + Was pelted with unmitigated sneers, + Till RICHARD STRAUSS and HOFMANNSTHAL combined + To prove that she was very much maligned. + + But now at last these cloistered days are o'er + And woman, breaking down her prison door, + Is free to take the middle of the floor. + No more for her indomitable soul + The meekly ministering angel _rôle_; + No more the darner of her husband's socks, + She takes delight in watching champions box, + Finds respite from the carking cares that vex us + In cheering blows that reach the solar plexus, + Joins in the loud and patriotic shout + While beaten BELL is being counted out, + And--joy that makes all other joys seem nil-- + Writes her impressions for _The Daily Thrill_. + + * * * * * + +ONCE UPON A TIME. + +THE SUSCEPTIBLE AMERICAN. + +Once upon a time there was a beautiful singer named Miss Iris Bewlay. +Every now and then she gave a recital, and it was always crowded. She +was chosen to sing "God save the King" at bazaars and Primrose League +meetings; her rendering of "Home, Sweet Home" moistened every eye. +Hostesses wishing to be really in the swim engaged her to sing during +after-dinner conversation for enormous fees. + +When Miss Iris Bewlay was approaching the forties and adding every day +to her wealth, another Miss Bewlay--not Iris, but Gladys, and no +relation whatever--was gradually improving her gift of song with a +well-known teacher, for it was Miss Gladys Bewlay's intention, with her +parents' strong approval, to become a professional. She had not, it is +true, her illustrious namesake's commanding presence or powerful +register, but her voice was sweet and refined and she might easily have +a future. + +It happened that a susceptible music-loving American staying in London +for a short time was taken by some English friends to a concert at which +Miss Iris Bewlay was singing, and he fell at once a victim to her tones. +Never before had he heard a voice which so thrilled and moved him. He +returned to his hotel enraptured, and awoke with but one desire and that +was to hear Miss Bewlay again. + +"Say, where is a Miss Bewlay singing to-night?" he asked the hotel +porter. + +The porter searched all the concert announcements, but found no mention +of the great name. In the end he advised a visit to one of the ticket +libraries, and off the enthusiast hurried. + +Now it happened that this very evening was the one chosen for the +_début_, before a number of invited friends, of Miss Gladys Bewlay, and +one of the guests chanced to be at the ticket library at the moment the +susceptible American entered and fired his question at the clerk. + +"Say, can you tell me where Miss Bewlay is singing to-night?" he said. + +The clerk having no information, the susceptible American was turning +away when the guest of the other Bewlay family ventured to address him +with the information that Miss Bewlay was singing that evening at a +private gathering at one of the halls. + +"Couldn't I get in?" the American asked. + +"It's private," said the lady. "It's only for the friends of the +family." + +"Let me take down the address, anyway," said he, and took it down. + +That evening, just before Miss Gladys Bewlay's first song, a visiting +card was handed to one of her brothers, with the statement that a +gentleman desired the pleasure of a moment's interview on a matter of +great importance. + +"See here," said the gentleman, and it was none other than the +susceptible American, "I'm just crazy about Miss Bewlay's singing. They +tell me she's here to-night. Now I know it's a strange thing to ask, but +I want to know if you can't just let me lean against a pillar somewhere +at the back while she's singing, and then I'll go right away. It's my +last chance for some time, you see. I go back to America to-morrow." + +The brother, not a little impressed by his sister's magnetism, all +unsuspected in a _débutante_, and imagining the American to have heard +her at a lesson, said he saw no reason why this little scheme should not +be carried out; and so the American entered and took up an obscure +position; and in a short while Miss Bewlay ascended the platform and +began to sing. + +When she had finished the American approached one of the guests and +begged to be told the name of the singer. + +"Miss Bewlay," said the guest. "It's her first appearance to-night." + +"Miss Bewlay," gasped the American. "Then there are two of them. You say +this is her first appearance?" + +"Yes." + +"Then she's very young?" + +"Only about twenty." + +The American returned to his corner, and the second song began. + +Whatever disappointment his ears may have suffered it would have been +obvious to close observers that his eyes were contented enough. They +rested on the fair young singer with delight and admiration, and when +she had finished there was no applause like the susceptible American's. + +When Miss Bewlay's brother had gradually worked his way to the back of +the room, he found the American in an ecstasy. + +"She's great," he said. "Say, would it be too much to ask you to +introduce me?" + +"Not at all," said the brother, who was as pleased at his sister's +success as though it were his own. + +The American did not return to his own country the next day, nor for +many days after; and when he did he was engaged to Miss Gladys Bewlay. + +Isn't that a pretty fairy story? and almost every word of it is true. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: "MY DEAR OLD FELLOW! WHAT'S THE MATTER? THE SEA'S LIKE A +DUCK-POND!" + +"I KNOW, OLD BOY--BUT I'VE TAKEN SIX--DIFFERENT--REMEDIES." + + * * * * * + +A SEASIDE "SONG SCENA." + +Yesterday I celebrated the beginning of my holidays by patronising _The +Melodities_ on the beach. _The Melodities_ are a band of entertainers +who draw enormous salaries for giving a couple of performances daily in +a kind of luxurious open-air theatre. + +"Ladies and Gentlemen," announced the Manager soon after I had taken my +seat, "our first item will be a Song Scena entitled _The Moon_, by +Bertie Weston, assisted by six members of the company." A quiver of +expectation ran through the crowded audience. + +Bertie Weston, wearing a uniform resembling (I imagine) that of a +Patagonian Vice-Admiral, advanced mincingly to the footlights, and the +six others, similarly attired, ranged themselves in a row behind him. +Behind these again dropped a back-cloth representing a stone balustrade, +blue hills and fleecy clouds. + +There was a burst of warm applause, in response to which Bertie politely +bowed his thanks. Without further preliminary he commenced-- + + The crescent moon on high + Is shining in the sky. + +Here the six turned up their faces and gazed pensively at the heavens +(it was still broad daylight, by the way), at the same time resting +their chins on their right hands and their right elbows on their left +hands. + + The sun is gone, + The stars are wan, + Oh come, my love, we'll wander, you and I. + +Here the six ceased to regard the sky, split into pairs and by +pantomimic gesture invited one another to wander. + + Across the hills we'll go, + While birds sing soft and low, + +The singer paused for an instant, while the six, now formed into a +semicircle, hummed together softly a suggestion of distant nightingales. +Not an imitation--that would be too banal--but a suggestion. In point of +fact I thought I detected the air of "The Little Grey Home in the West." + + While the silver moon adorns the summer sky. + +After a brief pause, brightened by what are vulgarly termed twiddly bits +on the piano, the soloist sang the chorus, softly and appealing, with a +sort of treacly intonation:-- + + Moon, moon, moon, + We'll come soon, soon, + Across the hills while all the world is dreaming. + Moon, moon, moon, + I'd like to swoon, swoon, + +The heads of the six drooped listlessly and their hands fell languidly +to their sides; their eyes closed. + + When I see your white rays beaming, gleaming, streaming. + +The six awoke briskly and commenced to glide around the stage, +describing circles, figures of eight, and other more intricate patterns, +while Bertie swayed his body rhythmically from side to side, his arms +and hands outstretched and palms turned downwards. In this formation +they all repeated the chorus together. + +Bertie now cleared his throat and started on the second verse without +delay. The six stood sideways, their hands in their trousers pockets and +their faces turned to the audience. + + Oh, moon of dainty grace, + Shine on my loved one's face. + +The footlights were suddenly switched off and each of the six produced a +small electric torch and illuminated his neighbour's features. The +effect was startling. Presently the footlights reappeared as abruptly as +they had vanished and the torches were extinguished. + + Upon the hill + The night is still. + +Again there was a short pause, during which the six breathed lightly +through their teeth, producing a faint and long-drawn +_sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh_. + + Oh come, my love, together let us haste. + +The six ceased sh-sh-ing and gracefully invited one another to haste. + + Away, away, we'll roam + To seek our fairy home, + While the silver moon illuminates the place. + +The six placed both hands on their breasts and stood with bowed heads, +motionless except for a continuous and rhythmic bending of the knees, +while Bertie sang the chorus softly, lingeringly. Then, stretching out +their arms, they swayed their bodies from side to side as their leader +had previously done, while Bertie himself drifted in and out between +them, and all rendered the chorus for the second time. + + Moon, moon, moon, + We'll come soon, soon. + Across the hills while all the world is dreaming. + Moon, moon, moon, + I want to swoon, swoon, + When I see your white rays beaming, gleaming, streaming. + +There was a moment's emotional silence, broken by a thunder of rapturous +applause. The Song Scena, all too short, was finished. + +Anxious not to risk spoiling the impression, I arose and left hastily +before the next turn. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _She._ "HERBERT, I CAN'T FIND MY BATHING-DRESS ANYWHERE!" + +_He._ "SEE IF YOU'VE GOT IT ON." + + * * * * * + + "Young M'Pherson, the Blackford jumper, is anxious to fix up a match + for a long jump with anybody in Scotland. A week ago he did 5-1/2 + ft., but he asserts he can beat this hollow if called upon." + + _Edinburgh Evening News._ + +If M'PHERSON will say just how young he is, we will find a suitable +nephew to take him on. Tommy (aged eight) did 6 ft. 1 in. yesterday, but +asserts that he slipped. + + * * * * * + +A MIDSUMMER MADNESS. + +The girl who shared Herbert's meringue at dinner (a brittle one, which +exploded just as he was getting into it) was kind and tactful. + +"It doesn't matter a bit," she said, removing fragments of shell from +her lap; and, to put him at his ease again, went on, "Are you interested +in little problems at all?" + +Herbert, who would have been interested even in a photograph album just +then, emerged from his apologies and swore that he was. + +"We're all worrying about one which Father saw in a paper. I do wish you +could solve it for us. It goes like this." And she proceeded to explain +it. Herbert decided that the small piece of meringue still in her hair +was not worth mentioning and listened to her with interest. + +On the next morning I happened to drop in at Herbert's office.... And +that, in short, is how I was mixed up in the business. + +"Look here," said Herbert, "you used to be mathematical; here's +something for you." + +"Let the dead past bury its dead," I implored. "I am now quite +respectable." + +"It goes like this," he said, ignoring my appeal. + +He then gave me the problem, which I hand on to you. + +"A subaltern riding at the rear of a column of soldiers trotted up to +the captain in front and challenged him to a game of billiards for +half-a-crown a side, the loser to pay for the table. Having lost, he +played another hundred, double or quits, and then rode back, the column +by this time having travelled twice its own length, and a distance equal +to the distance it would have travelled if it had been going in the +other direction. What was the captain's name?" + +Perhaps I have not got it quite right, for I have had an eventful week +since then; or perhaps Herbert didn't get it quite right; or perhaps the +girl with the meringue in her hair didn't get it quite right; but +anyhow, that was the idea of it. + +"And the answer," said Herbert, "ought to be 'four cows,' but I keep on +making it 'eight and tuppence.' Just have a shot at it, there's a good +fellow. I promised the girl, you know." + +I sat down, worked it out hastily on the back of an envelope, and made +it a yard and a half. + +"No," said Herbert; "I know it's 'four cows,' but I can't get it." + +"Sorry," I said, "how stupid of me; I left out the table-money." + +I did it hastily again and made it three minutes twenty-five seconds. + +"It _is_ difficult, isn't it?" said Herbert. "I thought, as you used to +be mathematical and as I'd promised the girl----" + +"Wait a moment," I said, still busy with my envelope. "I forgot the +subaltern. Ah, that's right. The answer is a hundred and twenty-five +men.... No, that's wrong--I never doubled the half-crown. Er--oh, look +here, Herbert, I'm rather busy this morning. I'll send it to you." + +"Right," said Herbert. "I know I can depend on you, because you're +mathematical." And he opened the door for me. + +I had meant to do a very important piece of work that day, but I +couldn't get my mind off Herbert's wretched problem. Happening to see +Carey at tea-time, I mentioned it to him. + +"Ah," said Carey profoundly. "H'm. Have you tried it with an '_x_'?" + +"Of course." + +"Yes, it looks as though it wants a bit of an '_x_' somewhere. You stick +to it with an '_x_' and you ought to do it. Let '_x_' be the +subaltern--that's the way. I say, I didn't know you were interested in +problems." + +"Well----" + +"Because I've got rather a tricky chess problem here I can't do." He +produced his pocket chess-board. "White mates in four moves." + +I looked at it carelessly. Black had only left himself with a Pawn and a +King, while White had seen to it that he had a Queen and a couple of +Knights about. Now, I know very little about chess, but I do understand +the theory of chess problems. + +"Have you tried letting the Queen be taken by Black's pawn, then +sacrificing the Knights, and finally mating him with the King alone?" + +"Yes," said Carey. + +Then I was baffled. If one can't solve a chess problem by starting off +with the most unlikely-looking thing on the board, one can't solve it at +all. However, I copied down the position and said I'd glance at it.... +At eleven that night I rose from my glance, decided that Herbert's +problem was the more immediately pressing, and took it to bed with me. + +I was lunching with William next day, and I told him about the +subaltern. He dashed at it lightheartedly and made the answer seventeen. + +"Seventeen what?" I said. + +"Well, whatever we're talking about. I think you'll find it's seventeen +all right. But look here, my son, here's a golf problem for you. A. is +playing B. At the fifth hole A. falls off the tee into a pond----" + +I forget how it went on. + +When I got home to dinner, after a hard day with the subaltern, I found +a letter from Norah waiting for me. + +"I hear from Mr. Carey," she wrote, "that you're keen on problems. +Here's one I have cut out of our local paper. Do have a shot at it. The +answer ought to be eight miles an hour." + +Luckily, however, she forgot to enclose the problem. For by this time, +what with Herbert's subaltern, Carey's pawn, and a cistern left me by an +uncle who was dining with us that night, I had more than enough to +distract me. + +And so the business has gone on. The news that I am preparing a +collection of interesting and tricky problems for a new _Encylopædia_ +has got about among my friends. Everybody who writes to me tells me of a +relation of his who has been shearing sheep or rowing against the stream +or dealing himself four aces. People who come to tea borrow a box of +wooden matches and beg me to remove one match and leave a perfect +square. I am asked to do absurd things with pennies.... + +Meanwhile Herbert has forgotten both the problem and the girl. Three +evenings later he shared his Hollandaise sauce with somebody in yellow +(as luck would have it) and she changed the subject by wondering if he +read DICKENS. He is now going manfully through _Bleak House_--a chapter +a night--and when he came to visit me to-day he asked me if I had ever +heard of the man. + +However I was not angry with him, for I had just made it come to "three +cows." It is a cow short, but it is nearer than I have ever been before, +and I think I shall leave it at that. Indeed, both the doctor and the +nurse say that I had better leave it at that. + + A. A. M. + + * * * * * + +A SEASONABLE BEVERAGE. + + Great charm hath tea--some fragrant blend; + Sipped with a fair and festive friend; + + And even milk hath flavour, too, + When sun-kissed milkmaids hand it you. + + Beer, in a large resounding can, + Befits a coarser type of man, + + While some rejoice in spirit pure, + And others in a faked liqueur. + + But none of these, nor any wine, + Hath present claim to praise of mine, + + Hath e'er produced the gasp and thrill + Of that incomparable swill + + When first, from care and toil set free, + I plunge into the summer sea + And bring a mouthful back with me. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE ANNUAL PROBLEM. + +_Showing how helpfully the hoardings distinguish between the +characteristic features of various localities._ + + * * * * * + +Illustration: A LONG-FELT WANT. + +THE SOCIETY FOR THE PREVENTION OF CRUELTY TO MOTOR-CYCLES. + + * * * * * + +POLITICS AT THE ZOO. + +Lord ROBERT CECIL'S comparison of the occupants of the Treasury Bench to +the monkeys at the Zoo has caused considerable excitement in Regent's +Park, and one of _Mr. Punch's_ representatives, assisted by an +interpreter, has taken the opportunity to sound some of the principal +inmates on the subject. + +In the Simian section a certain amount of regret was expressed that Lord +ROBERT had not been more explicit in his comparison. Did he refer to +chimpanzees, baboons, gorillas or other species? But when all allowance +was made for this lack of precision the general impression was one of +satisfaction that a leading politician should have frankly admitted that +monkeys possessed qualities which entitled their human possessors to +high office and handsome salaries. It was felt that this admission +marked a great advance on all previous concessions to the claims of the +Simian community, and pointed irresistibly to the ultimate +grant--already long overdue--of Monkey Franchise throughout the Empire. + +Baboons, it was well known, were already employed as railway porters in +Cape Colony, and chimpanzees had of late years appeared with great +success at some of the leading music-halls. In view of these facts the +further delay of the suffrage could no longer be justified. At present +we were confronted with the gross anomaly that a tailor, who was +admitted to be only the ninth part of a man, was given a vote, while the +monkey, man's ancestor, was denied even the fraction which was all that +a tailor deserved. + +These views however were not shared by other _genera_ domiciled at the +Zoological Gardens. One of the oldest lions observed in a strepitous +bass that it was a great relief to him that his race had not been +degraded by any such comparisons. He had some respect for hunters, but +as for politicians he would not be seen dead with them at a pig fair. +Asked whether he had read Mr. RAMSAY MACDONALD'S account of his +lion-hunting exploits, in _The Daily Chronicle_, he professed ignorance +and even indifference. Speaking as an aristocrat he thought that a +Labour leader was not worthy to twist his tail. As for the conduct of +Mr. BERNARD SHAW in bringing lions on the stage, he thought it little +short of an outrage for an anæmic vegetarian to take liberties with the +king of the carnivora. + +Considerable resentment was shown in the Ursine encampment at Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE'S somewhat disparaging reference to the bear's hug. (It will be +remembered that he compared with it the attitude of the Tories in +respect of the Finance Bill.) The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER evidently +regarded it as an insincere caress, whereas it was a perfectly honest +expression of hostility. This attack was all the more unjust and +undeserved since the bear was a most hardworking and underpaid member of +the community. When a politician reached the top of the poll he got £400 +a year. When a bear did the same he only got a penny bun. + +A conversation with a leading representative of the colony of Penguins +revealed the interesting fact that they were incapable of appreciating +our Parliamentary procedure owing to their hereditary inability to sit +down. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Mr. Punch's_ HOLIDAY PAGES. + + * * * * * + +THE PRIMA DONNA. + +[_The repertoire of Summer is here made to embrace the prelude of many +good things that come within the wider scope of the holiday season._] + + Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, we crave your kind attention! + Here's Summer, at your service (till you bid the lady stop); + Good gentlemen, she's songs for you--'tis time to drop dissension; + 'Tis time to cut the cackle and to close awhile the shop; + For stags shall be in Badenoch, and Kent hath twined the hop. + + Yes, songs for every son o' you, and all have silver linings! + Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, it's close, your London air; + If I'm mixing up the proverbs, 'tis because my roads run shining + Through the fret of far-off pine-woods, and I'm wishful to be there; + Or at hand among the hop-poles when the vines are trailing fair. + + Good gentlemen, the prologue! Here's a programme most attractive: + She's songs for everyone o' you--oh, rare the tunes and rich! + Here's hackneyed _Devon Harbours_ (but the pollock's biting active); + Here's _Evening_ (rise in Hampshire); here's _The Roller on the Pitch_; + And music in the lot o' them--it doesn't matter which. + + We've long _White Roads o' Brittany_ and pretty _Wayside Posies_, + _Blue Bays_ (beneath the undercliff--the white sails crawling by); + We've _Rabbits in a Hedgerow_ (how the bustling Clumber noses); + We've _Grouse Across the Valley_ (crashing crumpled from the sky); + And magic's in each note of her--it doesn't matter why. + + Here's _Salmon Songs_ and _Shrimping Songs_, according to your pocket; + Here's _Hopping_ (with a lurcher--twice as useful as a gun + For the fat young August pheasants that'll never live to rocket); + Here's a jolly _Song o' Golf Balls_; here's the tune of + _Cubs that Run_; + We've something for each Jack o' you, for every mother's son. + + Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, we crave your kind permission! + Here's Summer, at your service, and she'd sing you on your ways + The marching songs of morning and the Road that fits the Vision, + The mellow songs of twilight and the gold September haze; + God rest you all, good gentlemen, and send you pleasant days. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE VOGUE FOR WEARING FANCY DRESS THREATENS TO INVADE +ORDINARY SOCIAL LIFE. + +TENNIS AT THE VICARAGE. + +A JOLLY BATHING PARTY. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: OUR DEAR OLD FRIEND, THE FOREIGN SPY (CUNNINGLY DISGUISED +AS A GOLFER), VISITS OUR YOUNGEST SUBURB ONE SATURDAY AFTERNOON IN QUEST +OF FURTHER EVIDENCE OF OUR LETHARGY, GENERAL DECADENCE AND FALLING +BIRTH-RATE. HE GETS A SHOCK AND AT ONCE TELEGRAPHS TO HIS +COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF URGING THAT THE CONQUEST OF THE BRITISH ISLES BE +UNDERTAKEN BEFORE THE PRESENT GENERATION IS MANY YEARS OLDER. + + * * * * * + +Illustrations: THE INTRUSIONS OF THE CINEMA. + +[Jones, secretary to the South Sea Islanders' Regeneration Society, who +is suffering from nerves, is recommended a very remote sea-coast retreat +for his summer holiday. With his wife and family he tries it. The +manager of a certain cinema company likewise chooses this particular +spot for his company to rehearse their powerful new drama, "Down among +the Dead Men."] + +_Miss Jones._ "WAKE UP, DAD, WE'RE GOING TO BATHE." + + +_First Act of the Drama._--AFTER THE WRECK: DESMOND AND ROSEMARY WASHED +ASHORE ON THE CANNIBAL ISLAND. + + * * * + +_Jones (to the rescue)._ "DEVILS! FIENDS! UNTIE THAT WHITE MAN!" + + * * * + +_The Cinema Manager explains._ "SORRY TO HAVE CAUSED YOU ANY +INCONVENIENCE, SIR--MERELY REHEARSING 'DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN'--DAM +FINE DRAMA, SIR--WE PRODUCE SAME AT THE OPERA 'OUSE, CROYDON, ON THE +16TH." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Surf-rider._ "I'M ALMOST SURE THIS ISN'T A BIT THE WAY +IT'S DONE IN THOSE ILLUSTRATED PAPERS!" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Early Tripper._ "MAKES YER FEEL LIKE OLE NAPOLEON AT +WHAT'S-ITS-NAME!" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: APT NOMENCLATURE IN OUR GARDEN SUBURB. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _The Captain._ "THE BLOOMIN' VICE-PRESIDENT'S FORGOT THE +STUMPS. YOUNG BILL 'ERE BETTER BE THE WICKET--'E WANTS TO PLAY AND 'E'S +TOO LITTLE TO BAT AGIN SWIFT BOWLIN'!" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Native_ (_having seen his rival tipped by guileless +visitor_). "'E'S SWINDLED YER, SIR. I'M THE OLDEST +INHABITANT--NINETY-FOUR COME SUNDAY THREE WEEKS. 'E'S ONLY A YOUNGSTER +OF EIGHTY-TWO." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: EVEN IN HIS PLAY THE SCIENTIST'S CHILD IS SCIENTIFIC. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE POLITICAL JUNGLE. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: A FULL JOY-DAY. + +How an energetic visitor contrived to sample nearly all the attractions +of Worplethorpe-on-Sea (as advertised by the municipality) in the course +of a one-day's trip. + +_9 to 10.30 A.M._--BATHING AND FISHING. + +_10.30 A.M. to 12 (noon)._--SHOOTING AND CYCLING. + +_12 to 1.30 P.M._--TENNIS AND BOTANY. + +_3 to 4.30 P.M._--CROQUET AND ARCHÆOLOGY. + +_4.30 to 6 P.M._--GOLF AND GEOLOGY. + +_6 to 7.30 P.M._--SKETCHING AND DONKEY-RIDING. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: RACE-COURSE OF THE NEAR FUTURE, SUFFRAGETTE-PROOF. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: SMITH, WHO ALWAYS WEARS THE NATIVE COSTUME WHEN FISHING +IN THE HIGHLANDS (HIS GREAT-GRAND-AUNT'S STEP-FATHER HAVING BEEN A +McGREGOR) FINDS THE MIDGES SOMEWHAT TROUBLESOME. A LITTLE INGENUITY +HOWEVER OVERCOMES THE DIFFICULTY. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE "SPASMO" CANOELET. + +IT IS A RELUCTANT STARTER. + +WHEN IT _DOES_ START, IT STARTS. + +IT LAUGHS AT LOCKS. + +IT ENDS AS A HYDRO-AEROPLANE. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE EMANCIPATION OF THE EAST. + +THE GRAND VIZIER, A MASTER OF POLYGAMY, REGRETS THE VOGUE OF THE CINEMA +AS AN EDUCATIVE FORCE. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: LUNCH "SCORES." + + * * * * * + +COMPLAINTS ARE HEARD FROM HOLIDAY-MAKERS ON THEIR RETURN THAT THE +HOLIDAY HAS FAILED TO BENEFIT THEM. THIS IS DUE TO LACK OF PREPARATORY +TRAINING AT HOME. + +Illustration: HARDEN THE FEET FOR BEACH-WALKING. + +Illustration: ACCUSTOM THE LUNGS TO MARINE AROMAS. + +Illustration: PREPARE TO RECEIVE THE BUFFETINGS OF NEPTUNE. + +Illustration: TOUGHEN THE INTERIOR FOR A LODGING-HOUSE DIET. + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S HOLIDAY FILM. + + [Having had the good fortune to pick up for a mere song (or, to be + more accurate, for a few notes) several thousand miles of discarded + cinema films from a bankrupt company, _Mr. Punch_ is gumming the + best bits together and presenting them during the holiday season on + the piers of many of our fashionable watering-places, such as + Bayswater, Hackney Marshes and Ponder's End. The films comprise the + well-known "Baresark Basil, the Pride of the Ranch" (two miles + long), "The Foiler Foiled" (one mile, three furlongs, two rods, + poles or perches), "The Blood-stained Vest" (fragment--eighteen + inches), "A Maniac's Revenge" (5,000 feet), "The Life of the Common + Mosquito" (six legs), and so forth. An accomplished writer has been + chosen to weave a connected story round the selected parts of the + films, and his scenario of _Mr. Punch's_ great picture play, when + finally gummed together, is given below. The illustrations depict a + few representative incidents in the story--taken from the + sketch-book of an artist who was present when the films were first + being prepared.] + +Twenty-five years before our film opens, Andrew Bellingham, a young man +just about to enter his father's business, was spending a holiday in a +little fishing village in Cornwall. The daughter of the sheep-farmer +with whom he lodged was a girl of singular beauty, and Andrew's youthful +blood was quickly stirred to admiration. Carried away by his passion for +her, he-- + + [MANAGER OF PUNCH FILM COMPANY. _Just a reminder that MR. REDFORD + has to pass this before it can be produced._] + +--he married her-- + + [MANAGER. _Oh, I beg pardon._] + +--and for some weeks they lived happily together. One day he informed +Jessie that he would have to go back to his work in London, and that it +might be a year or more before he could acknowledge her openly as his +wife to his rich and proud parents. Jessie was prostrated with grief; +and late that afternoon her hat and fringe-net were discovered by the +edge of the waters. Realising at once that she must have drowned herself +in her distress, Andrew took an affecting farewell of her father and the +sheep, and returned to London. A year later he married a distant cousin, +and soon rose to a condition of prosperity. At the time our film begins +to unwind, he was respected by everybody in the City, a widower, and the +father of a beautiful girl of eighteen, called Hyacinth. + + [MANAGER. _Now we're off. What do we start with?_] + +I. + +On the sunny side of Fenchurch Street-- + + [MANAGER. _Ah, then I suppose we'd better keep back the Rescue from + the Alligator and the Plunge down Niagara in a Barrel._] + +--Andrew Bellingham was dozing in his office. Suddenly he awoke to find +a strange man standing over him. + +"Who are you?" asked Mr. Bellingham. "What do you want?" + +"My name is Jasper," was the answer, "and I have some information to +give you." He bent down and hissed, "_Your first wife is still alive!_" + +Andrew started up in obvious horror. "My daughter," he gasped, "my +little Hyacinth! She must never know." + +"Listen. Your wife is in Spain-- + + [MANAGER. _Don't waste her. Make it somewhere where there are + sharks._ + + AUTHOR. _It's all right, she's dead really._] + +--and she will not trouble you. Give me a thousand pounds, and you shall +have these;" and he held out a packet containing the marriage +certificate, a photograph of Jessie's father dipping a sheep, a +receipted bill for a pair of white gloves, size 9-1/2, two letters +signed "Your own loving little Andy Pandy", and a peppermint with "Jess" +on it in pink. "Once these are locked up in your safe, no one need never +know that you were married in Cornwall twenty-five years ago." + +Without a moment's hesitation Mr. Bellingham took a handful of +bank-notes from his pocket-book, and the exchange was made. At all costs +he must preserve his little Hyacinth from shame. Now she need never +know. With a forced smile he bowed Jasper out, placed the packet in his +safe and returned to his desk. + +Illustration: The Theft. + +But his mysterious visitor was not done with yet. As soon as the door +had closed behind him Jasper re-entered softly, drugged Andrew hastily, +and took possession again of the compromising documents. By the time Mr. +Bellingham had regained his senses the thief was away. A hue-and-cry was +raised, police whistles were blown, and Richard Harrington, Mr. +Bellingham's private secretary, was smartly arrested. + +At the trial things looked black against Richard. He was poor and he +was in love with Hyacinth; the chain of evidence was complete. In spite +of his impassioned protest from the dock, in spite of Hyacinth's +dramatic swoon in front of the solicitors' table, the judge with great +solemnity passed sentence of twenty years' penal servitude. A loud +"Hear, hear" from the gallery rang through the court, and, looking up, +Mr. Bellingham caught the sardonic eye of the mysterious Jasper. + +II. + +Richard had been in prison a month before the opportunity for his escape +occurred. For a month he had been hewing stone in Portland, black +despair at his heart. Then, like lightning, he saw his chance and took +it. The warders were off guard for a moment. Hastily lifting his +pickaxe---- + + [MANAGER. _Sorry, but it's a spade in the only prison film we've + got._] + +Hastily borrowing a spade from a comrade who was digging potatoes, he +struck several of his gaolers down, and, dodging the shots of others who +hurried to the scene, he climbed the prison wall and dashed for freedom. + +Illustration: The Escape. + +Reaching Weymouth at nightfall, he made his way to the house which +Hyacinth had taken in order to be near him, and, suitably disguised, +travelled up to London with her in the powerful motor which she had kept +ready. "At last, my love, we are together," he murmured as they neared +Wimbledon. But he had spoken a moment too soon. An aeroplane swooped +down upon them, and Hyacinth was snatched from his arms and disappeared +with her captors into the clouds. + +Illustration: The Abduction. + +III. + +Richard's first act on arriving in London was to go to Mr. Bellingham's +house. Andrew was out, but a note lying on his study carpet, "_Meet me +at the Old Windmill to-night_," gave him a clue. On receipt of this note +Andrew had gone to the _rendezvous_, and it was no surprise to him when +Jasper stepped out and offered to sell him a packet containing a +marriage certificate, a photograph of an old gentleman dipping a sheep, +a peppermint lozenge with "Jess" on it, and various other documents for +a thousand pounds. + +"You villain," cried Andrew, "even at the trial I suspected you," and he +rushed at him fiercely. + +A desperate struggle ensued. Breaking free for a moment from the +vice-like grip of the other, Jasper leapt with the spring of a panther +at one of the sails of the windmill as it came round, and was whirled +upwards; with the spring of another panther, Andrew leapt on to the next +sail and was whirled after him. At that moment the wind dropped, and the +combatants were suspended in mid-air. + +Illustration: The Duel at the Mill. + +It was upon this terrible scene that Richard arrived. Already a crowd +was collecting; and, though at present it did not seem greatly alarmed, +feeling convinced that it was only assisting at another cinematograph +rehearsal, its suspicions might at any moment be aroused. With a shout, +he dashed into the mill. Seeing him coming Jasper dropped his revolver +and slid down the sail into the window. In a moment he reappeared at the +door of the mill with Hyacinth under his arm. "Stop him!" cried Richard +from underneath a sack of flour. It was no good. Jasper had leapt with +his fair burden upon the back of his mustang and was gone.... + +The usual pursuit followed. + +IV. + +It was the gala night at the Royal Circus. Ricardo Harringtoni, the +wonderful new acrobat of whom everybody was talking, stood high above +the crowd on his platform. His marvellous performance on the swinging +horizontal bar was about to begin. Richard Harrington (for it was he) +was troubled. Since he had entered on his new profession--as a disguise +from the police who were still searching for him--he had had a vague +suspicion that the lion-tamer was dogging him. _Who was the lion-tamer?_ +Could it be Jasper? + +At that moment the band struck up and Richard leapt lightly on to the +swinging bar. With a movement full of grace he let go of the bar and +swung on to the opposite platform. And then, even as he was in mid-air, +he realized what was happening. + +Illustration: An Awkward Moment for Richard. + +Jasper had let the lion loose! + +_It was waiting for him._ + +With a gasping cry Ricardo Harrington fainted. + +V. + +When he recovered consciousness, Richard found himself on the S.S. +_Boracic_, which was forging her way through the-- + + [MANAGER.--_Somewhere where there are sharks._] + +--the Indian Ocean. Mr. Bellingham was bathing his forehead with cooling +drinks. + +"Forgive me, my boy," said Mr. Bellingham, "for the wrong I did you. It +was Jasper who stole the compromising documents. He refuses to give them +back unless I let him marry Hyacinth. What can I do?" + +"Where is she?" asked Richard. + +"Hidden away no one knows where. Find her, get back the documents for +me, and she is yours." + +Illustration: The Rescue. [_Inset--the Cinema Shark, 3s. 6d._] + +At that moment a terrible cry rang through the ship; "Man overboard!" +Pushing over Mr. Bellingham and running on deck, Richard saw that a +woman and her baby were battling for life in the shark-infested waters. +In an instant he had plunged in and rescued them. As they were dragged +together up the ship's side he heard her murmur, "Is little Jasper +safe?" + +"Jasper?" cried Richard. + +"Yes, called after his daddy." + +"Where is daddy now?" asked Richard hoarsely. + +"In America." + +"Can't you see the likeness?" whispered Richard to Mr. Bellingham. "It +must be. The villain is married to another. But now I will pursue him +and get back the papers." And he left the boat at the next port and +boarded one for America. + +VI. + +The search through North and South America for Jasper was protracted. +Accompanied sometimes by a band of cowboys, sometimes by a tribe of +Indians, Richard scoured the continent for his enemy. There were hours +when he would rest awhile and amuse himself by watching the antics of +the common mosquito. [MANAGER. _Good!_] or he would lie at full length +and gaze at a bud bursting into flower [MANAGER. _Excellent!_]. Then he +would leap on to his steed and pursue the trail relentlessly once more. + +One night he was dozing by his camp-fire, when he was awakened roughly +by strong arms around his neck and Jasper's hot breath in his ear. + +Illustration: Another Awkward Moment. + +"At last!" cried Jasper, and, knocking Richard heavily on the head with +a boot, he picked up his unconscious enemy and carried him to a +tributary of the Amazon noted for its alligators. Once there he tied him +to a post in mid-stream and rode hastily off to the nearest town, where +he spent the evening witnessing the first half of _The Merchant of +Venice_. [MANAGER. _Splendid!_] But in the morning a surprise awaited +him. As he was proceeding along the top of a lonely cliff he was +confronted suddenly by the enemy whom he had thought to kill. + +"Richard!" he cried, "escaped again!" + +"Now, Jasper, I have you." + +With a triumphant cry they rushed at each other; a terrible contest +ensued; and then Jasper, with one blow of his palm, hurled his adversary +over the precipice. + +Illustration: Over the Precipice. + +VII. + +How many times the two made an end of each other after this the films +will show. Sometimes Jasper sealed Richard in a barrel and pushed him +over Niagara; sometimes Richard tied Jasper to a stake, and set light to +him; sometimes they would both fall out of a balloon together. But the +day of reckoning was at hand. + + [MANAGER. _We've only got the Burning House and the 1913 Derby + left._ + + AUTHOR. _Right._] + +It is the evening of the 3rd of June. A cry rends the air suddenly, +whistles are blowing, there is a rattling of horses' hoofs. "Fire! +Fire!" Richard, who was passing Soho Square at the time, heard the cry +and dashed into the burning house. In a room full of smoke he perceived +a cowering woman. Hyacinth! To pick her up was the work of a moment, but +how shall he save her? Stay! The telegraph wire! His training at the +Royal Circus stood him in good stead. Treading lightly on the swaying +wire he carried Hyacinth across to the house opposite. + +"At last, my love," he breathed. + +"But the papers," she cried. "You must get them, or father will not let +you marry me." + +Once more he treads the rocking wire; once more he re-crosses, with the +papers on his back. Then the house behind him crumbles to the ground, +with the wicked Jasper in its ruins. + +Illustration: Richard Recovers the Letters. + +VIII. + +"Excellent," said Mr. Bellingham at dinner that evening. "Not only are +the papers here, but a full confession by Jasper. My first wife was +drowned all the time; he stole the documents from her father. Richard, +my boy, when the Home Secretary knows everything he will give you a free +pardon. And then you can marry my daughter." + +At these words Hyacinth and Richard were locked in a close embrace. On +the next day they all went to the Derby together. + + A. A. M. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: A MASTERPIECE IN THE MAKING. + +LORD LANSDOWNE (_Art Dealer, to Mr. ASQUITH_). "YES, I QUITE SEE YOUR +IDEA--A FIGURE OF PEACE; BUT, SINCE YOU INVITE SUGGESTIONS FROM ME, I +SHOULD SAY THAT THE ADDITION OF A FEW RECOGNISABLE SYMBOLS, SUCH AS A +PAIR OF WINGS, OR A DOVE, OR AN OLIVE-BRANCH, MIGHT HELP TO MAKE IT +CORRESPOND MORE CLEARLY WITH MY PUBLIC'S NOTION OF THE GODDESS IN +QUESTION." + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +(EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.) + +_House of Commons, Monday, June 29._--Curious how the Labour Party, who +the other day, joining hands with the Conservatives, nearly threw the +Government out, lead the way in sartorial fashion. Since DON'T KEIR +HARDIE, home from the storied East, presented himself in a reach-me-down +suit of white drill such as is worn aboard ship in the Red Sea, nothing +has created such sensation as the dropping in this afternoon of Mr. +HODGE, arrayed in a summer suit. It was not, as some might have +expected, the simple garment of the elder branch of his honourable +family. No. It was not a smock such as FRANK LOCKWOOD pictured BOBBY +SPENCER wearing when he made his historic declaration, "I am not an +agricultural labourer." HODGE (Gorton Div., Lancs., Lab.), as _The +Times'_ parliamentary report has it, burst upon the attention of a +crowded House at Question-time got up in wondrous garment, white in the +foundation of colour, but relieved from the crude hardness of DON'T KEIR +HARDIE'S suit by what suggested dexterous process of patting and lightly +smearing with a mustard-spoon. A Trilby hat crowned and accentuated +this creation. + +As the vision crossed the Bar Members sat silent, gazing upon it with +lips slightly parted. Similarly, upon a peak in Darien, stout CORTEZ +stared at the Pacific. + +Silence was broken by a burst of hearty cheering, in which the keen ear +detected a slightly discordant note. Whilst Members were frankly +disposed to applaud the boldness of what I believe purveyors of new +models of female dress call the "confection," whilst they were lost in +admiration of its effect, there was a feeling of disappointment that +they had not thought of it themselves, and been the first to enter the +field. + +Thanks to the genius of FRANK LOCKWOOD a former House was able to +realise the figure presented by the present. Earl SPENCER, whilst still +with us in the Commons, skipping along in the purity of a Monday morning +smock, carrying in his right hand a garlanded pitchfork. What the +present House, jaded with a succession of Budgets and the persistence of +the Ulster question, would like to see is the entrance of those twin +brethren, Lord CASTLEREAGH and Earl WINTERTON, walking arm-in-arm, +arrayed in garb approaching as nearly as possible that which, thanks to +Mr. HODGE, this afternoon illuminated the Legislative Chamber. + +_Business done._--CHANCELLOR OF EXCHEQUER announced third edition of +Budget. "Before the end of the week," said SARK, "I expect we shall meet +him running up and down the Terrace with hand to widely-opened mouth +shouting "Extry Speshul!" + + * * * + +Illustration: "EXTRY SPESHUL!" + + * * * + +_Tuesday._--AMERY began to think he had escaped consequences of his +little mistake. Nearly a week has sped since he called attention to +indiscretion of Captain BELLINGHAM, _aide-de-camp_ to the +LORD-LIEUTENANT, who, reviewing small body of Nationalist volunteers, +enjoined them to stand fast by cause of Home Rule. From answer of CHIEF +SECRETARY it appeared that Member for South Birmingham had been +forestalled by Lord ABERDEEN, who had called upon the Captain for +explanation and received suitable apology for the error. + +Irish Members quick to see opening innocently made for them. Having long +regarded with resentment Lord LONDONDERRY'S active patronage of +movements of Ulster volunteers, have sedulously sought opportunity of +bringing it under notice of House. AMERY obligingly provided it. +Unexpected delay in seizing it was due to search for particulars now +presented in form of question addressed to PREMIER, citing with dates +and places six separate occasions when the _aide-de-camp_ to the KING +had, by his presence and counsel, sanctioned reviews of Ulster +volunteers, "whose avowed object," as the question put it, "is, in event +of enactment of Home Rule Bill, to resist by armed force the authority +of the Crown and Parliament, and to make the administration of the law +impossible." What Mr. DEVLIN, with studied politeness, was anxious to +know was "whether there is any special reason why in this matter the +Marquis of LONDONDERRY should be treated differently from Captain +BELLINGHAM?" + +PREMIER not to be drawn into the controversy. Duties of _aide-de-camp_ +to the KING, unlike those of _aide-de-camp_ to LORD-LIEUTENANT, are, he +said, of entirely honorary character. In such circumstances he did not +think it worth while to take notice of the matter. + +Effect of the reply designedly chilling; object of question attained by +publicly submitting it. AMERY "wishes he hadn't spoke." + +The PREMIER'S imperturbability stood him in even greater stead at later +proceedings. On going into Committee of Supply, HOPE of Sheffield moved +reduction of his salary on account of alleged failure to take necessary +steps to maintain high standard of single-minded disinterestedness in +public service. Though nominally concerned with the PREMIER and the +public service HOPE told a flattering tale which was a thinly veiled +attack on that meek personage the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER. + +ARCHER-SHEE, who followed, was less circuitous in his retrograde march +on old Marconi quarters. Soon had Committee in state of uproar vainly +combated by those champions of order, WINTERTON, ARTHUR MARKHAM and +SWIFT MACNEILL. WINTERTON, whilst constitutionally forceful, was +irresistibly irrelevant. Member for Pontefract venturing to offer an +observation, WINTERTON shouted, "Order, pigeons!" + +Of course there were no pigeons about. An active mind, quick to seize a +point, had harked back to DICK TURPIN BOOTH'S ride to Yorkshire in a +race with carrier pigeons. + +MARKHAM denounced ARCHER-SHEE for delivering "a low attack that could +not be answered." Accusation summarised by other Members with yell of +"Coward!" + +As for SWIFT MACNEILL, ARCHER-SHEE presuming to rise simultaneously with +one of his many upgettings, he turned upon him and roared, "Sit down, +Sir!" Gallant Major so terrified that he incontinently fell back in his +seat. + +To general discussion Members from various quarters of House contributed +the observations, "Dirty lies!" "Coward!" "Caddish!" "Unspeakably low!" +"Shut up!" Only for coolness, courage and prompt decision of WHITLEY in +the Chair discreditable scene would have worthily taken its place among +others that smirch pages of Parliamentary record. Having occupied two +hours of time assumed to be valuable it died out from sheer exhaustion. +On division what was avowedly vote of censure on PREMIER negatived by +majority of 152. + +_Business done._--Summer storm in Committee of Supply. + + * * * + +Illustration: _Lord MORLEY._"Thanks, I won't trouble you; I still +have a crust left." + +["The noble marquis seemed to regard the Government as a shipwrecked +mariner--I presume a pirate. If I am a pirate he is the last man to whom +I should think of applying for aid, unless the distress was dire +indeed." + +_Lord MORLEY._] + + * * * + +_House of Lords, Thursday._--Second night of debate on Amending Bill to +modify a measure not yet enacted. House crowded, evidently weighed down +by a sense of direct responsibility at grave crisis. _Le brave_ +WILLOUGHBY DE BROKE has no patience with attitude of noble lords on +Front Opposition Bench. Is congenitally prone to take a short way with +dissenters. Came to the fore five years ago, when what HALDANE called +LLOYD GEORGE'S first great Budget (eclipsed by his second) fell like a +bomb in the Parliamentary arena. Whilst elder peers were disposed to +temporise in view of constitutional difficulty, WILLOUGHBY had only +three words to say--"Throw it out!"--MILNER adding a fearless remark +about the consequences whose emphasis has been excelled only by Mrs. +PATRICK CAMPBELL in _Pygmalion_. So the Budget was shattered on the rock +of the House of Lords, and in swift reprisal with it went the supremacy +of that ancient institution. + +Less effectual in his resistance to the Parliament Act which promptly +followed, DE BROKE is insistent upon treating the Amending Bill as the +Budget of 1909 was treated. Has moved its rejection and, in spite of +HALSBURY, threatens to go to a division. + +Meanwhile LANSDOWNE, in weighty speech worthy great occasion, announces +intention of voting for Second Reading of Bill, with intent to amend it +in Committee. Originally planned that division should be taken to-night. +So many peers have something to say that it is postponed till Monday. + +_Business done._--Debate on Amending (Home Rule) Bill continued. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE "FRESH AIR FUND": AN APPRECIATION. + +"THERE, NOW, AIN'T THAT A TREAT, BILLY? THERE AIN'T NO COUNTRY IN THE +WORLD I LIKE SO MUCH AS ENGLAND." + + * * * * * + +THE NEW PROFESSIONAL HUMILITY. + + ["I have always held a decided opinion that the less people trouble + themselves about literature the better for them."--_M. PIERRE LOTI_ + (vide "_Daily Chronicle._")] + +_Sir THOMAS LIPTON._ How can a tea-drinking people hope to lift the Cup? +Tannin is a poison fatal to the true sportsman. + +_The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER._ The interest taken in politics +diverts attention from everything that really matters. + +_The POET LAUREATE._ Poetry is not only a drug on the market, it is a +drug that narcotises and debilitates all true manhood. + +_Mr. EUSTACE H. MILES._ Vegetarianism is fit only for pigs. The noble +king of the forest is a meat-eater. + +_Lord ROBERTS._ The military bias is the only obstacle to peace. + +_Mme. CLARA BUTT._ The human voice was given us for fish-hawking and +encouraging football-players, not for singing. + +_Sir H. BEERBOHM TREE._ I cannot think why anyone goes to the theatre. +It bores me horribly. + +_Mr. H. G. WELLS._ The past alone possesses interest for intelligent +men. + +_Mr. G. K. CHESTERTON._ Orthodoxy, it has been said, is my doxy; +heterodoxy is other people's doxy; but paradoxy is the devil's doxy. + +_Sir E. ELGAR._ Music? How can any serious man fiddle while Home is +burning? + +_Sir E. J. POYNTER._ The Royal Academy is crushing the life out of +English Art. The country's only hope is in Cubism. + +_Signor MARINETTI._ Your Royal Academy is the true Temple of Art. I +never cross its threshold without first removing my sandals. + + * * * * * + +A RECORD CAST. + + "A 3 lb. 15 oz. chub has been taken at Abingdon by Mr. A. Owen near + Henley." + + _Field._ + + * * * * * + +Illustration: WHY SHOULD NOT PERSEVERING PETER OF THE PUSH-BIKE ADOPT, +WHEN TRAVELLING, THE SAME SUPERCILIOUS ATTITUDE AS LANGUID LIONEL OF THE +TOURING-CAR DE LUXE. + + * * * * * + +THE JESTING OF JANE. + +(_In which it is explained how competent I am to keep the servants in +their places even when their mistress is away._) + + I like a good practical joke; as the garland adorning + The hair of a maiden it shines, as the balm that is shed + On the brain of a wandering minstrel; it comes without warning, + Transmuting to gold an existence that once was as lead. + It glads, it rejoices the soul; recollecting it after + One well-nigh explodes; but I say there are seasons for laughter, + And, like other great men, I am not at my best in the morning + When just out of bed. + + So it was that last week, when the pitiless glare of Apollo + Was toasting the lawn till it looked like a segment of mat, + When I came to my breakfast at length from a lingering wallow + In a bath that professed to be cold--as I moodily sat + And observed how the heat on the pavements was momently doubling, + And hated the coffee for looking so brown and so bubbling, + And hated my paper, which seemed to expect me to follow + A prize-fight (my hat!)-- + + When I heard a great noise as though heaven was breaking asunder, + And "Thanks be to glory," said I, "for this merciful dole; + The rain! the beneficent rain! Will it lighten, I wonder? + I need not pack up, after all, for my cruise to the Pole;" + And my spirits revived and my appetite seemed to awaken, + And I said so to Jane as she brought in the kidneys and bacon; + I was vexed when she answered me pertly, "Why, that isn't thunder; + We're taking in coal!" + + I say there _are_ limits. The girl may be decent and sunny, + Industrious, sober and what not; I don't care a bit; + But she hasn't a right on a day such as that to be funny, + With the glass at 120, confound her, the chit! + I refuse to submit to the whimsical wheeze of a servant + Just because Araminta's away and the weather is fervent, + So I said to her, "Wench, do you fancy you're taking my money + For work or for wit? + + "What are parlourmaids coming to now with their insolent banter? + Command those uproarious ruffians to hop it, to _trek_ + And fetch me a siphon or two and the whisky decanter; + Your notions of humour have left me exhausted and weak; + Take the breakfast away; disappointment has vanquished my hunger, + And afterwards go out at once to the nearest fishmonger + And order two cart-loads of icebergs. Obey me _instanter_, + Or leave in a week." + + EVOE. + + * * * * * + +"Although weighing over 13 tons, Glendinning declares that an +aircraft built from his designs could sail round the world without the +slightest danger of calamity."--_Glasgow Herald._ + +Subject for Silly Season--Should Stout Men Boast? + + * * * * * + +RUBBING IT IN. + + [_The following article appears to have been intended for a popular + Halfpenny Daily, but as it has been sent to us we feel entitled to + print it._] + +TERRIFIC STRUGGLE. + +MR. LOWLY DEFEATS MR. GORMAN CRAWL. + +HOW I DID IT. BY FERDINAND LOWLY. + +Mr. Gorman Crawl's efforts to avoid defeat in his match with me in the +semi-finals of the Dartmoor and West Dorset Championship was, I think, +the finest exhibition of Lawn Tennis that has been seen for many a long +day, and I congratulate those who were so fortunate as to witness the +game. In the second set particularly, Mr. Crawl's play exhibited a +consistent accuracy combined with activity of resource and hard hitting +which, so far as I am aware, has rarely been equalled in the history of +the pastime. He frequently returned drives down the side lines and cross +volleys which I have always regarded as untakable, putting me in the +position of having to repeat those strokes several times before I could +make the ace. Even in the third set, Mr. Crawl certainly did not lose +heart, as many might have done; in fact he gained vigour to such an +extent that his play in the last games became not merely impetuous, but +frenzied. Had I not possessed an iron nerve, Mr. Gorman Crawl might have +snatched a game or two; and I feel sorry for my opponent when I recall +that he only made five points in the set, one of which was due to a net +cord stroke, and another to my accidentally treading on a ball. The +final scores, as set forth in the "Stop Press" columns of one of the +evening papers, were as follows:-- + + "Crawl beat Lowly ... 6--0. 6--0. 6--0," + +and if the reader reverses the statement he will know the correct +result. Mr. Gorman Crawl, after an exhibition which stultifies previous +conceptions of what is possible in the way of offensive and defensive +tactics, and which refutes once and for all the leading contentions in +Mr. Wail's monumental work on the game, was beaten by me in three love +sets. + +The game opened by my serving a double fault. I then found that I was +using my Thursday's racket instead of Tuesday's. After a brief recess, +during which, as I am informed, Mr. Gorman Crawl took in his belt one +hole, the game proceeded. I served to my opponent's back hand, but, +contrary to all rules laid down by Mr. Wail, he unexpectedly returned +the ball to _my_ back hand. The result was that I failed to reach it. It +then occurred to me that I ought to make sure I had no gravel in my +shoes. I did this without leaving the court. When I had replaced my +footwear and was preparing to serve again, I saw that Mr. Gorman Crawl +was lying on the ground, apparently asleep. He started up, however, on +the score being called a second time, and the game proceeded. + +Noticing that my opponent was standing a long way back, I now made a +display of hitting the ball hard and then dropped it just over the net. +Mr. Crawl did not notice what was happening till too late, and I not +only took the ace but had the satisfaction of noticing that my opponent +was breathing hard after his fruitless effort to reach the ball. I had, +so to speak, drawn first blood. I repeated the ruse with my next +service. Mr. Crawl, being now on the alert, reached the ball, but was +unable to stop himself, and charged into the net, and the score was +called "thirty all." A third time I brought off a drop serve; the ball +was returned and I then tossed it with an undercut stroke to the base +line. Mr. Crawl ran back, but the ball bounding high and with a strong +break he lost sight of it, and after some intricate manoeuvres, in +which he had the advantage of advice from the crowd, it eventually fell +on his head, and I scored the ace. I had now only to make one point to +reach the game, and I effected this by a high-kicking service that left +my opponent petrified. + +During the set Mr. Crawl gradually got into his game, and, thanks to a +strong instinct of self-preservation, he succeeded in returning, when up +at the net, many of my drives at his chest and head which I had thought +were sure of their mark. His play in the last rally, when the score +stood at "5 games to 0 and 40 love" in my favour, called forth loud +applause, and I had to do all I knew to prevent him winning an ace which +might have resulted in his eventually capturing the game. + +At this point an incident occurred which has been variously reported. +The facts are that, before embarking on the second set, Mr. Gorman Crawl +petitioned the referee that I should be required to remove my tie. The +tie referred to is my well-known tennis tie. It is a Mascot, as I +associate all my successes on the court during the past four years with +this tie. It is a large scarlet bow with vivid green and white spots the +size of halfpenny pieces, arranged astigmatically. Mr. Crawl said the +cravat held his eye and put him off his game, and complained that there +were so many spots in front of him that he did not know which was the +ball. I am glad to be able to add the testimony of such a first string +man as Mr. Gorman Crawl to the merits of the "Lowly Patent Tennis Tie" +(Registered No. 273125/1911, price _2s. 9d._, of all Gunsmiths and +Sports Outfitters). I explained to the referee that the tie was a +well-known patent and that, if he ruled it out and disqualified the tie, +a promising industry would be irretrievably ruined. The referee +naturally declined to take such a responsibility and ordered the game to +proceed, and we took our places on the course. When, however, I faced +Mr. Crawl I found that he had pulled down the sleeve of his shirt over +his hand and buttoned it round the handle of his racket. The effect was +most disconcerting, for the racket appeared to be part of his body--as +if, in fact, he had two elbow joints, and the face of the bat was the +palm of his hand. Moreover it was impossible to anticipate the direction +of his shots. When forty love had been scored against me I appealed to +the referee. The result of that interview was that M. Gorman Crawl +courteously unbuttoned his sleeve, and I with equal courtesy removed my +tie. The episode was greeted with loud applause, and for my part I felt +amply repaid for the sacrifice I had made by the gain in popularity. + +I have already referred to the strenuous character of Mr. Gorman Crawl's +efforts in this set. The following is the rally for the third ace in the +fifth game, given in the notation invented by Mr. Wail, though not yet +generally adopted. The diagram will be found in the third volume of Mr. +Wail's book, _How to be always right_. + + CRAWL. LOWLY. + + 1. RS to SL2. 1. BR1 to LK5. + 2. LP3 to RT4. 2. KL to LK4. + 3. PK4 to LK5. (Ch.) 4. K × R. + 5. P × K. 5. B × P. + 6. Resigns. + +At the conclusion of the match I shook hands with Mr. Gorman Crawl +across the net before he could leave the court, and loudly congratulated +him on his brilliant struggle. I now have to meet Mr. "U. R. Beete" in +the final round, and if successful my match for the Championship with +Mr. "Y. R. U. Sadd" will be played, weather permitting, on Tuesday at 3 +o'clock, and should be well worth seeing. + + NOTES. + +Mr. Gasp has exchanged the cheese scoop, which is identified with the +championship of South Rutlandshire, for a fish-slice. + +Mr. Bloshclick, who lately won the South-West Devon Singles +Championship at Sidmouth, is not a native of Antananarivo, as has been +stated, but is, we are informed, of Zulu origin. + +We regret to report that Mr. Wail met with an unfortunate accident at +Broadstairs ten days ago. As a spectator at the annual Lawn Tennis +Tournament he was demonstrating to a group of experts the methods which +Mr. Wilding ought properly to employ in making his lifting forehand +drive, when he struck himself a violent blow on the head, partly +severing the right ear. This is the second time Mr. Wail has met with +the accident, but we are glad to hear that he is making a satisfactory +recovery. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Tramp_ (_suddenly appearing at riverside camping +party_). "BEG YER PARDON, GUV'NOR, BUT COULD YER LEND ME A BATHIN' +SUIT?" + + * * * * * + + "Cigarette Makers (Female), round and flat."--_Advt. in "Daily + Chronicle."_ + +Who makes round cigarettes (or flat) should herself be round (or flat) +respectively. + + * * * * * + + "WANTED.--Anything old to do with the Church or Church Services; + preference given to examples with dates or inscriptions." + + _Advt. in "The Challenge."_ + +We were just going to offer our Vicar, but he has no inscription on him. + + * * * * * + +PLATITUDES: THE NEW GAME. + +It is based on "Bromides" and any one can play it. The least educated +has a chance of winning and an Oxford degree is no bar to success--quite +the reverse, in fact; indeed I have known dons.... + +This is how it is played. Two people are seated in easy-chairs, for it +has been found that you cannot be too comfortable for this game; any +discomfort is apt to excite the mind, to disturb the grey matter, to +interfere with that complete repose which is so essential a feature of +the contest. These two are the players. They indulge in small talk and +the smaller talker wins. The object of each player is to make such +inanely conventional remarks that his opponent is reduced to silence. +For example you are sitting next to a bishop, and it falls to you to +start the conversation. Of course you don't say anything like "How sad +about this Kikuyu business." No, you open like this. "Are you fond of +dancing?" you say. The bishop will reply coldly, "It is many years since +I danced." You sigh and murmur, "Ah! the dear old days!" I cannot +imagine what his lordship will say next. + +Of course the conversation in Platitudes must be connected and coherent. +There is no use repeating "Wollah wollah, gollah gollah, ASQUITH must +go, We want eight," or things of that sort. And you must not make mere +blank statements like "The number of cigars annually imported into the +U.S.A. is 26,714,811," unless they can be introduced deftly into the +conversation. + +You must imagine yourself paying a call in a London drawing-room, and +you must say nothing that would not be possible and indeed suitable in +that _milieu_. To attempt to arouse any interest or show any +intelligence is wrong, but then neither must you betray any sign of +actual imbecility. Anything that approaches gibbering cannot be too +strongly condemned. + +The players speak in turn and quotations are not allowed (at least not +from living writers). The question as to whose talk is the smaller of +the two is so much a matter of taste that the game can only be decided +by an umpire or by the votes of the spectators. But there is seldom +much doubt. It is not uncommon for one of the players to break down and +become almost hysterical, and few can hold out long against one of the +champions. Some people allow facial expression and general demeanour to +count, but this I do not recommend. It gives some an unfair advantage, +and I have known it lead to unpleasantness. + +Perhaps a short sample will give a better idea of the game than any +description. I take one from a little tournament in which I competed a +few days ago. I was highly commended, but it was thought I displayed a +little too much intelligence. This is one of the pleasing features of +Platitudes; when one loses, things like that are somehow said, as they +are never said, for instance, at Bridge. From this specimen the beginner +will learn the right style and method. Only by study of the best models +and by constant practice can he attain anything like proficiency. + +_He._ What a world we live in, do we not? (_This is a very common +opening._) + +_She._ Yes, to be sure. Dear, dear! + +_He._ The age is so complex, so full of rush and hurry. Everyone is +running after money, are they not? + +_She._ They are not. I mean they are. + +_He_ (_heaving a sigh_). How sad it is! + +_She_ (_in a tone of gentle correction_). It is deplorable. Did you read +Mr. Goldstein's speech the other day? I thought it so sweet! He said +that the possession of wealth entailed great responsibilities. + +_He._ How like him! (_After a pause_) And how true! Yes, things are in a +bad way. + +_She._ How one deplores these strikes. + +_He_ (_sternly_). They ought to be shot. + +_She._ Too dreadful. I think it is so terrible when quite nice people +are positively inconvenienced. It makes one think of the French +Revolution. + +_He._ Ah! Yes, the French Revolution. Well, well, the good old days are +gone. + +_She._ Yes, they have quite gone. + +_He_ (_sighing heavily_). Dear, dear, dear, dear! May I have some +teacake? + +_She._ Oh do! but I'm afraid they're cold. + +_He._ I like them cold. I think they are so much cooler then. + +_She._ They are a shade less warm. + +[_There was a short interval here when the supporters of each party +gathered round and gave advice and encouragement. The lady seemed as +fresh as a fiddle, but the man was very exhausted and had to have a +spirituous stimulant. After a quarter-of-an-hour's interval the game was +resumed._] + +_She._ Look at the fashionable ladies and their dogs! The sums they +lavish on them! + +_He._ Oh, it's disgraceful. The Government ought to do something. + +_She._ I call it wicked. + +_He_ (_much struck with this_). You are quite right. + +_She._ But mind you, I'm fond of animals myself. + +_He._ Oh, so am I. I dote on dogs. You know, I call the horse a noble +animal--that's what I call the horse. + +_She_ (_after a pause_). I call the camel the ship of the desert. + +_He._ Ah, very witty, very clever. I see you have a sense of humour. +"Ship of the desert"--that's good. + +_She._ Yes, I don't know what I should have done without my sense of +humour. + +_He_ (_sharply_). No more do I. + +_She_ (_confidentially_). You know, I think dogs should be treated _as_ +dogs. They should be kept in their proper places. I like them best in +the country, you know. Don't you? + +_He._ Yes. I think the country is the place for all animals. One sees so +many there--at least in some places. + +_She._ I am so fond of the country. It is so restful. The old oaks and +the buttercups and the village rector and the dear cows. I don't know +what we should do without them. + +_He._ That's what I say. Where would England be without the country? + +_She._ Ah, yes. "Far from the madding crowd," as the poet says. + +_He._ Yes. What a great poet MILTON is, to be sure. + +_She._ Oh, delightful! And don't you like Miss WHEELER WILCOX? + +_He._ Of course--ripping, yes, of course. Her poems of pleasure--her +poems of passion, her--well, in fact, all her poems. + +_She._ Quite. + +At this point the man broke down altogether and began to gibber. But he +recovered in time to see the prize unanimously voted to the lady. This +consisted of a volume of Mr. ----, but perhaps I had better not mention +names; it might be liable to misconstruction. I hope I have said enough +to show what a fascinating and delightful game it is. No appliances are +required (as with dominoes), except one's own nimble brain; and I think +Platitudes will soon sweep the country. Signs are not wanting that +Clumps and Dumb Crambo are already becoming back numbers in the best +circles. + + * * * * * + + "The military dirigible Koerting made the wound in the leg of Baron + de Rothschild. It was found to have flattened itself against the + bone."--_Egyptian Mail._ + +"The Koerting; so it is," said the Baron, when shown the X-ray +photograph of his calf. + + * * * * * + +TOURS IN FACT AND FANCY. + + Tell me not of Western Islands + Or some bonnie loch or ben + Of those hustled haunts, the Highlands; + I'm not going there again. + + Cease from cackling so cocksurely + Of some heavenly woodland dell + Where the pipes of Pan blow purely; + I have sampled these as well. + + Do not harp upon your hollow + Tales of Somewhere-by-the-Sea + Patronised by Ph. Apollo; + 'Tisn't good enough for me. + + No, nor urge me, friend, to hasten + To your "cloudless alien climes," + Hungering for my Fleece like Jason-- + I've been fleeced there many times. + + No, not one of your romances + Can, I say, provide a lure; + Not one spot on earth's expanses + For my ailment find a cure. + + Others may enjoy each jolly day + Somewhere with their hard-earned pelf; + But, for me, I want a holiday + From my super-silly self. + + * * * * * + +THE NUT. + +From a story in _Munsey's Magazine_: + + "My father was a clergyman in a college community; and that explains + my home in a nutshell." + +It doesn't. The father should have been a vegetarian in a Garden City +community. + + * * * * * + + "Captain Roald Amundsen has qualified for his pilot's certificate at + the military camp near Christiania. An officer of the Flying Corps + first took him for a preliminary flight round the course, showing + him what tests were required. Suddenly the elevator broke and the + aeroplane fell nose downwards to the ground 40 feet below. Captain + Amundsen escaped unhurt."--_South Wales Echo._ + +So he got through the first test all right. + + * * * * * + +"SMALL SURREY SCORE. + + ONLY HAYES AND HITCH SHINE AT NORTHAMPTON." + + _Westminster Gazette._ + +Surrey should have been at home, where HAYES and HITCH would have found +an excellent third in Old Sol, who shone at his best. + + * * * * * + + "CLACTON.--A Lady would be glad to hear of anyone wishing to Join + House-Party from August 14th to September 10th. Minute from sea and + ten golf links."--_Advt. in "Times."_ + +Personally we find that, at our usual rate of divot-removing, five +golf-links will last us a month. Ten is an unnecessary extravagance. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Polite little boy_ (_suffering from repletion_). "OH, +PLEASE MISS, DON'T ASK ME TO HAVE ANY MORE; I CAN'T SAY NO." + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks_). + +I think I should have detected what was the primary Trouble with _A Lad +of Kent_ (MACMILLAN) if Mr. HERBERT HARRISON had given me any +opportunity of studying _Lord Haresfield_ at closer quarters. Upon the +material vouchsafed it was impossible to spot in him the villain of the +piece; I was only allowed to meet him at two brief interviews, +throughout which he was consistently courteous and kind, with nothing of +the murderer about him. There was, in this connection, not only +_suppressio veri_, but even some _suggestio falsi_; at any rate I still +have great difficulty in believing that a man so obviously intelligent +and diplomatic could have initiated schemes so unnecessarily elaborate +and entirely incompetent for the mere removal of an unknown and +fatherless village youth. I make these observations only as in duty +bound; for myself, I didn't care twopence who was trying to get rid of +_Phillip_, or why. Provided they didn't succeed, I was content to leave +them at it and enjoy the fascinating picture of life in a sea-coast +village in the good old days when everybody was busy either in +preventing or assisting the "free trade" when a press-gang might come +along at any moment and steal a man or two without so much as by your +leave, and, generally speaking, things moved. Mr. HARRISON has a +delightful style, a perfect sympathy with the times of which he writes, +and no small gift of characterization. Frankly, I don't believe he +attaches any more importance to his plot than I do, for he is quite +content to leave it to itself for several chapters on end. + + * * * + +_The Double House_ (STANLEY PAUL) began attractively with a retired +Indian colonel who had a mysterious sorrow and wished to betake himself +to some quiet English hamlet "where echoes from his past might never +penetrate." Of course this could hardly be called wise of the Colonel; +the slightest knowledge of quiet English neighbourhoods in fiction or +the drama might have assured him that towards the end of Act I somebody +was simply bound to turn up who knew all. However, he rented one half of +a divided old manor house, and, even when informed that the other half +was inhabited by a widow of quiet habits, he apparently did not share my +own instant certainty that there were coincidences ahead. As a matter of +fact E. EVERETT-GREEN, the author, had so arranged matters that this +lady was the sister-in-law of a wicked murderer, for whose crime the +gallant _Colonel_ had himself been tried. So much for his past; but as a +matter of fact that of the lady was ever so much more sinister. She had, +it appeared, married a gentleman called _Paul Enderby_, only to learn +after the ceremony that her husband had a twin-brother _Saul_, who must +have been the twinniest twin that ever breathed, since at no moment +could any living soul tell the two apart. I won't harrow you with +details, but the confusion was such that, even after the unlamented +decease of _Paul_, poor bewildered _Mrs. Enderby_ was by no means sure +that she wasn't only a bereaved sister-in-law. Her sad plight reminded +me of nothing so much as that of the lady in _Engaged_ who entreated to +have three questions answered: "Am I a widow, and if so how came I to be +a widow, and whose widow came I to be?" The great difference between the +two cases is that this of _Mrs. Enderby_ is meant to be taken with +solemnity--a task that I regret to add was too heavy for me. I am only +sorry that so charming a title as _The Double House_ has been so sadly +wasted. + + * * * + +If a wicked male novelist had dared to write _Jacynth_ (CONSTABLE) I +tremble to imagine the things that certain fair critics would have said +about him. But since a woman is the creator, and one, moreover, with the +well-won reputation of Miss STELLA CALLAGHAN, what is there to say? +After all she must know. As a portrait of futility, _Jacynth_ is the +most mercilessly realistic thing that I have met for some time. Pretty, +brainless, egotistical, utterly unable ever to understand even the least +of the men who loved her--this was _Jacynth_. The picture is so +unsparing that (though I am not calling the book a masterpiece or free +from dull moments) the very completeness of the dreadful thing +fascinates you unwillingly. _Jacynth_ was the typical product of a +seaside town, where she was adored by two men--a young squire and a +famous novelist. I was just a little bored by her beginnings, especially +when she sprained her ankle--a gambit I had imagined _démodé_ even with +the most provincial of heroines. However, _Jacynth_ married the +novelist, and after the honeymoon settled down to a steady course of +fatuousness and general interference with his work which presently +reduced the poor man to exasperation, and finally constrained him to +pack her off on a prolonged visit to the seaside home of her maidenhood. +After that _Jacynth_ went from worse to worst; too preposterous a fool +even to be greatly moved when she brought tragedy into the lives of +those who came under her malign influence. I will not follow her +vicissitudes in detail. Throughout the book the most sinister thing in +her story was to me the fact that a woman had written it. Moreover I +have a lurking suspicion that the portrait is no imaginary one. Perhaps +this is a high tribute to Miss CALLAGHAN'S skill; it certainly is meant +to be a compliment to her courage. + + * * * + + I've often longed to come upon + Some giant spoor and dog the track till + I ran to earth a mastodon, + A dinosaur, a pterodactyl; + But I supposed my natal date-- + However distantly I view it-- + Was several thousand years too late + To give me any chance to do it. + + And yet Sir ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE + Has found a man who's penetrated + Through bush and swamp on virgin soil + And seen the things I've indicated, + Creatures with names that clog your pen-- + Dimorphodon and plesiosaurus-- + And carried home a specimen + To silence any doubting chorus. + + In _The Lost World_[A] the tale is told + (SMITH, ELDER do it cheap) in diction + So circumstantial that its hold + Is more than that of common fiction; + If you can run the story through, + By aid of portraits when you need it, + And not be half convinced it's true, + You simply don't deserve to read it. + +[Footnote A: New Edition, with illustrations.] + + * * * + +There is nothing wrong with Mr. EDEN PHILLPOTTS' latest collection of +short stories, _The Judge's Chair_ (MURRAY), but there is something +vigorously to protest against upon the wrapper that covers them. For +there I found an uncompromising statement to the effect that these +stories "bring to a conclusion the author's Dartmoor work," and no +sooner had I read it than my heart sank into my heels. Solemnly I plead +with him to reconsider this decision, for if he does not his innumerable +admirers will be deprived of something almost as annual and quite as +enjoyable as Christmas. If he wants a holiday let him have one by all +means, though personally I was not pleased when he left Dartmoor for +Italy. But let it be only a holiday, a break in his real business. As +for the book, I advise everyone who can appreciate dry humour and quaint +philosophy to sit behind _The Judge's Chair_. "The Two Farmers" is in +its way a masterpiece, grim and very real, and there is not the ghost of +a sign in the whole collection that Mr. PHILLPOTTS has written of +Dartmoor until he is tired of it or it of him. He has made a niche for +himself in that old temple of Nature, and we must all try to persuade +him to stay there. + + * * * + +I have been reading a book, written by the Rev. H. S. PELHAM, and +published by MACMILLAN, which is at least twenty times as absorbing and +moving as any novel. It is called _The Training of a Working Boy_. I +daresay you may have met with other volumes on something like the same +theme before, and may suppose you know all about camps and evening +schools and blind-alley employment and the rest of it. But I am pretty +well sure that you have read nothing more practical and human on the +questions of boydom. It is, indeed, the humanity, sympathetic and more +than half humorous, of Mr. PELHAM'S attitude that gives his book its +appeal and incidentally, I fancy, explains his success with the object +of it. His little volume is a plea for personal rather than pecuniary +help, and is directed more especially to Midlanders, since its chief +concern is with the boy population of Birmingham. I can only wish for it +the largest possible number of readers in the shires and elsewhere, +since to read it is inevitably to be moved to active sympathy. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THIS PICTURE ILLUSTRATES THE DEADLY STRUGGLE WHICH GOES +ON DAILY BETWEEN RIVAL SEASIDE RESORTS. IT REPRESENTS A PARTY OF +HIRELINGS IN THE PAY OF WOBBLETHORPE-ON-SEA ENGAGED IN RUNNING UP THE +RAINFALL OF LITTLE BLINKINGTON. + + * * * * * + + "The selection of a player for the leading _rôle_, that of Pallas + Athene, the beautiful goddess of Greek mythology, was successfully + accomplished when Miss Genevieve Clark, the pretty and vivacious + daughter of Speaker Clark, consented to take the part. Those who + know Miss Clark and Greek mythology will realise at once that there + will be a natural affinity between the player and the character." + + _Washington (D. C.) Post._ + +We never actually met Pallas Athene, but have always heard of her as +being neither very pretty nor vivacious. + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. +147, July 8, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, JULY 8, 1914 *** + +***** This file should be named 29217-8.txt or 29217-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/1/29217/ + +Produced by Neville Allen, Hagay Giller, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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, July 8, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 24, 2009 [EBook #29217] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, JULY 8, 1914 *** + + + + +Produced by Neville Allen, Hagay Giller, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>VOLUME 147</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>July 8, 1914</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p><span class="sc">Lord Brassey</span> is said to be annoyed at the way in which his recent +adventure at Kiel was exaggerated. He landed, it seems, on the mole of +the Kaiser Dockyard, not noticing a warning to trespassers—and certain +of our newspapers proceeded at once to make a mountain out of the mole.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Roosevelt's</span> American physician, Dr. <span class="sc">Alexander Lambert</span>, has confirmed +the advice of his European physicians that the <span class="sc">ex-President</span> must have +four months' rest and must keep out of politics absolutely for that +period; and it is said that President <span class="sc">Wilson</span> is also of the opinion that +the distinguished invalid owes it to his country to keep quiet for a +time.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>At the farewell banquet to Lord <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> members of the Labour Unions +surrounded the hotel and booed loudly with a view to making the speeches +inaudible. As the first serious attempt to protect diners from an orgy +of oratory this incident deserves recording.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>There appear to have been some amusing misfits in the distribution of +prizes at the recent Midnight Ball. For example a young lady of +pronounced sobriety, according to <i>The Daily Chronicle</i>, secured a case +of whisky and went about asking if she could get it changed for perfume. +Whisky is, of course, essentially a man's perfume.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>There are One Woman Shows as well as One Man Shows in these days. An +invitation to be present at a certain function in connection with a +certain charitable institution announces:—</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Athletic Sports and Distribution of Prizes</span> by <span class="sc">Lady</span> —— ——."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Some surprise is being expressed in non-legal circles that the actress +who lost the case which she brought against <span class="sc">Sandow, Limited</span>, for +depicting her as wearing one of their corsets, did not apply for stays +of execution.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Quite a number of our picture galleries are now closed, and it has been +suggested that, with the idea of reconciling the public to this state of +affairs, there shall be displayed conspicuously at the entrance to the +buildings the reminder, "<i>Ars est celare artem</i>."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>The Gentlewoman</i>, by the way, which is publishing a series of articles +entitled "Woman's Work at the 1914 Academy," omits to show us photos of +Mr. <span class="sc">Sargent's</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Clausen's</span> paintings after certain women had worked +upon them.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Admiralty dismisses as "a silly rumour" the report that one of our +new first-class destroyers is to be named <i>The Suffragette</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>In Mr. <span class="sc">Stephen Phillips'</span> play, <i>The Sin of David</i>, we are to see +Cavaliers and Roundheads. This will be a welcome change, for in most of +the theatres nowadays one sees a preponderance of Deadheads.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Once upon a time Red Indians used to kidnap Whites. Last week, Mrs. <span class="sc">W. +Bowman Cutter</span>, a wealthy widow of seventy, living at Boston, +Massachusetts, eloped with her 21-year-old Red-skin chauffeur.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A memorial to a prize-fighter who was beaten by <span class="sc">Tom Sayers</span> was unveiled +at Nottingham last week. Should this idea of doing honour to defeated +British heroes spread to those of to-day our sculptors should have a +busy time.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A visitor to Scarborough nearly lost his motor-car in the sands at Filey +last week: it sank up to the bonnet and was washed by the sea before it +was hauled to safety by four horses. Neptune is said to have been not a +little annoyed at the car's escape, as he realises that his old chariot +drawn by sea-horses is now sadly <i>démodé</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A new organisation, called "The League of Wayfarers," has been formed. +Its members apparently consist of "child policemen," who undertake to +protect wild flowers. How it is going to be done we do not quite +understand. Presumably, small boys will hide behind, say, dandelions, +and emit a loud roar when anyone tries to pluck the tender plant.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/021.png"> +<img src="images/021.png" width="100%" alt="A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA" /></a> +<h4>A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA.</h4> +<p><i>Romantic Tripper.</i> "<span class="sc">Tell me, have you ever picked up any bottles on the +beach</span>?"</p> +<p><i>Boatman.</i> "<span class="sc">Werry often, Miss</span>!"</p> +<p><i>Romantic Tripper.</i> "<span class="sc">And have you found anything in them</span>?"</p> +<p><i>Boatman.</i> "<span class="sc">Not a blessed drop, Miss</span>!"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p>The intrepid photographer again! <i>The Illustrated London News</i> +advertises:—</p> +<center><span class="sc">Photogravure Presentation Plate of<br /> +<br /> +GENERAL BOOTH AND<br /> +MRS. BRAMWELL BOOTH<br /> +<br /> +Lions Photographed at 5 Yards'<br /> +Distance</span>.</center> + +<hr /> + +<p>When <i>The Yorkshire Post</i> and <i>The Hull Daily Mail</i> differ, who shall +decide between them? <i>The Hull Daily Mail</i> asserts positively that <span class="sc">A. +Papazonglon</span> won the long jump at the Bridlington Grammar School sports +and that <span class="sc">C. Papazonglon</span> was second in the 100 yards and High Jump. Its +contemporary, however, unhesitatingly awards these positions to <span class="sc">C. +Papazonglou</span>, <span class="sc">C. Papazonga</span> and <span class="sc">G. Papazaglou</span> respectively. But it gives +the "Victor Ludorum" cup to a new competitor, <span class="sc">C. Papazouglou</span>, and again +differs from <i>The Hull Daily Mail</i>, which knows for a fact that it was +won by <span class="sc">C. Ppazonglon</span>. Whom shall we believe?</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="sc">"Asquith Denies Militant Plea</span>.</p> + +<p>Receives Working Women but Won't Introduce Bill."—<i>New York Evening +Sun.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>We are left with the uneasy impression that William is a snob.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"On a divan the motion for rejection was carried by 178 to +136."—<i>Daily Chronicle.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Our politicians are right to take it easy this hot weather.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> + +<h2>A PATRIOT UNDER FIRE.</h2> + +<center>(<i>Observed during the recent heat wave.</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Philip, I note with unaffected awe</p> +<p class="i2">How, with the glass at 90 in the cool,</p> +<p class="i0">You still obey inflexibly the law</p> +<p class="i2">That governs manners of the British school;</p> +<p class="i0">How, in a climate where the sweltering air</p> +<p class="i2">Seems to be wafted from a kitchen copper,</p> +<p class="i0">You still refuse to lay aside your wear</p> +<p class="i10">Of sable (proper).</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">The Civil Service which you so adorn</p> +<p class="i2">Would lose its prestige, visibly grown slack,</p> +<p class="i0">And all its lofty pledges be forsworn</p> +<p class="i2">Were you to deviate from your boots of black;</p> +<p class="i0">Were you to shed that coat of sombre dye,</p> +<p class="i2">That ebon brain-box (imitation beaver)</p> +<p class="i0">Whose torrid aspect strikes the passer-by</p> +<p class="i10">With tertian fever.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">As something far beyond me I respect</p> +<p class="i2">The virtue, equal to the stiffest crux,</p> +<p class="i0">Which thus forbids your costume to deflect</p> +<p class="i2">Into the primrose path of straw and ducks;</p> +<p class="i0">I praise that fine regard for red-hot tape</p> +<p class="i2">Which calmly and without an eyelid's flutter</p> +<p class="i0">Suffers the maddening noon to melt your nape</p> +<p class="i10">As it were butter.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"His clothes are not the man," I freely own,</p> +<p class="i2">Yet often they express the stuff they hide,</p> +<p class="i0">As yours, I like to fancy, take their tone</p> +<p class="i2">From stern, ascetic qualities inside;</p> +<p class="i0">Just as the soldier's heavy marching-gear</p> +<p class="i2">Conceals a heart of high determination,</p> +<p class="i0">Too big, in any temperature, to fear</p> +<p class="i10">Nervous prostration.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">I cite the warrior's case who goes through fire;</p> +<p class="i2">For you, no less a patriot, face your risk</p> +<p class="i0">When in your country's service you perspire</p> +<p class="i2">In blacks that snort at Phœbus' flaming disc;</p> +<p class="i0">So, till a medal (justly made of jet)</p> +<p class="i2">Records your grit and pluck for all to know 'em,</p> +<p class="i0">I on your chest with safety-pins will set</p> +<p class="i10">This inky poem.</p> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">O. S.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>"THE PURPLE LIE."</h2> + +<p>"Arabella," I said, examining the fuzzy part of her which projected +above the dome of the coffee-pot, "I perceive that you mope. That being +so, I am glad to be able to tell you that I have been presented with two +tickets for <i>The Purple Lie</i> to-morrow evening."</p> + +<p>"Sorry," she replied, "but it's off."</p> + +<p>"Off!" I exclaimed indignantly, "when the box-office is being besieged +all day by a howling mob, and armoured commissionaires are constantly +being put into commission to defend it. Off!"</p> + +<p>"What I mean to say is," said Arabella, "that we're dining with the +Messington-Smiths to-morrow evening."</p> + +<p>I bowed my head above the marmalade and wept. "Arabella," I groaned, +looking up at last, "what have we done that these people should continue +to supply us with food? We do not love them, and they do not love us. +The woman is a bromide. Her husband is even worse. He is a phenacetin. I +shall fall asleep in the middle of the asparagus and butter myself +badly. Think, moreover, of the distance to Morpheus Avenue. Remember +that I have been palpitating to see <i>The Purple Lie</i> for weeks."</p> + +<p>"So have I," said Arabella. "It's sickening, but I am afraid we must +pass those tickets on."</p> + +<p>I happened that day to be lunching with my friend Charles. "The last +thing in the world I want to do," I said to him, "is to oblige you in +any way, but I chance to have—ahem!—purchased two stalls for <i>The +Purple Lie</i> which I cannot make use of. I had forgotten that I am dining +with some very important and—er—influential people to-morrow night. +When a man moves as I do amid a constant whirl of gilt-edged +engagements——"</p> + +<p>"Ass!" said Charles, and pocketed the tickets.</p> + +<p>On the following morning I perceived a large crinkly frown at the +opposite end of the breakfast table, and, rightly divining that Arabella +was behind it, asked her what the trouble was.</p> + +<p>"It's the Messington-Smiths," she complained. "They can't have us to +dinner after all. It seems that Mrs. Messington-Smith has a bad sore +throat."</p> + +<p>"Any throat would be sore," I replied, "that had Mrs. Messington-Smith +talking through it. I wonder whether Charles is using those tickets."</p> + +<p>"You might ring up and see."</p> + +<p>To step lightly to the telephone, ask for Charles's number, get the +wrong one, ask again, find that he had gone to his office, ring him up +there and get through to him, was the work of scarcely fifteen minutes. +"Charles," I said, "are you using those two stalls of mine to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Awfully sorry," he replied, "but I can't go myself. I gave them away +yesterday evening."</p> + +<p>"Wurzel!" I said. "Who to?"</p> + +<p>"To whom," he corrected gently. "To a dull man I met in the City named +Messington-Smith."</p> + +<p>"Named <i>what</i>?" I shrieked.</p> + +<p>"Messington-Smith. <i>M</i> for Mpret, <i>E</i> for Eiderdown——"</p> + +<p>"Where does he live?"</p> + +<p>"21, Morpheus Avenue."</p> + +<p>For a moment the room seemed to spin round me. I put down the +transmitter and pressed my hand to my forehead. Then in a shaking voice +I continued—"Of all the double-barrelled, unmitigated, blue-faced——"</p> + +<p>"What number, please?" sang a sweet soprano voice. I rang off, and went +to break the news to Arabella.</p> + +<p>She was silent for a few moments, and then asked me suddenly, +"Whereabouts in the stalls were those seats of ours?"</p> + +<p>"Almost in the middle of the third row," I replied mournfully.</p> + +<p>Arabella said no more, but with a rather disdainful smile on her face +walked firmly to her little escritoire, sat down, wrote a note, and +addressed it to Mrs. Messington-Smith.</p> + +<p>"What have you said?" I asked, as she stamped her letter with a rather +vicious jab on <span class="sc">King George's</span> left eye.</p> + +<p>"Just that I am sorry about her old sore throat," she replied. "And then +I went on, that wasn't it funny by the same post we had been given two +stalls for <i>The Purple Lie</i> to-night in a very good place in the middle +of the third row? She will get the letter by lunch-time," she added +pensively, "and it will be so nice for her to know that we shall be +sitting almost next to them."</p> + +<p>"But we aren't going to <i>The Purple Lie</i> at all," I protested.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "and as a matter of fact I don't suppose the +Messington-Smiths are either—now."</p> + +<p>I left Arabella smiling triumphantly through her tears, +but when I returned in the evening the breakfast-time frown had +reappeared with even crinklier ramifications.</p> + +<p>"Why," I asked, "are you looking like a tube map?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Messington-Smith," she answered with a slight catch in her voice, +"has just been telephoning."</p> + +<p>"I thought the receiver looked a bit played out," I said. "What does she +want with us now?"</p> + +<p>"Well, she <i>has</i> got a sore throat after all. You could tell that from +her voice. And she isn't going to <i>The Purple Lie</i> either. She never +even meant to."</p> + +<p>"But the tickets," I gasped.</p> + +<p>"She and her husband quite forgot about them till to-day," said +Arabella. "And now they have given them away to some friends. But they +weren't given away at all till this afternoon, and——"</p> + +<p>She broke off and gave a lachrymose little sniff.</p> + +<p>"And what?"</p> + +<p>"And she knew, of course, that we're disengaged to-night, and when she +got my letter she was just going to send them round to us."</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/023.png"> +<img src="images/023.png" width="100%" alt="BEATEN ON POINTS" /></a> +<h4>BEATEN ON POINTS.</h4> +<p><span class="sc">L.C.C. Tram</span>. "HARD LINES ON ME!"</p> +<p><span class="sc">Motor-'Bus</span>. "YES, IT'S ALWAYS HARD LINES WITH YOU, MY BOY. THAT'S WHAT'S +THE MATTER; YOU CAN'T SIDE-STEP."</p> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/025.png"> +<img src="images/025.png" width="100%" alt="Who's the little man holding his racket" /></a> +<p>"<span class="sc">Who's the little man holding his racket that funny way?"</span></p> +<p>"<span class="sc">Oh, that's Mr. Binks. He takes the plate round in church, you know</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Commercial Candour.</h4> + +<p>From a testimonial:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"I have had this cover on the rear wheel of my 3½ h.p. Humber +Motor Cycle and have ridden same 7,000 miles, six of these without a +puncture."—<i>Advt. in "Motor Cycle."</i></p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<center>"MRD. CPL., temporary."—<i>Advt. in "Daily Mail."</i></center> + +<p>When we tell you that the mystic letters mean "married couple," you will +share our horror.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>WOMAN AT THE FIGHT.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">In ancient unsophisticated days</p> +<p class="i0">Women were valued for their cloistered ways.</p> +<p class="i0">And won at Rome encouragement from man</p> +<p class="i0">Only because they stayed at home and span;</p> +<p class="i0">While <span class="sc">Pericles</span> in Attic Greek expressed</p> +<p class="i0">The view that those least talked about were best.</p> +<p class="i0">There were exceptions, but the normal Greek</p> +<p class="i0">Regarded <span class="sc">Sappho</span> as a dangerous freak,</p> +<p class="i0">And <span class="sc">Clytemnestra</span> for three thousand years</p> +<p class="i0">Was pelted with unmitigated sneers,</p> +<p class="i0">Till <span class="sc">Richard Strauss</span> and <span class="sc">Hofmannsthal</span> combined</p> +<p class="i0">To prove that she was very much maligned.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">But now at last these cloistered days are o'er</p> +<p class="i0">And woman, breaking down her prison door,</p> +<p class="i0">Is free to take the middle of the floor.</p> +<p class="i0">No more for her indomitable soul</p> +<p class="i0">The meekly ministering angel <i>rôle</i>;</p> +<p class="i0">No more the darner of her husband's socks,</p> +<p class="i0">She takes delight in watching champions box,</p> +<p class="i0">Finds respite from the carking cares that vex us</p> +<p class="i0">In cheering blows that reach the solar plexus,</p> +<p class="i0">Joins in the loud and patriotic shout</p> +<p class="i0">While beaten <span class="sc">Bell</span> is being counted out,</p> +<p class="i0">And—joy that makes all other joys seem nil—</p> +<p class="i0">Writes her impressions for <i>The Daily Thrill</i>.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> + +<h2>ONCE UPON A TIME.</h2> + +<center><span class="sc">The Susceptible American</span>.</center> + +<p>Once upon a time there was a beautiful singer named Miss Iris Bewlay. +Every now and then she gave a recital, and it was always crowded. She +was chosen to sing "God save the King" at bazaars and Primrose League +meetings; her rendering of "Home, Sweet Home" moistened every eye. +Hostesses wishing to be really in the swim engaged her to sing during +after-dinner conversation for enormous fees.</p> + +<p>When Miss Iris Bewlay was approaching the forties and adding every day +to her wealth, another Miss Bewlay—not Iris, but Gladys, and no +relation whatever—was gradually improving her gift of song with a +well-known teacher, for it was Miss Gladys Bewlay's intention, with her +parents' strong approval, to become a professional. She had not, it is +true, her illustrious namesake's commanding presence or powerful +register, but her voice was sweet and refined and she might easily have +a future.</p> + +<p>It happened that a susceptible music-loving American staying in London +for a short time was taken by some English friends to a concert at which +Miss Iris Bewlay was singing, and he fell at once a victim to her tones. +Never before had he heard a voice which so thrilled and moved him. He +returned to his hotel enraptured, and awoke with but one desire and that +was to hear Miss Bewlay again.</p> + +<p>"Say, where is a Miss Bewlay singing to-night?" he asked the hotel +porter.</p> + +<p>The porter searched all the concert announcements, but found no mention +of the great name. In the end he advised a visit to one of the ticket +libraries, and off the enthusiast hurried.</p> + +<p>Now it happened that this very evening was the one chosen for the +<i>début</i>, before a number of invited friends, of Miss Gladys Bewlay, and +one of the guests chanced to be at the ticket library at the moment the +susceptible American entered and fired his question at the clerk.</p> + +<p>"Say, can you tell me where Miss Bewlay is singing to-night?" he said.</p> + +<p>The clerk having no information, the susceptible American was turning +away when the guest of the other Bewlay family ventured to address him +with the information that Miss Bewlay was singing that evening at a +private gathering at one of the halls.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't I get in?" the American asked.</p> + +<p>"It's private," said the lady. "It's only for the friends of the +family."</p> + +<p>"Let me take down the address, anyway," said he, and took it down.</p> + +<p>That evening, just before Miss Gladys Bewlay's first song, a visiting +card was handed to one of her brothers, with the statement that a +gentleman desired the pleasure of a moment's interview on a matter of +great importance.</p> + +<p>"See here," said the gentleman, and it was none other than the +susceptible American, "I'm just crazy about Miss Bewlay's singing. They +tell me she's here to-night. Now I know it's a strange thing to ask, but +I want to know if you can't just let me lean against a pillar somewhere +at the back while she's singing, and then I'll go right away. It's my +last chance for some time, you see. I go back to America to-morrow."</p> + +<p>The brother, not a little impressed by his sister's magnetism, all +unsuspected in a <i>débutante</i>, and imagining the American to have heard +her at a lesson, said he saw no reason why this little scheme should not +be carried out; and so the American entered and took up an obscure +position; and in a short while Miss Bewlay ascended the platform and +began to sing.</p> + +<p>When she had finished the American approached one of the guests and +begged to be told the name of the singer.</p> + +<p>"Miss Bewlay," said the guest. "It's her first appearance to-night."</p> + +<p>"Miss Bewlay," gasped the American. "Then there are two of them. You say +this is her first appearance?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then she's very young?"</p> + +<p>"Only about twenty."</p> + +<p>The American returned to his corner, and the second song began.</p> + +<p>Whatever disappointment his ears may have suffered it would have been +obvious to close observers that his eyes were contented enough. They +rested on the fair young singer with delight and admiration, and when +she had finished there was no applause like the susceptible American's.</p> + +<p>When Miss Bewlay's brother had gradually worked his way to the back of +the room, he found the American in an ecstasy.</p> + +<p>"She's great," he said. "Say, would it be too much to ask you to +introduce me?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said the brother, who was as pleased at his sister's +success as though it were his own.</p> + +<p>The American did not return to his own country the next day, nor for +many days after; and when he did he was engaged to Miss Gladys Bewlay.</p> + +<p>Isn't that a pretty fairy story? and almost every word of it is true.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/026.png"> +<img src="images/026.png" width="100%" alt="My dear old fellow!" /></a><br /> +"<span class="sc">My dear old fellow! what's the matter? the sea's like A +Duck-pond!"</span> +<p>"<span class="sc">I Know, Old Boy—but I've Taken Six—different—remedies</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A SEASIDE "SONG SCENA."</h2> + +<p><span class="sc">Yesterday</span> I celebrated the beginning of my holidays by patronising <i>The +Melodities</i> on the beach. <i>The Melodities</i> are a band of entertainers +who draw enormous salaries for giving a couple of performances daily in +a kind of luxurious open-air theatre.</p> + +<p>"Ladies and Gentlemen," announced the Manager soon after I had taken my +seat, "our first item will be a Song Scena entitled <i>The Moon</i>, by +Bertie Weston, assisted by six members of the company." A quiver of +expectation ran through the crowded audience.</p> + +<p>Bertie Weston, wearing a uniform resembling (I imagine) that of a +Patagonian Vice-Admiral, advanced mincingly to the footlights, and the +six others, similarly attired, ranged themselves in a row behind him. +Behind these again dropped a back-cloth representing a stone balustrade, +blue hills and fleecy clouds.</p> + +<p>There was a burst of warm applause, in response to which Bertie politely +bowed his thanks. Without further preliminary he commenced—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">The crescent moon on high</p> +<p class="i0">Is shining in the sky.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>Here the six turned up their faces and gazed pensively at the heavens +(it was still broad daylight, by the way), at the same time resting +their chins on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +their right hands and their right elbows on their left hands.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i10">The sun is gone,</p> +<p class="i10">The stars are wan,</p> +<p class="i0">Oh come, my love, we'll wander, you and I.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>Here the six ceased to regard the sky, split into pairs and by +pantomimic gesture invited one another to wander.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Across the hills we'll go,</p> +<p class="i0">While birds sing soft and low.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>The singer paused for an instant, while the six, now formed into a +semicircle, hummed together softly a suggestion of distant nightingales. +Not an imitation—that would be too banal—but a suggestion. In point of +fact I thought I detected the air of "The Little Grey Home in the West."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">While the silver moon adorns the summer sky.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>After a brief pause, brightened by what are vulgarly termed twiddly bits +on the piano, the soloist sang the chorus, softly and appealing, with a +sort of treacly intonation:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i10">Moon, moon, moon,</p> +<p class="i10">We'll come soon, soon,</p> +<p class="i0">Across the hills while all the world is dreaming.</p> +<p class="i10">Moon, moon, moon,</p> +<p class="i10">I'd like to swoon, swoon,</p> +</div></div> + +<p>The heads of the six drooped listlessly and their hands fell languidly +to their sides; their eyes closed.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">When I see your white rays beaming, gleaming, streaming.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>The six awoke briskly and commenced to glide around the stage, +describing circles, figures of eight, and other more intricate patterns, +while Bertie swayed his body rhythmically from side to side, his arms +and hands outstretched and palms turned downwards. In this formation +they all repeated the chorus together.</p> + +<p>Bertie now cleared his throat and started on the second verse without +delay. The six stood sideways, their hands in their trousers pockets and +their faces turned to the audience.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Oh, moon of dainty grace,</p> +<p class="i0">Shine on my loved one's face.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>The footlights were suddenly switched off and each of the six produced a +small electric torch and illuminated his neighbour's features. The +effect was startling. Presently the footlights reappeared as abruptly as +they had vanished and the torches were extinguished.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Upon the hill</p> +<p class="i0">The night is still.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>Again there was a short pause, during which the six breathed lightly +through their teeth, producing a faint and long-drawn +<i>sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Oh come, my love, together let us haste.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>The six ceased sh-sh-ing and gracefully invited one another to haste.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8">Away, away, we'll roam</p> +<p class="i8">To seek our fairy home,</p> +<p class="i0">While the silver moon illuminates the place.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>The six placed both hands on their breasts and stood with bowed heads, +motionless except for a continuous and rhythmic bending of the knees, +while Bertie sang the chorus softly, lingeringly. Then, stretching out +their arms, they swayed their bodies from side to side as their leader +had previously done, while Bertie himself drifted in and out between +them, and all rendered the chorus for the second time.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i10">Moon, moon, moon,</p> +<p class="i10">We'll come soon, soon.</p> +<p class="i0">Across the hills while all the world is dreaming.</p> +<p class="i10">Moon, moon, moon,</p> +<p class="i10">I want to swoon, swoon,</p> +<p class="i0">When I see your white rays beaming, gleaming, streaming.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>There was a moment's emotional silence, broken by a thunder of rapturous +applause. The Song Scena, all too short, was finished.</p> + +<p>Anxious not to risk spoiling the impression, I arose and left hastily +before the next turn.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/027.png"> +<img src="images/027.png" width="100%" alt="Herbert, I can't find my bathing-dress" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>She.</i> "<span class="sc">Herbert, I can't find my bathing-dress anywhere!</span>"</p> +<p><i>He.</i> "<span class="sc">See if you've got it on.</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Young M'Pherson, the Blackford jumper, is anxious to fix up a match +for a long jump with anybody in Scotland. A week ago he did 5½ ft., +but he asserts he can beat this hollow if called upon."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="author"><i>Edinburgh Evening News.</i></p> + +<p>If <span class="sc">M'Pherson</span> will say just how young he is, we will find a suitable +nephew to take him on. Tommy (aged eight) did 6 ft. 1 in. yesterday, but +asserts that he slipped.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> + +<h2>A MIDSUMMER MADNESS.</h2> + +<p>The girl who shared Herbert's meringue at dinner (a brittle one, which +exploded just as he was getting into it) was kind and tactful.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter a bit," she said, removing fragments of shell from +her lap; and, to put him at his ease again, went on, "Are you interested +in little problems at all?"</p> + +<p>Herbert, who would have been interested even in a photograph album just +then, emerged from his apologies and swore that he was.</p> + +<p>"We're all worrying about one which Father saw in a paper. I do wish you +could solve it for us. It goes like this." And she proceeded to explain +it. Herbert decided that the small piece of meringue still in her hair +was not worth mentioning and listened to her with interest.</p> + +<p>On the next morning I happened to drop in at Herbert's office.... And +that, in short, is how I was mixed up in the business.</p> + +<p>"Look here," said Herbert, "you used to be mathematical; here's +something for you."</p> + +<p>"Let the dead past bury its dead," I implored. "I am now quite +respectable."</p> + +<p>"It goes like this," he said, ignoring my appeal.</p> + +<p>He then gave me the problem, which I hand on to you.</p> + +<p>"A subaltern riding at the rear of a column of soldiers trotted up to +the captain in front and challenged him to a game of billiards for +half-a-crown a side, the loser to pay for the table. Having lost, he +played another hundred, double or quits, and then rode back, the column +by this time having travelled twice its own length, and a distance equal +to the distance it would have travelled if it had been going in the +other direction. What was the captain's name?"</p> + +<p>Perhaps I have not got it quite right, for I have had an eventful week +since then; or perhaps Herbert didn't get it quite right; or perhaps the +girl with the meringue in her hair didn't get it quite right; but +anyhow, that was the idea of it.</p> + +<p>"And the answer," said Herbert, "ought to be 'four cows,' but I keep on +making it 'eight and tuppence.' Just have a shot at it, there's a good +fellow. I promised the girl, you know."</p> + +<p>I sat down, worked it out hastily on the back of an envelope, and made +it a yard and a half.</p> + +<p>"No," said Herbert; "I know it's 'four cows,' but I can't get it."</p> + +<p>"Sorry," I said, "how stupid of me; I left out the table-money."</p> + +<p>I did it hastily again and made it three minutes twenty-five seconds.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> difficult, isn't it?" said Herbert. "I thought, as you used to +be mathematical and as I'd promised the girl——"</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment," I said, still busy with my envelope. "I forgot the +subaltern. Ah, that's right. The answer is a hundred and twenty-five +men.... No, that's wrong—I never doubled the half-crown. Er—oh, look +here, Herbert, I'm rather busy this morning. I'll send it to you."</p> + +<p>"Right," said Herbert. "I know I can depend on you, because you're +mathematical." And he opened the door for me.</p> + +<p>I had meant to do a very important piece of work that day, but I +couldn't get my mind off Herbert's wretched problem. Happening to see +Carey at tea-time, I mentioned it to him.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Carey profoundly. "H'm. Have you tried it with an '<i>x</i>'?"</p> + +<p>"Of course."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it looks as though it wants a bit of an '<i>x</i>' somewhere. You stick +to it with an '<i>x</i>' and you ought to do it. Let '<i>x</i>' be the +subaltern—that's the way. I say, I didn't know you were interested in +problems."</p> + +<p>"Well——"</p> + +<p>"Because I've got rather a tricky chess problem here I can't do." He +produced his pocket chess-board. "White mates in four moves."</p> + +<p>I looked at it carelessly. Black had only left himself with a Pawn and a +King, while White had seen to it that he had a Queen and a couple of +Knights about. Now, I know very little about chess, but I do understand +the theory of chess problems.</p> + +<p>"Have you tried letting the Queen be taken by Black's pawn, then +sacrificing the Knights, and finally mating him with the King alone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Carey.</p> + +<p>Then I was baffled. If one can't solve a chess problem by starting off +with the most unlikely-looking thing on the board, one can't solve it at +all. However, I copied down the position and said I'd glance at it.... +At eleven that night I rose from my glance, decided that Herbert's +problem was the more immediately pressing, and took it to bed with me.</p> + +<p>I was lunching with William next day, and I told him about the +subaltern. He dashed at it lightheartedly and made the answer seventeen.</p> + +<p>"Seventeen what?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Well, whatever we're talking about. I think you'll find it's seventeen +all right. But look here, my son, here's a golf problem for you. A. is +playing B. At the fifth hole A. falls off the tee into a pond——"</p> + +<p>I forget how it went on.</p> + +<p>When I got home to dinner, after a hard day with the subaltern, I found +a letter from Norah waiting for me.</p> + +<p>"I hear from Mr. Carey," she wrote, "that you're keen on problems. +Here's one I have cut out of our local paper. Do have a shot at it. The +answer ought to be eight miles an hour."</p> + +<p>Luckily, however, she forgot to enclose the problem. For by this time, +what with Herbert's subaltern, Carey's pawn, and a cistern left me by an +uncle who was dining with us that night, I had more than enough to +distract me.</p> + +<p>And so the business has gone on. The news that I am preparing a +collection of interesting and tricky problems for a new <i>Encylopædia</i> +has got about among my friends. Everybody who writes to me tells me of a +relation of his who has been shearing sheep or rowing against the stream +or dealing himself four aces. People who come to tea borrow a box of +wooden matches and beg me to remove one match and leave a perfect +square. I am asked to do absurd things with pennies....</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Herbert has forgotten both the problem and the girl. Three +evenings later he shared his Hollandaise sauce with somebody in yellow +(as luck would have it) and she changed the subject by wondering if he +read <span class="sc">Dickens</span>. He is now going manfully through <i>Bleak House</i>—a chapter +a night—and when he came to visit me to-day he asked me if I had ever +heard of the man.</p> + +<p>However I was not angry with him, for I had just made it come to "three +cows." It is a cow short, but it is nearer than I have ever been before, +and I think I shall leave it at that. Indeed, both the doctor and the +nurse say that I had better leave it at that.</p> + +<p class="author">A. A. M.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A SEASONABLE BEVERAGE.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Great charm hath tea—some fragrant blend;</p> +<p class="i0">Sipped with a fair and festive friend;</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">And even milk hath flavour, too,</p> +<p class="i0">When sun-kissed milkmaids hand it you.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Beer, in a large resounding can,</p> +<p class="i0">Befits a coarser type of man,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">While some rejoice in spirit pure,</p> +<p class="i0">And others in a faked liqueur.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">But none of these, nor any wine,</p> +<p class="i0">Hath present claim to praise of mine,</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Hath e'er produced the gasp and thrill</p> +<p class="i0">Of that incomparable swill</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">When first, from care and toil set free,</p> +<p class="i0">I plunge into the summer sea</p> +<p class="i0">And bring a mouthful back with me.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/029.png"> +<img src="images/029.png" width="100%" alt="THE ANNUAL PROBLEM" /></a> +<h4>THE ANNUAL PROBLEM.</h4> +<p><i>Showing how helpfully the hoardings distinguish between the +characteristic features of various localities.</i></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/030.png"> +<img src="images/030.png" width="100%" alt="A LONG-FELT WANT" /></a> +<h4>A LONG-FELT WANT.</h4> +<p><span class="sc">The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty To Motor-Cycles.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>POLITICS AT THE ZOO.</h2> + +<p>Lord <span class="sc">Robert Cecil's</span> comparison of the occupants of the Treasury Bench to +the monkeys at the Zoo has caused considerable excitement in Regent's +Park, and one of <i>Mr. Punch's</i> representatives, assisted by an +interpreter, has taken the opportunity to sound some of the principal +inmates on the subject.</p> + +<p>In the Simian section a certain amount of regret was expressed that Lord +<span class="sc">Robert</span> had not been more explicit in his comparison. Did he refer to +chimpanzees, baboons, gorillas or other species? But when all allowance +was made for this lack of precision the general impression was one of +satisfaction that a leading politician should have frankly admitted that +monkeys possessed qualities which entitled their human possessors to +high office and handsome salaries. It was felt that this admission +marked a great advance on all previous concessions to the claims of the +Simian community, and pointed irresistibly to the ultimate +grant—already long overdue—of Monkey Franchise throughout the Empire.</p> + +<p>Baboons, it was well known, were already employed as railway porters in +Cape Colony, and chimpanzees had of late years appeared with great +success at some of the leading music-halls. In view of these facts the +further delay of the suffrage could no longer be justified. At present +we were confronted with the gross anomaly that a tailor, who was +admitted to be only the ninth part of a man, was given a vote, while the +monkey, man's ancestor, was denied even the fraction which was all that +a tailor deserved.</p> + +<p>These views however were not shared by other <i>genera</i> domiciled at the +Zoological Gardens. One of the oldest lions observed in a strepitous +bass that it was a great relief to him that his race had not been +degraded by any such comparisons. He had some respect for hunters, but +as for politicians he would not be seen dead with them at a pig fair. +Asked whether he had read Mr. <span class="sc">Ramsay MacDonald's</span> account of his +lion-hunting exploits, in <i>The Daily Chronicle</i>, he professed ignorance +and even indifference. Speaking as an aristocrat he thought that a +Labour leader was not worthy to twist his tail. As for the conduct of +Mr. <span class="sc">Bernard Shaw</span> in bringing lions on the stage, he thought it little +short of an outrage for an anæmic vegetarian to take liberties with the +king of the carnivora.</p> + +<p>Considerable resentment was shown in the Ursine encampment at Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd +George's</span> somewhat disparaging reference to the bear's hug. (It will be +remembered that he compared with it the attitude of the Tories in +respect of the Finance Bill.) The <span class="sc">Chancellor of the Exchequer</span> evidently +regarded it as an insincere caress, whereas it was a perfectly honest +expression of hostility. This attack was all the more unjust and +undeserved since the bear was a most hardworking and underpaid member of +the community. When a politician reached the top of the poll he got £400 +a year. When a bear did the same he only got a penny bun.</p> + +<p>A conversation with a leading representative of the colony of Penguins +revealed the interesting fact that they were incapable of appreciating +our Parliamentary procedure owing to their hereditary inability to sit +down.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/031.png"> +<img src="images/031.png" width="100%" alt="Mr. Punch's Holiday Pages" /></a> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE PRIMA DONNA.</h2> + +<center>[<i>The repertoire of Summer is here made to embrace the prelude of many +good things that come within the wider scope of the holiday season.</i>]</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, we crave your kind attention!</p> +<p class="i2">Here's Summer, at your service (till you bid the lady stop);</p> +<p class="i0">Good gentlemen, she's songs for you—'tis time to drop dissension;</p> +<p class="i2">'Tis time to cut the cackle and to close awhile the shop;</p> +<p class="i0">For stags shall be in Badenoch, and Kent hath twined the hop.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Yes, songs for every son o' you, and all have silver linings!</p> +<p class="i2">Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, it's close, your London air;</p> +<p class="i0">If I'm mixing up the proverbs, 'tis because my roads run shining</p> +<p class="i2">Through the fret of far-off pine-woods, and I'm wishful to be there;</p> +<p class="i0">Or at hand among the hop-poles when the vines are trailing fair.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Good gentlemen, the prologue! Here's a programme most attractive:</p> +<p class="i2">She's songs for everyone o' you—oh, rare the tunes and rich!</p> +<p class="i0">Here's hackneyed <i>Devon Harbours</i> (but the pollock's biting active);</p> +<p class="i2">Here's <i>Evening</i> (rise in Hampshire); here's <i>The Roller on the Pitch</i>;</p> +<p class="i0">And music in the lot o' them—it doesn't matter which.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">We've long <i>White Roads o' Brittany</i> and pretty <i>Wayside Posies</i>,</p> +<p class="i2"><i>Blue Bays</i> (beneath the undercliff—the white sails crawling by);</p> +<p class="i0">We've <i>Rabbits in a Hedgerow</i> (how the bustling Clumber noses);</p> +<p class="i2">We've <i>Grouse Across the Valley</i> (crashing crumpled from the sky);</p> +<p class="i0">And magic's in each note of her—it doesn't matter why.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Here's <i>Salmon Songs</i> and <i>Shrimping Songs</i>, according to your pocket;</p> +<p class="i2">Here's <i>Hopping</i> (with a lurcher—twice as useful as a gun</p> +<p class="i0">For the fat young August pheasants that'll never live to rocket);</p> +<p class="i2">Here's a jolly <i>Song o' Golf Balls</i>; here's the tune of <i>Cubs that Run</i>;</p> +<p class="i0">We've something for each Jack o' you, for every mother's son.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, we crave your kind permission!</p> +<p class="i2">Here's Summer, at your service, and she'd sing you on your ways</p> +<p class="i0">The marching songs of morning and the Road that fits the Vision,</p> +<p class="i2">The mellow songs of twilight and the gold September haze;</p> +<p class="i0">God rest you all, good gentlemen, and send you pleasant days.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> + +<h4><span class="sc">The vogue for wearing fancy dress threatens to invade +ordinary social life.</span></h4> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/032a.png"> +<img src="images/032a.png" width="100%" alt="Tennis at the Vicarage" /></a> +<center><span class="sc">Tennis at the Vicarage.</span></center> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/032b.png"> +<img src="images/032b.png" width="100%" alt="A jolly bathing party" /></a> +<center><span class="sc">A jolly bathing party.</span></center> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/033.png"> +<img src="images/033.png" width="100%" alt="Our dear old friend" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">Our dear old friend, the foreign spy (cunningly disguised +as a golfer), visits our youngest suburb one Saturday afternoon in quest +of further evidence of our lethargy, general decadence and falling +birth-rate. He gets a shock and at once telegraphs to his +commander-in-chief urging that the conquest of the British Isles be +undertaken before the present generation is many years older.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> + +<h2>THE INTRUSIONS OF THE CINEMA.</h2> + +<p>[Jones, secretary to the South Sea Islanders' Regeneration Society, who +is suffering from nerves, is recommended a very remote sea-coast retreat +for his summer holiday. With his wife and family he tries it. The +manager of a certain cinema company likewise chooses this particular +spot for his company to rehearse their powerful new drama, "Down among +the Dead Men."]</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/034a.png"> +<img src="images/034a.png" width="100%" alt="wake up, Dad" /></a><br /><br /> +<center><i>Miss Jones.</i> "<span class="sc">wake up, Dad, we're going to bathe.</span>"</center> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/034b.png"> +<img src="images/034b.png" width="100%" alt="After the wreck" /></a><br /><br /> +<center><i>First Act of the Drama.</i>—<span class="sc">After the wreck: Desmond and Rosemary washed +ashore on the Cannibal Island</span>.</center> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/035a.png"> +<img src="images/035a.png" width="100%" alt="Jones (to the rescue)" /></a><br /><br /> +<center><i>Jones (to the rescue).</i> "<span class="sc">Devils! fiends! Untie that white man!</span>"</center><br /><br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/035b.png"> +<img src="images/035b.png" width="100%" alt="The Cinema Manager explains" /></a><br /><br /> +<center><i>The Cinema Manager explains.</i> "<span class="sc">Sorry to have caused you any +inconvenience, Sir—merely rehearsing 'Down among the Dead Men'—dam +fine drama, Sir—we produce same at the Opera 'Ouse, Croydon, on the +16th.</span>"</center> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/036a.png"> +<img src="images/036a.png" width="100%" alt="Surf-rider" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>Surf-rider.</i> "<span class="sc">I'm almost sure this isn't a bit the way +it's done in those illustrated papers!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/036b.png"> +<img src="images/036b.png" width="100%" alt="Early Tripper" /></a><br /><br /> +<center><i>Early Tripper.</i> "<span class="sc">Makes yer feel like ole Napoleon at +what's-its-name!</span>"</center> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/037a.png"> +<img src="images/037a.png" width="100%" alt="APT NOMENCLATURE IN OUR GARDEN SUBURB" /></a> +<h4>APT NOMENCLATURE IN OUR GARDEN SUBURB.</h4> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/037b.png"> +<img src="images/037b.png" width="100%" alt="The Captain" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>The Captain.</i> "<span class="sc">The bloomin' vice-president's forgot the +stumps. Young Bill 'ere better be the wicket—'e wants to play and 'e's +too little to bat agin swift bowlin'!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 75%"> +<a href="images/038a.png"> +<img src="images/038a.png" width="100%" alt="Native" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>Native</i> (<i>having seen his rival tipped by guileless +visitor</i>). "<span class="sc">'E's swindled yer, sir. I'm the oldest +inhabitant—ninety-four come Sunday three weeks. 'e's only a youngster +of eighty-two</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/038b.png"> +<img src="images/038b.png" width="100%" alt="Even in his play" /></a><br /><br /> +<center><span class="sc">Even in his play the scientist's child is scientific</span>.</center> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span><br /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/041.png"> +<img src="images/041.png" width="100%" alt="THE POLITICAL JUNGLE" /></a> +<h4>THE POLITICAL JUNGLE.</h4> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> + +<h2>A FULL JOY-DAY.</h2> + +<center>How an energetic visitor contrived to sample nearly all the attractions +of Worplethorpe-on-Sea (as advertised by the municipality) in the course +of a one-day's trip.</center> + +<div class="centered"> +<table summary="A FULL JOY-DAY"> +<tr><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/043a.png" width="300" height="269" alt="9 to 10.30" /> +<span class="caption"><i>9 to 10.30 <span class="sc">A.M.</span></i>—<span class="sc">Bathing and fishing.</span></span> +</div></td><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/043b.png" width="300" height="264" alt="10.30 to 12 (noon)" /> +<span class="caption"><i>10.30 <span class="sc">A.M.</span> to 12 (noon).</i>—<span class="sc">Shooting and cycling.</span></span> +</div></td></tr> + +<tr><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/043c.png" width="300" height="235" alt="12 to 1.30" /> +<span class="caption"><i>12 to 1.30 <span class="sc">P.M.</span></i>—<span class="sc">Tennis and botany.</span></span> +</div></td><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/043d.png" width="300" height="248" alt="3 to 4.30" /> +<span class="caption"><i>3 to 4.30 <span class="sc">P.M.</span></i>—<span class="sc">Croquet and archæology.</span> +</span></div></td></tr> + +<tr><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/043e.png" width="300" height="251" alt="4.30 to 6" /> +<span class="caption"><i>4.30 to 6 <span class="sc">P.M.</span></i>—<span class="sc">Golf and geology.</span></span> +</div></td><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/043f.png" width="300" height="243" alt="6 to 7.30" /> +<span class="caption"><i>6 to 7.30 <span class="sc">P.M.</span></i>—<span class="sc">Sketching and donkey-riding.</span></span> +</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span><hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/044a.png"> +<img src="images/044a.png" width="100%" alt="RACE-COURSE OF THE NEAR FUTURE" /></a> +<h4>RACE-COURSE OF THE NEAR FUTURE, SUFFRAGETTE-PROOF.</h4> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/044b.png"> +<img src="images/044b.png" width="100%" alt="Smith, who always wears the native costume" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">Smith, who always wears the native costume when fishing +in the highlands (his great-grand-aunt's step-father having been a +McGregor) finds the midges somewhat troublesome. A little ingenuity +however overcomes the difficulty.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> + +<h4>THE "SPASMO" CANOELET.</h4> + +<div class="centered"> +<table summary="SPASMO CANOELET"> +<tr><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/045a.png" width="300" height="342" alt="It is a reluctant starter" /> +<span class="caption"><span class="sc">It is a reluctant starter.</span></span> +</div></td> +<td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/045b.png" width="300" height="339" alt="When it does start" /> +<span class="caption"><span class="sc">When it <i>does</i> start, it starts.</span></span> +</div></td></tr> +<tr><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/045c.png" width="300" height="343" alt="It laughs at locks" /><br /><br /> +<span class="caption"><span class="sc">It laughs at locks.</span></span> +</div></td> +<td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/045d.png" width="300" height="359" alt="It ends as a hydro-aeroplane" /> +<span class="caption"><span class="sc">It ends as a hydro-aeroplane</span></span> +</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/046a.png"> +<img src="images/046a.png" width="100%" alt="THE EMANCIPATION OF THE EAST" /></a> +<h4>THE EMANCIPATION OF THE EAST.</h4> +<p><span class="sc">The Grand Vizier, a master of polygamy, regrets the vogue of the cinema +as an educative force.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/046b.png"> +<img src="images/046b.png" width="100%" alt="LUNCH SCORES" /></a> +<h4>LUNCH "SCORES."</h4> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> + +<div class="centered"> +<center><span class="sc">Complaints are heard from holiday-makers on their return that the +holiday has failed to benefit them. This is due to lack of preparatory +training at home.</span></center> + +<table summary="complaints"> +<tr><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/047a.png" width="300" height="378" alt="Harden the feet" /><br /><br /> +<span class="caption"><span class="sc">Harden the feet for Beach-walking.</span></span> +</div></td><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/047b.png" width="300" height="379" alt="Accustom the lungs" /><br /><br /> +<span class="caption"><span class="sc">Accustom the lungs to marine aromas</span>.</span> +</div></td></tr> +<tr><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/047c.png" width="300" height="385" alt="Prepare to receive the buffetings of Neptune" /><br /><br /> +<span class="caption"><span class="sc">Prepare to receive the buffetings of Neptune</span></span> +</div></td><td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/047d.png" width="300" height="385" alt="Toughen the interior" /><br /><br /> +<span class="caption"><span class="sc">Toughen the interior for a lodging-house diet</span>.</span> +</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> + +<h2>MR. PUNCH'S HOLIDAY FILM.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>[Having had the good fortune to pick up for a mere song (or, to be +more accurate, for a few notes) several thousand miles of discarded +cinema films from a bankrupt company, <i>Mr. Punch</i> is gumming the +best bits together and presenting them during the holiday season on +the piers of many of our fashionable watering-places, such as +Bayswater, Hackney Marshes and Ponder's End. The films comprise the +well-known "Baresark Basil, the Pride of the Ranch" (two miles +long), "The Foiler Foiled" (one mile, three furlongs, two rods, +poles or perches), "The Blood-stained Vest" (fragment—eighteen +inches), "A Maniac's Revenge" (5,000 feet), "The Life of the Common +Mosquito" (six legs), and so forth. An accomplished writer has been +chosen to weave a connected story round the selected parts of the +films, and his scenario of <i>Mr. Punch's</i> great picture play, when +finally gummed together, is given below. The illustrations depict a +few representative incidents in the story—taken from the +sketch-book of an artist who was present when the films were first +being prepared.]</p></blockquote> + +<p>Twenty-five years before our film opens, Andrew Bellingham, a young man +just about to enter his father's business, was spending a holiday in a +little fishing village in Cornwall. The daughter of the sheep-farmer +with whom he lodged was a girl of singular beauty, and Andrew's youthful +blood was quickly stirred to admiration. Carried away by his passion for +her, he—</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<span class="sc">Manager of Punch Film Company.</span> <i>Just a reminder that <span class="sc">Mr. Redford</span> +has to pass this before it can be produced.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p>—he married her—</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<span class="sc">Manager.</span> <i>Oh, I beg pardon.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p>—and for some weeks they lived happily together. One day he informed +Jessie that he would have to go back to his work in London, and that it +might be a year or more before he could acknowledge her openly as his +wife to his rich and proud parents. Jessie was prostrated with grief; +and late that afternoon her hat and fringe-net were discovered by the +edge of the waters. Realising at once that she must have drowned herself +in her distress, Andrew took an affecting farewell of her father and the +sheep, and returned to London. A year later he married a distant cousin, +and soon rose to a condition of prosperity. At the time our film begins +to unwind, he was respected by everybody in the City, a widower, and the +father of a beautiful girl of eighteen, called Hyacinth.</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<span class="sc">Manager.</span> <i>Now we're off. What do we start with?</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<center>I.</center> + +<p>On the sunny side of Fenchurch Street—</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<span class="sc">Manager.</span> <i>Ah, then I suppose we'd better keep back the Rescue from +the Alligator and the Plunge down Niagara in a Barrel.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p>—Andrew Bellingham was dozing in his office. Suddenly he awoke to find +a strange man standing over him.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" asked Mr. Bellingham. "What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"My name is Jasper," was the answer, "and I have some information to +give you." He bent down and hissed, "<i>Your first wife is still alive!</i>"</p> + +<p>Andrew started up in obvious horror. "My daughter," he gasped, "my +little Hyacinth! She must never know."</p> + +<p>"Listen. Your wife is in Spain—</p> + +<blockquote>[<span class="sc">Manager.</span> <i>Don't waste her. Make it somewhere where there are +sharks.</i></blockquote> + +<blockquote><span class="sc">Author.</span> <i>It's all right, she's dead really.</i>]</blockquote> + +<p>—and she will not trouble you. Give me a thousand pounds, and you shall +have these;" and he held out a packet containing the marriage +certificate, a photograph of Jessie's father dipping a sheep, a +receipted bill for a pair of white gloves, size 9½, two letters +signed "Your own loving little Andy Pandy," and a peppermint with "Jess" +on it in pink. "Once these are locked up in your safe, no one need never +know that you were married in Cornwall twenty-five years ago."</p> + +<p>Without a moment's hesitation Mr. Bellingham took a handful of +bank-notes from his pocket-book, and the exchange was made. At all costs +he must preserve his little Hyacinth from shame. Now she need never +know. With a forced smile he bowed Jasper out, placed the packet in his +safe and returned to his desk.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/048a.png"> +<img src="images/048a.png" width="100%" alt="The Theft" /></a> +<h4>The Theft.</h4> +</div> + +<p>But his mysterious visitor was not done with yet. As soon as the door +had closed behind him Jasper re-entered softly, drugged Andrew hastily, +and took possession again of the compromising documents. By the time Mr. +Bellingham had regained his senses the thief was away. A hue-and-cry was +raised, police whistles were blown, and Richard Harrington, Mr. +Bellingham's private secretary, was smartly arrested.</p> + +<p>At the trial things looked black against<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> Richard. He was poor and he +was in love with Hyacinth; the chain of evidence was complete. In spite +of his impassioned protest from the dock, in spite of Hyacinth's +dramatic swoon in front of the solicitors' table, the judge with great +solemnity passed sentence of twenty years' penal servitude. A loud +"Hear, hear" from the gallery rang through the court, and, looking up, +Mr. Bellingham caught the sardonic eye of the mysterious Jasper.</p> + +<center>II.</center> + +<p>Richard had been in prison a month before the opportunity for his escape +occurred. For a month he had been hewing stone in Portland, black +despair at his heart. Then, like lightning, he saw his chance and took +it. The warders were off guard for a moment. Hastily lifting his +pickaxe——</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<span class="sc">Manager.</span> <i>Sorry, but it's a spade in the only prison film we've +got.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/048c.png"> +<img src="images/048c.png" width="100%" alt="The Escape" /></a> +<h4>The Escape.</h4> +</div> + +<p>Hastily borrowing a spade from a comrade who was digging potatoes, he +struck several of his gaolers down, and, dodging the shots of others who +hurried to the scene, he climbed the prison wall and dashed for freedom.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/048b.png"> +<img src="images/048b.png" width="100%" alt="The Abduction" /></a> +<h4>The Abduction.</h4> +</div> + +<p>Reaching Weymouth at nightfall, he made his way to the house which +Hyacinth had taken in order to be near him, and, suitably disguised, +travelled up to London with her in the powerful motor which she had kept +ready. "At last, my love, we are together," he murmured as they neared +Wimbledon. But he had spoken a moment too soon. An aeroplane swooped +down upon them, and Hyacinth was snatched from his arms and disappeared +with her captors into the clouds.</p><br /><br /> + +<center>III.</center> + +<p>Richard's first act on arriving in London was to go to Mr. Bellingham's +house. Andrew was out, but a note lying on his study carpet, "<i>Meet me +at the Old Windmill to-night</i>," gave him a clue. On receipt of this note +Andrew had gone to the <i>rendezvous</i>, and it was no surprise to him when +Jasper stepped out and offered to sell him a packet containing a +marriage certificate, a photograph of an old gentleman dipping a sheep, +a peppermint lozenge with "Jess" on it, and various other documents for +a thousand pounds.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 25%"> +<a href="images/049a.png"> +<img src="images/049a.png" width="100%" alt="The Duel at the Mill" /></a> +<h4>The Duel at the Mill.</h4> +</div> +<p>"You villain," cried Andrew, "even at the trial I suspected you," and he +rushed at him fiercely.</p> + +<p>A desperate struggle ensued. Breaking free for a moment from the +vice-like grip of the other, Jasper leapt with the spring of a panther +at one of the sails of the windmill as it came round, and was whirled +upwards; with the spring of another panther, Andrew leapt on to the next +sail and was whirled after him. At that moment the wind dropped, and the +combatants were suspended in mid-air.</p> + +<p>It was upon this terrible scene that Richard arrived. Already a crowd +was collecting; and, though at present it did not seem greatly alarmed, +feeling convinced that it was only assisting at another cinematograph +rehearsal, its suspicions might at any moment be aroused. With a shout, +he dashed into the mill. Seeing him coming Jasper dropped his revolver +and slid down the sail into the window. In a moment he reappeared at the +door of the mill with Hyacinth under his arm. "Stop him!" cried Richard +from underneath a sack of flour. It was no good. Jasper had leapt with +his fair burden upon the back of his mustang and was gone....</p> + +<p>The usual pursuit followed.</p> + +<center>IV.</center> + +<p>It was the gala night at the Royal Circus. Ricardo Harringtoni, the +wonderful new acrobat of whom everybody was talking, stood high above +the crowd on his platform. His marvellous performance on the swinging +horizontal bar was about to begin. Richard Harrington (for it was he) +was troubled. Since he had entered on his new profession—as a disguise +from the police who were still searching for him—he had had a vague +suspicion that the lion-tamer was dogging him. <i>Who was the lion-tamer?</i> +Could it be Jasper?</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/049b.png"> +<img src="images/049b.png" width="100%" alt="An Awkward Moment for Richard" /></a> +<h4>An Awkward Moment for Richard.</h4> +</div> + +<p>At that moment the band struck up and Richard leapt lightly on to the +swinging bar. With a movement full of grace he let go of the bar and +swung on to the opposite platform. And then, even as he was in mid-air, +he realized what was happening.</p> + +<p>Jasper had let the lion loose!</p> + +<p><i>It was waiting for him.</i></p> + +<p>With a gasping cry Ricardo Harrington fainted.</p><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<center>V.</center> + + + +<p>When he recovered consciousness, Richard found himself on the S.S. +<i>Boracic</i>, which was forging her way through the—-</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<span class="sc">Manager.</span>—<i>Somewhere where there are sharks.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p>—the Indian Ocean. Mr. Bellingham was bathing his forehead with cooling +drinks.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/049c.png"> +<img src="images/049c.png" width="100%" alt="The Rescue" /></a> +<h4>The Rescue. <i>[Inset—the Cinema Shark, 3s. 6d.]</i></h4> +</div> +<p>"Forgive me, my boy," said Mr. Bellingham, "for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> the wrong I did you. It +was Jasper who stole the compromising documents. He refuses to give them +back unless I let him marry Hyacinth. What can I do?"</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" asked Richard.</p> + +<p>"Hidden away no one knows where. Find her, get back the documents for +me, and she is yours."</p> + +<p>At that moment a terrible cry rang through the ship; "Man overboard!" +Pushing over Mr. Bellingham and running on deck, Richard saw that a +woman and her baby were battling for life in the shark-infested waters. +In an instant he had plunged in and rescued them. As they were dragged +together up the ship's side he heard her murmur, "Is little Jasper +safe?"</p> + +<p>"Jasper?" cried Richard.</p> + +<p>"Yes, called after his daddy."</p> + +<p>"Where is daddy now?" asked Richard hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"In America."</p> + +<p>"Can't you see the likeness?" whispered Richard to Mr. Bellingham. "It +must be. The villain is married to another. But now I will pursue him +and get back the papers." And he left the boat at the next port and +boarded one for America.</p> + +<center>VI.</center> + +<p>The search through North and South America for Jasper was protracted. +Accompanied sometimes by a band of cowboys, sometimes by a tribe of +Indians, Richard scoured the continent; for his enemy. There were hours +when he would rest awhile and amuse himself by watching the antics of +the common mosquito. [<span class="sc">Manager</span>. <i>Good!</i>] or he would lie at full length +and gaze at a bud bursting into flower [<span class="sc">Manager</span>. <i>Excellent!</i>]. Then he +would leap on to his steed and pursue the trail relentlessly once more.</p> + +<p>One night he was dozing by his camp-fire, when he was awakened roughly +by strong arms around his neck and Jasper's hot breath in his ear.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/050a.png"> +<img src="images/050a.png" width="100%" alt="Another Awkward Moment" /></a> +<h4>Another Awkward Moment.</h4> +</div> + +<p>"At last!" cried Jasper, and, knocking Richard heavily on the head with +a boot, he picked up his unconscious enemy and carried him to a +tributary of the Amazon noted for its alligators. Once there he tied him +to a post in mid-stream and rode hastily off to the nearest town, where +he spent the evening witnessing the first half of <i>The Merchant of +Venice</i>. [<span class="sc">Manager.</span> <i>Splendid!</i>] But in the morning a surprise awaited +him. As he was proceeding along the top of a lonely cliff he was +confronted suddenly by the enemy whom he had thought to kill.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/050b.png"> +<img src="images/050b.png" width="100%" alt="Over the Precipice" /></a> +<h4>Over the Precipice.</h4> +</div> + +<p>"Richard!" he cried, "escaped again!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Jasper, I have you."</p> + +<p>With a triumphant cry they rushed at each other; a terrible contest +ensued; and then Jasper, with one blow of his palm, hurled his adversary +over the precipice.</p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<center>VII.</center> + +<p>How many times the two made an end of each other after this the films +will show. Sometimes Jasper sealed Richard in a barrel and pushed him +over Niagara; sometimes Richard tied Jasper to a stake, and set light to +him; sometimes they would both fall out of a balloon together. But the +day of reckoning was at hand.</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<span class="sc">Manager.</span> <i>We've only got the Burning House and the 1913 Derby +left.</i></p> + +<p><span class="sc">Author.</span> <i>Right.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/050c.png"> +<img src="images/050c.png" width="100%" alt="Richard Recovers the Letters" /></a> +<h4>Richard Recovers the Letters.</h4> +</div> + +<p>It is the evening of the 3rd of June. A cry rends the air suddenly, +whistles are blowing, there is a rattling of horses' hoofs. "Fire! +Fire!" Richard, who was passing Soho Square at the time, heard the cry +and dashed into the burning house. In a room full of smoke he perceived +a cowering woman. Hyacinth! To pick her up was the work of a moment, but +how shall he save her? Stay! The telegraph wire! His training at the +Royal Circus stood him in good stead. Treading lightly on the swaying +wire he carried Hyacinth across to the house opposite.</p> + +<p>"At last, my love," he breathed.</p> + +<p>"But the papers," she cried. "You must get them, or father will not let +you marry me."</p> + +<p>Once more he treads the rocking wire; once more he re-crosses, with the +papers on his back. Then the house behind him crumbles to the ground, +with the wicked Jasper in its ruins.</p> + +<center>VIII.</center> + +<p>"Excellent," said Mr. Bellingham at dinner that evening. "Not only are +the papers here, but a full confession by Jasper. My first wife was +drowned all the time; he stole the documents from her father. Richard, +my boy, when the Home Secretary knows everything he will give you a free +pardon. And then you can marry my daughter."</p> + +<p>At these words Hyacinth and Richard were locked in a close embrace. On +the next day they all went to the Derby together.</p> + +<p class="author">A. A. M.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 55%"> +<a href="images/051.png"> +<img src="images/051.png" width="100%" alt="A MASTERPIECE IN THE MAKING" /></a> +<h4>A MASTERPIECE IN THE MAKING.</h4> +<p><span class="sc">Lord Lansdowne</span> (<i>Art Dealer, to Mr. <span class="sc">Asquith</span></i>). "YES, I QUITE SEE YOUR +IDEA—A FIGURE OF PEACE; BUT, SINCE YOU INVITE SUGGESTIONS FROM ME, I +SHOULD SAY THAT THE ADDITION OF A FEW RECOGNISABLE SYMBOLS, SUCH AS A +PAIR OF WINGS, OR A DOVE, OR AN OLIVE-BRANCH, MIGHT HELP TO MAKE IT +CORRESPOND MORE CLEARLY WITH MY PUBLIC'S NOTION OF THE GODDESS IN +QUESTION."</p> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<center>(<span class="sc">Extracted From the Diary of Toby, M.P.</span>)</center> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, June 29.</i>—Curious how the Labour Party, who +the other day, joining hands with the Conservatives, nearly threw the +Government out, lead the way in sartorial fashion. Since <span class="sc">Don't Keir +Hardie</span>, home from the storied East, presented himself in a reach-me-down +suit of white drill such as is worn aboard ship in the Red Sea, nothing +has created such sensation as the dropping in this afternoon of Mr. +<span class="sc">Hodge</span>, arrayed in a summer suit. It was not, as some might have +expected, the simple garment of the elder branch of his honourable +family. No. It was not a smock such as <span class="sc">Frank Lockwood</span> pictured <span class="sc">Bobby +Spencer</span> wearing when he made his historic declaration, "I am not an +agricultural labourer." <span class="sc">Hodge</span> (Gorton Div., Lancs., Lab.), as <i>The +Times'</i> parliamentary report has it, burst upon the attention of a +crowded House at Question-time got up in wondrous garment, white in the +foundation of colour, but relieved from the crude hardness of <span class="sc">Don't Keir +Hardie's</span> suit by what suggested dexterous process of patting and lightly +smearing with a mustard-spoon. A Trilby hat crowned and accentuated +this creation.</p> + +<p>As the vision crossed the Bar Members sat silent, gazing upon it with +lips slightly parted. Similarly, upon a peak in Darien, stout <span class="sc">Cortez</span> +stared at the Pacific.</p> + +<p>Silence was broken by a burst of hearty cheering, in which the keen ear +detected a slightly discordant note. Whilst Members were frankly +disposed to applaud the boldness of what I believe purveyors of new +models of female dress call the "confection," whilst they were lost in +admiration of its effect, there was a feeling of disappointment that +they had not thought of it themselves, and been the first to enter the +field.</p> + +<p>Thanks to the genius of <span class="sc">Frank Lockwood</span> a former House was able to +realise the figure presented by the present. Earl <span class="sc">Spencer</span>, whilst still +with us in the Commons, skipping along in the purity of a Monday morning +smock, carrying in his right hand a garlanded pitchfork. What the +present House, jaded with a succession of Budgets and the persistence of +the Ulster question, would like to see is the entrance of those twin +brethren, Lord <span class="sc">Castlereagh</span> and Earl <span class="sc">Winterton</span>, walking arm-in-arm, +arrayed in garb approaching as nearly as possible that which, thanks to +Mr. <span class="sc">Hodge</span>, this afternoon illuminated the Legislative Chamber.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/053a.png"> +<img src="images/053a.png" width="100%" alt="EXTRY SPESHUL!" /></a> +<h4>"EXTRY SPESHUL!"</h4> +</div> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—<span class="sc">Chancellor of Exchequer</span> announced third edition of +Budget. "Before the end of the week," said <span class="sc">Sark</span>, "I expect we shall meet +him running up and down the Terrace with hand to widely-opened mouth +shouting "Extry Speshul!"</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—<span class="sc">Amery</span> began to think he had escaped consequences of his +little mistake. Nearly a week has sped since he called attention to +indiscretion of Captain <span class="sc">Bellingham</span>, <i>aide-de-camp</i> to the +<span class="sc">Lord-Lieutenant</span>, who, reviewing small body of Nationalist volunteers, +enjoined them to stand fast by cause of Home Rule. From answer of <span class="sc">Chief +Secretary</span> it appeared that Member for South Birmingham had been +forestalled by Lord <span class="sc">Aberdeen</span>, who had called upon the Captain for +explanation and received suitable apology for the error.</p> + +<p>Irish Members quick to see opening innocently made for them. Having long +regarded with resentment Lord <span class="sc">Londonderry's</span> active patronage of +movements of Ulster volunteers, have sedulously sought opportunity of +bringing it under notice of House. <span class="sc">Amery</span> obligingly provided it. +Unexpected delay in seizing it was due to search for particulars now +presented in form of question addressed to <span class="sc">Premier</span>, citing with dates +and places six separate occasions when the <i>aide-de-camp</i> to the <span class="sc">King</span> +had, by his presence and counsel, sanctioned reviews of Ulster +volunteers, "whose avowed object," as the question put it, "is, in event +of enactment of Home Rule Bill, to resist by armed force the authority +of the Crown and Parliament, and to make the administration of the law +impossible." What Mr. <span class="sc">Devlin</span>, with studied politeness, was anxious to +know was "whether there is any special reason why in this matter the +Marquis of <span class="sc">Londonderry</span> should be treated differently from Captain +<span class="sc">Bellingham</span>?"</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Premier</span> not to be drawn into the controversy. Duties of <i>aide-de-camp</i> +to the <span class="sc">King</span>, unlike those of <i>aide-de-camp</i> to <span class="sc">Lord</span>-<span class="sc">Lieutenant</span>, are, he +said, of entirely honorary character. In such circumstances he did not +think it worth while to take notice of the matter.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/053b.png"> +<img src="images/053b.png" width="100%" alt="Lord Morley" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>Lord <span class="sc">Morley</span>. </i>"Thanks, I won't trouble you; I still +have a crust left."</p><br /> +<p>["The noble marquis seemed to regard the Government as a shipwrecked +mariner—I presume a pirate. If I am a pirate he is the last man to whom +I should think of applying for aid, unless the distress was dire +indeed."</p> +<p><i>Lord <span class="sc">Morley</span></i>.]</p> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> + +<p>Effect of the reply designedly chilling; object of question attained by +publicly submitting it. <span class="sc">Amery</span> "wishes he hadn't spoke."</p> + +<p>The <span class="sc">Premier's</span> imperturbability stood him in even greater stead at later +proceedings. On going into Committee of Supply, <span class="sc">Hope</span> of Sheffield moved +reduction of his salary on account of alleged failure to take necessary +steps to maintain high standard of single-minded disinterestedness in +public service. Though nominally concerned with the <span class="sc">Premier</span> and the +public service <span class="sc">Hope</span> told a flattering tale which was a thinly veiled +attack on that meek personage the <span class="sc">Chancellor of the Exchequer</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Archer-Shee</span>, who followed, was less circuitous in his retrograde march +on old Marconi quarters. Soon had Committee in state of uproar vainly +combated by those champions of order, <span class="sc">Winterton, Arthur Markham</span> and +<span class="sc">Swift MacNeill</span>. <span class="sc">Winterton</span>, whilst constitutionally forceful, was +irresistibly irrelevant. Member for Pontefract venturing to offer an +observation, <span class="sc">Winterton</span> shouted, "Order, pigeons!"</p> + +<p>Of course there were no pigeons about. An active mind, quick to seize a +point, had harked back to <span class="sc">Dick Turpin Booth's</span> ride to Yorkshire in a +race with carrier pigeons.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Markham</span> denounced <span class="sc">Archer-Shee</span> for delivering "a low attack that could +not be answered." Accusation summarised by other Members with yell of +"Coward!"</p> + +<p>As for <span class="sc">Swift MacNeill</span>, <span class="sc">Archer-Shee</span> presuming to rise simultaneously with +one of his many upgettings, he turned upon him and roared, "Sit down, +Sir!" Gallant Major so terrified that he incontinently fell back in his +seat.</p> + +<p>To general discussion Members from various quarters of House contributed +the observations, "Dirty lies!" "Coward!" "Caddish!" "Unspeakably low!" +"Shut up!" Only for coolness, courage and prompt decision of <span class="sc">Whitley</span> in +the Chair discreditable scene would have worthily taken its place among +others that smirch pages of Parliamentary record. Having occupied two +hours of time assumed to be valuable it died out from sheer exhaustion. +On division what was avowedly vote of censure on <span class="sc">Premier</span> negatived by +majority of 152.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Summer storm in Committee of Supply.</p> + +<p><i>House of Lords, Thursday.</i>—Second night of debate on Amending Bill to +modify a measure not yet enacted. House crowded, evidently weighed down +by a sense of direct responsibility at grave crisis. <i>Le brave</i> +<span class="sc">Willoughby de Broke</span> has no patience with attitude of noble lords on +Front Opposition Bench. Is congenitally prone to take a short way with +dissenters. Came to the fore five years ago, when what <span class="sc">Haldane</span> called +<span class="sc">Lloyd George's</span> first great Budget (eclipsed by his second) fell like a +bomb in the Parliamentary arena. Whilst elder peers were disposed to +temporise in view of constitutional difficulty, <span class="sc">Willoughby</span> had only +three words to say—"Throw it out!"—<span class="sc">Milner</span> adding a fearless remark +about the consequences whose emphasis has been excelled only by Mrs. +<span class="sc">Patrick Campbell</span> in <i>Pygmalion</i>. So the Budget was shattered on the rock +of the House of Lords, and in swift reprisal with it went the supremacy +of that ancient institution.</p> + +<p>Less effectual in his resistance to the Parliament Act which promptly +followed, <span class="sc">De Broke</span> is insistent upon treating the Amending Bill as the +Budget of 1909 was treated. Has moved its rejection and, in spite of +<span class="sc">Halsbury</span>, threatens to go to a division.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile <span class="sc">Lansdowne</span>, in weighty speech worthy great occasion, announces +intention of voting for Second Reading of Bill, with intent to amend it +in Committee. Originally planned that division should be taken to-night. +So many peers have something to say that it is postponed till Monday.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Debate on Amending (Home Rule) Bill continued.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%"> +<a href="images/054.png"> +<img src="images/054.png" width="60%" alt="FRESH AIR FUND" /></a> +<h4>THE "FRESH AIR FUND": AN APPRECIATION.</h4> +<p><span class="sc">"There, now, ain't that a treat, Billy? There ain't no country in the +world I like so much as England."</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE NEW PROFESSIONAL HUMILITY.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>["I have always held a decided opinion that the less people trouble +themselves about literature the better for them."—<i>M. <span class="sc">Pierre Loti</span></i> +(vide "<i>Daily Chronicle.")</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Sir <span class="sc">Thomas Lipton</span>.</i> How can a tea-drinking people hope to lift the Cup? +Tannin is a poison fatal to the true sportsman.</p> + +<p><i>The <span class="sc">Chancellor of the Exchequer.</span></i> The interest taken in politics +diverts attention from everything that really matters.</p> + +<p><i>The <span class="sc">Poet Laureate.</span></i> Poetry is not only a drug on the market, it is a +drug that narcotises and debilitates all true manhood.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. <span class="sc">Eustace H. Miles</span>.</i> Vegetarianism is fit only for pigs. The noble +king of the forest is a meat-eater.</p> + +<p><i>Lord <span class="sc">Roberts</span>.</i> The military bias is the only obstacle to peace.</p> + +<p><i>Mme. <span class="sc">Clara Butt.</span></i> The human voice was given us for fish-hawking and +encouraging football-players, not for singing.</p> + +<p><i>Sir H. <span class="sc">Beerbohm Tree</span>.</i> I cannot think why anyone goes to the theatre. +It bores me horribly.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. <span class="sc">H. G. Wells</span>.</i> The past alone possesses interest for intelligent +men.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. <span class="sc">G. K. Chesterton</span>.</i> Orthodoxy, it has been said, is my doxy; +heterodoxy is other people's doxy; but paradoxy is the devil's doxy.</p> + +<p><i>Sir <span class="sc">E. Elgar</span>.</i> Music? How can any serious man fiddle while Home is +burning?</p> + +<p><i>Sir <span class="sc">E. J. Poynter</span>.</i> The Royal Academy is crushing the life out of +English Art. The country's only hope is in Cubism.</p> + +<p><i>Signor <span class="sc">Marinetti</span>.</i> Your Royal Academy is the true Temple of Art. I +never cross its threshold without first removing my sandals.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>A Record Cast.</h4> + +<blockquote>"A 3 lb. 15 oz. chub has been taken at Abingdon by Mr. A. Owen near +Henley."</blockquote> + +<p class="author"><i>Field.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/055.png"> +<img src="images/055.png" width="100%" alt="Why should not persevering Peter of the push-bike adopt" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><span class="sc">Why should not persevering Peter of the push-bike adopt, +when travelling, the same supercilious attitude as languid Lionel of the +touring-car de luxe</span>.</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE JESTING OF JANE.</h2> + +<center>(<i>In which it is explained how competent I am to keep the servants in +their places even when their mistress is away.</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">I like a good practical joke; as the garland adorning</p> +<p class="i2">The hair of a maiden it shines, as the balm that is shed</p> +<p class="i0">On the brain of a wandering minstrel; it comes without warning,</p> +<p class="i2">Transmuting to gold an existence that once was as lead.</p> +<p class="i4">It glads, it rejoices the soul; recollecting it after</p> +<p class="i4">One well-nigh explodes; but I say there are seasons for laughter,</p> +<p class="i0">And, like other great men, I am not at my best in the morning</p> +<p class="i10">When just out of bed.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">So it was that last week, when the pitiless glare of Apollo</p> +<p class="i2">Was toasting the lawn till it looked like a segment of mat,</p> +<p class="i0">When I came to my breakfast at length from a lingering wallow</p> +<p class="i2">In a bath that professed to be cold—as I moodily sat</p> +<p class="i4">And observed how the heat on the pavements was momently doubling,</p> +<p class="i4">And hated the coffee for looking so brown and so bubbling,</p> +<p class="i0">And hated my paper, which seemed to expect me to follow</p> +<p class="i10">A prize-fight (my hat!)—</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">When I heard a great noise as though heaven was breaking asunder,</p> +<p class="i2">And "Thanks be to glory," said I, "for this merciful dole;</p> +<p class="i0">The rain! the beneficent rain! Will it lighten, I wonder?</p> +<p class="i2">I need not pack up, after all, for my cruise to the Pole;"</p> +<p class="i4">And my spirits revived and my appetite seemed to awaken,</p> +<p class="i4">And I said so to Jane as she brought in the kidneys and bacon;</p> +<p class="i0">I was vexed when she answered me pertly, "Why, that isn't thunder;</p> +<p class="i10">We're taking in coal!"</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">I say there <i>are</i> limits. The girl may be decent and sunny,</p> +<p class="i2">Industrious, sober and what not; I don't care a bit;</p> +<p class="i0">But she hasn't a right on a day such as that to be funny,</p> +<p class="i2">With the glass at 120, confound her, the chit!</p> +<p class="i4">I refuse to submit to the whimsical wheeze of a servant</p> +<p class="i4">Just because Araminta's away and the weather is fervent,</p> +<p class="i0">So I said to her, "Wench, do you fancy you're taking my money</p> +<p class="i10">For work or for wit?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"What are parlourmaids coming to now with their insolent banter?</p> +<p class="i2">Command those uproarious ruffians to hop it, to <i>trek</i></p> +<p class="i0">And fetch me a siphon or two and the whisky decanter;</p> +<p class="i2">Your notions of humour have left me exhausted and weak;</p> +<p class="i4">Take the breakfast away; disappointment has vanquished my hunger,</p> +<p class="i4">And afterwards go out at once to the nearest fishmonger</p> +<p class="i0">And order two cart-loads of icebergs. Obey me <i>instanter</i>,</p> +<p class="i10">Or leave in a week."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Evoe.</span></p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Although weighing over 13 tons, Glendinning declares that an<br /> +aircraft built from his designs could sail round the world without the<br /> +slightest danger of calamity."—<i>Glasgow Herald.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Subject for Silly Season—Should Stout Men Boast?</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> + +<h2>RUBBING IT IN.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>The following article appears to have been intended for a popular +Halfpenny Daily, but as it has been sent to us we feel entitled to +print it.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<h4>TERRIFIC STRUGGLE.</h4> + +<center><span class="sc">Mr. Lowly<br /> defeats Mr. Gorman Crawl.</span></center><br /><br /> + +<center><span class="sc">How I did It. By Ferdinand Lowly</span>.</center> + +<p>Mr. Gorman Crawl's efforts to avoid defeat in his match with me in the +semi-finals of the Dartmoor and West Dorset Championship was, I think, +the finest exhibition of Lawn Tennis that has been seen for many a long +day, and I congratulate those who were so fortunate as to witness the +game. In the second set particularly, Mr. Crawl's play exhibited a +consistent accuracy combined with activity of resource and hard hitting +which, so far as I am aware, has rarely been equalled in the history of +the pastime. He frequently returned drives down the side lines and cross +volleys which I have always regarded as untakable, putting me in the +position of having to repeat those strokes several times before I could +make the ace. Even in the third set, Mr. Crawl certainly did not lose +heart, as many might have done; in fact he gained vigour to such an +extent that his play in the last games became not merely impetuous, but +frenzied. Had I not possessed an iron nerve, Mr. Gorman Crawl might have +snatched a game or two; and I feel sorry for my opponent when I recall +that he only made five points in the set, one of which was due to a net +cord stroke, and another to my accidentally treading on a ball. The +final scores, as set forth in the "Stop Press" columns of one of the +evening papers, were as follows:—</p> + +<center>"Crawl beat Lowly ... 6—0. 6—0. 6—0,"</center> + +<p>and if the reader reverses the statement he will know the correct +result. Mr. Gorman Crawl, after an exhibition which stultifies previous +conceptions of what is possible in the way of offensive and defensive +tactics, and which refutes once and for all the leading contentions in +Mr. Wail's monumental work on the game, was beaten by me in three love +sets.</p> + +<p>The game opened by my serving a double fault. I then found that I was +using my Thursday's racket instead of Tuesday's. After a brief recess, +during which, as I am informed, Mr. Gorman Crawl took in his belt one +hole, the game proceeded. I served to my opponent's back hand, but, +contrary to all rules laid down by Mr. Wail, he unexpectedly returned +the ball to <i>my</i> back hand. The result was that I failed to reach it. It +then occurred to me that I ought to make sure I had no gravel in my +shoes. I did this without leaving the court. When I had replaced my +footwear and was preparing to serve again, I saw that Mr. Gorman Crawl +was lying on the ground, apparently asleep. He started up, however, on +the score being called a second time, and the game proceeded.</p> + +<p>Noticing that my opponent was standing a long way back, I now made a +display of hitting the ball hard and then dropped it just over the net. +Mr. Crawl did not notice what was happening till too late, and I not +only took the ace but had the satisfaction of noticing that my opponent +was breathing hard after his fruitless effort to reach the ball. I had, +so to speak, drawn first blood. I repeated the ruse with my next +service. Mr. Crawl, being now on the alert, reached the ball, but was +unable to stop himself, and charged into the net, and the score was +called "thirty all." A third time I brought off a drop serve; the ball +was returned and I then tossed it with an undercut stroke to the base +line. Mr. Crawl ran back, but the ball bounding high and with a strong +break he lost sight of it, and after some intricate manœuvres, in +which he had the advantage of advice from the crowd, it eventually fell +on his head, and I scored the ace. I had now only to make one point to +reach the game, and I effected this by a high-kicking service that left +my opponent petrified.</p> + +<p>During the set Mr. Crawl gradually got into his game, and, thanks to a +strong instinct of self-preservation, he succeeded in returning, when up +at the net, many of my drives at his chest and head which I had thought +were sure of their mark. His play in the last rally, when the score +stood at "5 games to 0 and 40 love" in my favour, called forth loud +applause, and I had to do all I knew to prevent him winning an ace which +might have resulted in his eventually capturing the game.</p> + +<p>At this point an incident occurred which has been variously reported. +The facts are that, before embarking on the second set, Mr. Gorman Crawl +petitioned the referee that I should be required to remove my tie. The +tie referred to is my well-known tennis tie. It is a Mascot, as I +associate all my successes on the court during the past four years with +this tie. It is a large scarlet bow with vivid green and white spots the +size of halfpenny pieces, arranged astigmatically. Mr. Crawl said the +cravat held his eye and put him off his game, and complained that there +were so many spots in front of him that he did not know which was the +ball. I am glad to be able to add the testimony of such a first string +man as Mr. Gorman Crawl to the merits of the "Lowly Patent Tennis Tie" +(Registered No. 273125/1911, price <i>2s. 9d.</i>, of all Gunsmiths and +Sports Outfitters). I explained to the referee that the tie was a +well-known patent and that, if he ruled it out and disqualified the tie, +a promising industry would be irretrievably ruined. The referee +naturally declined to take such a responsibility and ordered the game to +proceed, and we took our places on the course. When, however, I faced +Mr. Crawl I found that he had pulled down the sleeve of his shirt over +his hand and buttoned it round the handle of his racket. The effect was +most disconcerting, for the racket appeared to be part of his body—as +if, in fact, he had two elbow joints, and the face of the bat was the +palm of his hand. Moreover it was impossible to anticipate the direction +of his shots. When forty love had been scored against me I appealed to +the referee. The result of that interview was that M. Gorman Crawl +courteously unbuttoned his sleeve, and I with equal courtesy removed my +tie. The episode was greeted with loud applause, and for my part I felt +amply repaid for the sacrifice I had made by the gain in popularity.</p> + +<p>I have already referred to the strenuous character of Mr. Gorman Crawl's +efforts in this set. The following is the rally for the third ace in the +fifth game, given in the notation invented by Mr. Wail, though not yet +generally adopted. The diagram will be found in the third volume of Mr. +Wail's book, <i>How to be always right</i>.</p> + +<div class="centered">. +<table summary="results"> +<tr><td><span class="sc">Crawl.</span></td><td><span class="sc">Lowly</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td>1. RS to SL2.</td><td>1. BR1 to LK5.</td></tr> +<tr><td>2. LP3 to RT4.</td><td>2. KL to LK4.</td></tr> +<tr><td>3. PK4 to LK5. (Ch.) </td><td>4. K × R.</td></tr> +<tr><td>5. P × K.</td><td>5. B × P.</td></tr> +<tr><td>6. Resigns.<br /></td><td></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>At the conclusion of the match I shook hands with Mr. Gorman Crawl +across the net before he could leave the court, and loudly congratulated +him on his brilliant struggle. I now have to meet Mr. "U. R. Beete" in +the final round, and if successful my match for the Championship with +Mr. "Y. R. U. Sadd" will be played, weather permitting, on Tuesday at 3 +o'clock, and should be well worth seeing.</p> + +<h4><span class="sc">Notes.</span></h4> + +<p>Mr. Gasp has exchanged the cheese scoop, which is identified with the +championship of South Rutlandshire, for a fish-slice.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bloshclick, who lately won the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> South-West Devon Singles +Championship at Sidmouth, is not a native of Antananarivo, as has been +stated, but is, we are informed, of Zulu origin.</p> + +<p>We regret to report that Mr. Wail met with an unfortunate accident at +Broadstairs ten days ago. As a spectator at the annual Lawn Tennis +Tournament he was demonstrating to a group of experts the methods which +Mr. Wilding ought properly to employ in making his lifting forehand +drive, when he struck himself a violent blow on the head, partly +severing the right ear. This is the second time Mr. Wail has met with +the accident, but we are glad to hear that he is making a satisfactory +recovery.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/057.png"> +<img src="images/057.png" width="100%" alt="Tramp" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>Tramp</i> (<i>suddenly appearing at riverside camping +party</i>). "<span class="sc">Beg yer pardon, Guv'nor, but could yer lend me a bathin' +suit?</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Cigarette Makers (Female), round and flat."—<i>Advt. in "Daily +Chronicle."</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Who makes round cigarettes (or flat) should herself be round (or flat) +respectively.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="sc">Wanted</span>.—Anything old to do with the Church or Church Services; +preference given to examples with dates or inscriptions."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="author"><i>Advt. in "The Challenge."</i></p> + +<p>We were just going to offer our Vicar, but he has no inscription on him.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>PLATITUDES: THE NEW GAME.</h2> + +<p>It is based on "Bromides" and any one can play it. The least educated +has a chance of winning and an Oxford degree is no bar to success—quite +the reverse, in fact; indeed I have known dons....</p> + +<p>This is how it is played. Two people are seated in easy-chairs, for it +has been found that you cannot be too comfortable for this game; any +discomfort is apt to excite the mind, to disturb the grey matter, to +interfere with that complete repose which is so essential a feature of +the contest. These two are the players. They indulge in small talk and +the smaller talker wins. The object of each player is to make such +inanely conventional remarks that his opponent is reduced to silence. +For example you are sitting next to a bishop, and it falls to you to +start the conversation. Of course you don't say anything like "How sad +about this Kikuyu business." No, you open like this. "Are you fond of +dancing?" you say. The bishop will reply coldly, "It is many years since +I danced." You sigh and murmur, "Ah! the dear old days!" I cannot +imagine what his lordship will say next.</p> + +<p>Of course the conversation in Platitudes must be connected and coherent. +There is no use repeating "Wollah wollah, gollah gollah, <span class="sc">Asquith</span> must +go, We want eight," or things of that sort. And you must not make mere +blank statements like "The number of cigars annually imported into the +U.S.A. is 26,714,811," unless they can be introduced deftly into the +conversation.</p> + +<p>You must imagine yourself paying a call in a London drawing-room, and +you must say nothing that would not be possible and indeed suitable in +that <i>milieu</i>. To attempt to arouse any interest or show any +intelligence is wrong, but then neither must you betray any sign of +actual imbecility. Anything that approaches gibbering cannot be too +strongly condemned.</p> + +<p>The players speak in turn and quotations are not allowed (at least not +from living writers). The question as to whose talk is the smaller of +the two is so much a matter of taste that the game can only be decided +by an umpire or by the votes of the spectators. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> there is seldom +much doubt. It is not uncommon for one of the players to break down and +become almost hysterical, and few can hold out long against one of the +champions. Some people allow facial expression and general demeanour to +count, but this I do not recommend. It gives some an unfair advantage, +and I have known it lead to unpleasantness.</p> + +<p>Perhaps a short sample will give a better idea of the game than any +description. I take one from a little tournament in which I competed a +few days ago. I was highly commended, but it was thought I displayed a +little too much intelligence. This is one of the pleasing features of +Platitudes; when one loses, things like that are somehow said, as they +are never said, for instance, at Bridge. From this specimen the beginner +will learn the right style and method. Only by study of the best models +and by constant practice can he attain anything like proficiency.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> What a world we live in, do we not? (<i>This is a very common +opening.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> Yes, to be sure. Dear, dear!</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> The age is so complex, so full of rush and hurry. Everyone is +running after money, are they not?</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> They are not. I mean they are.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (<i>heaving a sigh</i>). How sad it is!</p> + +<p><i>She</i> (<i>in a tone of gentle correction</i>). It is deplorable. Did you read +Mr. Goldstein's speech the other day? I thought it so sweet! He said +that the possession of wealth entailed great responsibilities.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> How like him! (<i>After a pause</i>) And how true! Yes, things are in a +bad way.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> How one deplores these strikes.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (<i>sternly</i>). They ought to be shot.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> Too dreadful. I think it is so terrible when quite nice people +are positively inconvenienced. It makes one think of the French +Revolution.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Ah! Yes, the French Revolution. Well, well, the good old days are +gone.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> Yes, they have quite gone.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (<i>sighing heavily</i>). Dear, dear, dear, dear! May I have some +tea-cake?</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> Oh do! but I'm afraid they're cold.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> I like them cold. I think they are so much cooler then.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> They are a shade less warm.</p> + +<p>[<i>There was a short interval here when the supporters of each party +gathered round and gave advice and encouragement. The lady seemed as +fresh as a fiddle, but the man was very exhausted and had to have a +spirituous stimulant. After a quarter-of-an-hour's interval the game was +resumed.</i>]</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> Look at the fashionable ladies and their dogs! The sums they +lavish on them!</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Oh, it's disgraceful. The Government ought to do something.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> I call it wicked.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (<i>much struck with this</i>). You are quite right.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> But mind you, I'm fond of animals myself.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Oh, so am I. I dote on dogs. You know, I call the horse a noble +animal—that's what I call the horse.</p> + +<p><i>She</i> (<i>after a pause</i>). I call the camel the ship of the desert.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Ah, very witty, very clever. I see you have a sense of humour. +"Ship of the desert"—that's good.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> Yes, I don't know what I should have done without my sense of +humour.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> (<i>sharply</i>). No more do I.</p> + +<p><i>She</i> (<i>confidentially</i>). You know, I think dogs should be treated <i>as</i> +dogs. They should be kept in their proper places. I like them best in +the country, you know. Don't you?</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Yes. I think the country is the place for all animals. One sees so +many there—at least in some places.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> I am so fond of the country. It is so restful. The old oaks and +the buttercups and the village rector and the dear cows. I don't know +what we should do without them.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> That's what I say. Where would England be without the country?</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> Ah, yes. "Far from the madding crowd," as the poet says.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Yes. What a great poet <span class="sc">Milton</span> is, to be sure.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> Oh, delightful! And don't you like Miss <span class="sc">Wheeler Wilcox</span>?</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> Of course—ripping, yes, of course. Her poems of pleasure—her +poems of passion, her—well, in fact, all her poems.</p> + +<p><i>She.</i> Quite.</p> + +<p>At this point the man broke down altogether and began to gibber. But he +recovered in time to see the prize unanimously voted to the lady. This +consisted of a volume of Mr. —— but perhaps I had better not mention +names; it might be liable to misconstruction. I hope I have said enough +to show what a fascinating and delightful game it is. No appliances are +required (as with dominoes), except one's own nimble brain; and I think +Platitudes will soon sweep the country. Signs are not wanting that +Clumps and Dumb Crambo are already becoming back numbers in the best +circles.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"The military dirigible Koerting made the wound in the leg of Baron +de Rothschild. It was found to have flattened itself against the +bone."—<i>Egyptian Mail.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>"The Koerting; so it is," said the Baron, when shown the X-ray +photograph of his calf.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>TOURS IN FACT AND FANCY.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Tell me not of Western Islands</p> +<p class="i2">Or some bonnie loch or ben</p> +<p class="i0">Of those hustled haunts, the Highlands;</p> +<p class="i2">I'm not going there again.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Cease from cackling so cocksurely</p> +<p class="i2">Of some heavenly woodland dell</p> +<p class="i0">Where the pipes of Pan blow purely;</p> +<p class="i2">I have sampled these as well.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Do not harp upon your hollow</p> +<p class="i2">Tales of Somewhere-by-the-Sea</p> +<p class="i0">Patronised by Ph. Apollo;</p> +<p class="i2">'Tisn't good enough for me.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">No, nor urge me, friend, to hasten</p> +<p class="i2">To your "cloudless alien climes,"</p> +<p class="i0">Hungering for my Fleece like Jason—</p> +<p class="i2">I've been fleeced there many times.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">No, not one of your romances</p> +<p class="i2">Can, I say, provide a lure;</p> +<p class="i0">Not one spot on earth's expanses</p> +<p class="i2">For my ailment find a cure.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Others may enjoy each jolly day</p> +<p class="i2">Somewhere with their hard-earned pelf;</p> +<p class="i0">But, for me, I want a holiday</p> +<p class="i2">From my super-silly self.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>The Nut.</h4> + +<center>From a story in <i>Munsey's Magazine</i>:</center> + +<blockquote><p>"My father was a clergyman in a college community; and that explains +my home in a nutshell."</p></blockquote> + +<p>It doesn't. The father should have been a vegetarian in a Garden City +community.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"Captain Roald Amundsen has qualified for his pilot's certificate at +the military camp near Christiania. An officer of the Flying Corps +first took him for a preliminary flight round the course, showing +him what tests were required. Suddenly the elevator broke and the +aeroplane fell nose downwards to the ground 40 feet below. Captain +Amundsen escaped unhurt."—<i>South Wales Echo.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>So he got through the first test all right.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>"SMALL SURREY SCORE.</h4> + +<center>"<span class="sc">Only Hayes and Hitch Shine At Northampton</span>."</center> + +<p class="author"><i>Westminster Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>Surrey should have been at home, where <span class="sc">Hayes</span> and <span class="sc">Hitch</span> would have found +an excellent third in Old Sol, who shone at his best.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="sc">Clacton.</span>—A Lady would be glad to hear of anyone wishing to Join +House-Party from August 14th to September 10th. Minute from sea and +ten golf links."—<i>Advt. in "Times."</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Personally we find that, at our usual rate of divot-removing, five +golf-links will last us a month. Ten is an unnecessary extravagance.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/059.png"> +<img src="images/059.png" width="100%" alt="Polite little boy" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><i>Polite little boy</i> (<i>suffering from repletion</i>). "<span class="sc">Oh, +please Miss, don't ask me to have any more; I can't say no</span>."</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<center>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks</i>).</center> + +<p>I think I should have detected what was the primary Trouble with <i>A Lad +of Kent</i> (<span class="sc">Macmillan</span>) if Mr. <span class="sc">Herbert Harrison</span> had given me any +opportunity of studying <i>Lord Haresfield</i> at closer quarters. Upon the +material vouchsafed it was impossible to spot in him the villain of the +piece; I was only allowed to meet him at two brief interviews, +throughout which he was consistently courteous and kind, with nothing of +the murderer about him. There was, in this connection, not only +<i>suppressio veri</i>, but even some <i>suggestio falsi</i>; at any rate I still +have great difficulty in believing that a man so obviously intelligent +and diplomatic could have initiated schemes so unnecessarily elaborate +and entirely incompetent for the mere removal of an unknown and +fatherless village youth. I make these observations only as in duty +bound; for myself, I didn't care twopence who was trying to get rid of +<i>Phillip</i>, or why. Provided they didn't succeed, I was content to leave +them at it and enjoy the fascinating picture of life in a sea-coast +village in the good old days when everybody was busy either in +preventing or assisting the "free trade"; when a press-gang might come +along at any moment and steal a man or two without so much as by your +leave, and, generally speaking, things moved. Mr. <span class="sc">Harrison</span> has a +delightful style, a perfect sympathy with the times of which he writes, +and no small gift of characterization. Frankly, I don't believe he +attaches any more importance to his plot than I do, for he is quite +content to leave it to itself for several chapters on end.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>The Double House</i> (<span class="sc">Stanley Paul</span>) began attractively with a retired +Indian colonel who had a mysterious sorrow and wished to betake himself +to some quiet English hamlet "where echoes from his past might never +penetrate." Of course this could hardly be called wise of the Colonel; +the slightest knowledge of quiet English neighbourhoods in fiction or +the drama might have assured him that towards the end of Act I somebody +was simply bound to turn up who knew all. However, he rented one half of +a divided old manor house, and, even when informed that the other half +was inhabited by a widow of quiet habits, he apparently did not share my +own instant certainty that there were coincidences ahead. As a matter of +fact <span class="sc">E. Everett-Green</span>, the author, had so arranged matters that this +lady was the sister-in-law of a wicked murderer, for whose crime the +gallant <i>Colonel</i> had himself been tried. So much for his past; but as a +matter of fact that of the lady was ever so much more sinister. She had, +it appeared, married a gentleman called <i>Paul Enderby</i>, only to learn +after the ceremony that her husband had a twin-brother <i>Saul</i>, who must +have been the twinniest twin that ever breathed, since at no moment +could any living soul tell the two apart. I won't harrow you with +details, but the confusion was such that, even after the unlamented +decease of <i>Paul</i>, poor bewildered <i>Mrs. Enderby</i> was by no means sure +that she wasn't only a bereaved sister-in-law. Her sad plight reminded +me of nothing so much as that of the lady in <i>Engaged</i> who entreated to +have three questions answered: "Am I a widow, and if so how came I to be +a widow, and whose widow came I to be?" The great difference between the +two cases is that this of <i>Mrs. Enderby</i> is meant to be taken with +solemnity—a task that I regret to add was too heavy for me. I am only +sorry that so charming a title as <i>The Double House</i> has been so sadly +wasted.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>If a wicked male novelist had dared to write <i>Jacynth</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> (<span class="sc">Constable</span>) I +tremble to imagine the things that certain fair critics would have said +about him. But since a woman is the creator, and one, moreover, with the +well-won reputation of Miss <span class="sc">Stella Callaghan</span>, what is there to say? +After all she must know. As a portrait of futility, <i>Jacynth</i> is the +most mercilessly realistic thing that I have met for some time. Pretty, +brainless, egotistical, utterly unable ever to understand even the least +of the men who loved her—this was <i>Jacynth</i>. The picture is so +unsparing that (though I am not calling the book a masterpiece or free +from dull moments) the very completeness of the dreadful thing +fascinates you unwillingly. <i>Jacynth</i> was the typical product of a +seaside town, where she was adored by two men—a young squire and a +famous novelist. I was just a little bored by her beginnings, especially +when she sprained her ankle—a gambit I had imagined <i>démodé</i> even with +the most provincial of heroines. However, <i>Jacynth</i> married the +novelist, and after the honeymoon settled down to a steady course of +fatuousness and general interference with his work which presently +reduced the poor man to exasperation, and finally constrained him to +pack her off on a prolonged visit to the seaside home of her maidenhood. +After that <i>Jacynth</i> went from worse to worst; too preposterous a fool +even to be greatly moved when she brought tragedy into the lives of +those who came under her malign influence. I will not follow her +vicissitudes in detail. Throughout the book the most sinister thing in +her story was to me the fact that a woman had written it. Moreover I +have a lurking suspicion that the portrait is no imaginary one. Perhaps +this is a high tribute to Miss <span class="sc">Callaghan's</span> skill; it certainly is meant +to be a compliment to her courage.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">I've often longed to come upon</p> +<p class="i2">Some giant spoor and dog the track till</p> +<p class="i0">I ran to earth a mastodon,</p> +<p class="i2">A dinosaur, a pterodactyl;</p> +<p class="i0">But I supposed my natal date—</p> +<p class="i2">However distantly I view it—</p> +<p class="i0">Was several thousand years too late</p> +<p class="i2">To give me any chance to do it.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">And yet Sir <span class="sc">Arthur Conan Doyle</span></p> +<p class="i2">Has found a man who's penetrated</p> +<p class="i0">Through bush and swamp on virgin soil</p> +<p class="i2">And seen the things I've indicated,</p> +<p class="i0">Creatures with names that clog your pen—</p> +<p class="i2">Dimorphodon and plesiosaurus—</p> +<p class="i0">And carried home a specimen</p> +<p class="i2">To silence any doubting chorus.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">In <i>The Lost World</i><a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> the tale is told</p> +<p class="i2">(<span class="sc">Smith, Elder</span> do it cheap) in diction</p> +<p class="i0">So circumstantial that its hold</p> +<p class="i2">Is more than that of common fiction;</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">If you can run the story through,</p> +<p class="i2">By aid of portraits when you need it,</p> +<p class="i0">And not be half convinced it's true,</p> +<p class="i2">You simply don't deserve to read it.</p> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> New Edition, with illustrations.</p></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>There is nothing wrong with Mr. <span class="sc">Eden Phillpotts'</span> latest collection of +short stories, <i>The Judge's Chair</i> (<span class="sc">Murray</span>), but there is something +vigorously to protest against upon the wrapper that covers them. For +there I found an uncompromising statement to the effect that these +stories "bring to a conclusion the author's Dartmoor work," and no +sooner had I read it than my heart sank into my heels. Solemnly I plead +with him to reconsider this decision, for if he does not his innumerable +admirers will be deprived of something almost as annual and quite as +enjoyable as Christmas. If he wants a holiday let him have one by all +means, though personally I was not pleased when he left Dartmoor for +Italy. But let it be only a holiday, a break in his real business. As +for the book, I advise everyone who can appreciate dry humour and quaint +philosophy to sit behind <i>The Judge's Chair</i>. "The Two Farmers" is in +its way a masterpiece, grim and very real, and there is not the ghost of +a sign in the whole collection that Mr. <span class="sc">Phillpotts</span> has written of +Dartmoor until he is tired of it or it of him. He has made a niche for +himself in that old temple of Nature, and we must all try to persuade +him to stay there.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>I have been reading a book, written by the Rev. <span class="sc">H. S. Pelham</span>, and +published by <span class="sc">Macmillan</span>, which is at least twenty times as absorbing and +moving as any novel. It is called <i>The Training of a Working Boy</i>. I +daresay you may have met with other volumes on something like the same +theme before, and may suppose you know all about camps and evening +schools and blind-alley employment and the rest of it. But I am pretty +well sure that you have read nothing more practical and human on the +questions of boydom. It is, indeed, the humanity, sympathetic and more +than half humorous, of Mr. <span class="sc">Pelham's</span> attitude that gives his book its +appeal and incidentally, I fancy, explains his success with the object +of it. His little volume is a plea for personal rather than pecuniary +help, and is directed more especially to Midlanders, since its chief +concern is with the boy population of Birmingham. I can only wish for it +the largest possible number of readers in the shires and elsewhere, +since to read it is inevitably to be moved to active sympathy.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/060.png"> +<img src="images/060.png" width="100%" alt="This picture illustrates the deadly struggle" /></a><br /><br /> +<p><span class="sc">This picture illustrates the deadly struggle which goes +on daily between rival seaside resorts. It represents a party of +hirelings in the pay of Wobblethorpe-on-Sea engaged in running up the +rainfall of Little Blinkington.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + + +<blockquote><p>"The selection of a player for the leading <i>rôle</i>, that of Pallas +Athene, the beautiful goddess of Greek mythology, was successfully +accomplished when Miss Genevieve Clark, the pretty and vivacious +daughter of Speaker Clark, consented to take the part. Those who +know Miss Clark and Greek mythology will realise at once that there +will be a natural affinity between the player and the character."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="author"><i>Washington (D. C.) Post.</i></p> + +<p>We never actually met Pallas Athene, but have always heard of her as +being neither very pretty nor vivacious.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. +147, July 8, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, JULY 8, 1914 *** + +***** This file should be named 29217-h.htm or 29217-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/1/29217/ + +Produced by Neville Allen, Hagay Giller, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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, July 8, 1914 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 24, 2009 [EBook #29217] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, JULY 8, 1914 *** + + + + +Produced by Neville Allen, Hagay Giller, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + PUNCH, + + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + + VOLUME 147 + + July 8, 1914 + + CHARIVARIA. + +LORD BRASSEY is said to be annoyed at the way in which his recent +adventure at Kiel was exaggerated. He landed, it seems, on the mole of +the Kaiser Dockyard, not noticing a warning to trespassers--and certain +of our newspapers proceeded at once to make a mountain out of the mole. + + * * * + +Mr. ROOSEVELT'S American physician, Dr. ALEXANDER LAMBERT, has confirmed +the advice of his European physicians that the EX-PRESIDENT must have +four months' rest and must keep out of politics absolutely for that +period; and it is said that President WILSON is also of the opinion that +the distinguished invalid owes it to his country to keep quiet for a +time. + + * * * + +At the farewell banquet to Lord GLADSTONE members of the Labour Unions +surrounded the hotel and booed loudly with a view to making the speeches +inaudible. As the first serious attempt to protect diners from an orgy +of oratory this incident deserves recording. + + * * * + +There appear to have been some amusing misfits in the distribution of +prizes at the recent Midnight Ball. For example a young lady of +pronounced sobriety, according to _The Daily Chronicle_, secured a case +of whisky and went about asking if she could get it changed for perfume. +Whisky is, of course, essentially a man's perfume. + + * * * + +There are One Woman Shows as well as One Man Shows in these days. An +invitation to be present at a certain function in connection with a +certain charitable institution announces:-- + +"ATHLETIC SPORTS AND DISTRIBUTION OF PRIZES by LADY ---- ----." + + * * * + +Some surprise is being expressed in non-legal circles that the actress +who lost the case which she brought against SANDOW, LIMITED, for +depicting her as wearing one of their corsets, did not apply for stays +of execution. + + * * * + +Quite a number of our picture galleries are now closed, and it has been +suggested that, with the idea of reconciling the public to this state of +affairs, there shall be displayed conspicuously at the entrance to the +buildings the reminder, "_Ars est celare artem_." + + * * * + +_The Gentlewoman_, by the way, which is publishing a series of articles +entitled "Woman's Work at the 1914 Academy," omits to show us photos of +Mr. SARGENT'S and Mr. CLAUSEN'S paintings after certain women had worked +upon them. + + * * * + +The Admiralty dismisses as "a silly rumour" the report that one of our +new first-class destroyers is to be named _The Suffragette_. + + * * * + +In Mr. STEPHEN PHILLIPS' play, _The Sin of David_, we are to see +Cavaliers and Roundheads. This will be a welcome change, for in most of +the theatres nowadays one sees a preponderance of Deadheads. + + * * * + +The intrepid photographer again! _The Illustrated London News_ +advertises:-- + +PHOTOGRAVURE PRESENTATION PLATE OF + +GENERAL BOOTH AND +MRS. BRAMWELL BOOTH + +LIONS PHOTOGRAPHED AT 5 YARDS' +DISTANCE. + + * * * + +Once upon a time Red Indians used to kidnap Whites. Last week, Mrs. W. +BOWMAN CUTTER, a wealthy widow of seventy, living at Boston, +Massachusetts, eloped with her 21-year-old Red-skin chauffeur. + + * * * + +A memorial to a prize-fighter who was beaten by TOM SAYERS was unveiled +at Nottingham last week. Should this idea of doing honour to defeated +British heroes spread to those of to-day our sculptors should have a +busy time. + + * * * + +A visitor to Scarborough nearly lost his motor-car in the sands at Filey +last week: it sank up to the bonnet and was washed by the sea before it +was hauled to safety by four horses. Neptune is said to have been not a +little annoyed at the car's escape, as he realises that his old chariot +drawn by sea-horses is now sadly _demode_. + + * * * + +A new organisation, called "The League of Wayfarers," has been formed. +Its members apparently consist of "child policemen," who undertake to +protect wild flowers. How it is going to be done we do not quite +understand. Presumably, small boys will hide behind, say, dandelions, +and emit a loud roar when anyone tries to pluck the tender plant. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA. + +_Romantic Tripper._ "TELL ME, HAVE YOU EVER PICKED UP ANY BOTTLES ON THE +BEACH?" + +_Boatman._ "WERRY OFTEN, MISS!" + +_Romantic Tripper._ "AND HAVE YOU FOUND ANYTHING IN THEM?" + +_Boatman._ "NOT A BLESSED DROP, MISS!" + + * * * * * + +When _The Yorkshire Post_ and _The Hull Daily Mail_ differ, who shall +decide between them? _The Hull Daily Mail_ asserts positively that A. +PAPAZONGLON won the long jump at the Bridlington Grammar School sports +and that C. PAPAZONGLON was second in the 100 yards and High Jump. Its +contemporary, however, unhesitatingly awards these positions to C. +PAPAZONGLOU, C. PAPAZONGA and G. PAPAZAGLOU respectively. But it gives +the "Victor Ludorum" cup to a new competitor, C. PAPAZOUGLOU, and again +differs from _The Hull Daily Mail_, which knows for a fact that it was +won by C. PPAZONGLON. Whom shall we believe? + + * * * * * + + "ASQUITH DENIES MILITANT PLEA. + + Receives Working Women but Won't Introduce Bill."--_New York Evening + Sun._ + +We are left with the uneasy impression that William is a snob. + + * * * * * + + "On a divan the motion for rejection was carried by 178 to + 136."--_Daily Chronicle._ + +Our politicians are right to take it easy this hot weather. + + * * * * * + +A PATRIOT UNDER FIRE. + +(_Observed during the recent heat wave._) + + Philip, I note with unaffected awe + How, with the glass at 90 in the cool, + You still obey inflexibly the law + That governs manners of the British school; + How, in a climate where the sweltering air + Seems to be wafted from a kitchen copper, + You still refuse to lay aside your wear + Of sable (proper). + + The Civil Service which you so adorn + Would lose its prestige, visibly grown slack, + And all its lofty pledges be forsworn + Were you to deviate from your boots of black; + Were you to shed that coat of sombre dye, + That ebon brain-box (imitation beaver) + Whose torrid aspect strikes the passer-by + With tertian fever. + + As something far beyond me I respect + The virtue, equal to the stiffest crux, + Which thus forbids your costume to deflect + Into the primrose path of straw and ducks; + I praise that fine regard for red-hot tape + Which calmly and without an eyelid's flutter + Suffers the maddening noon to melt your nape + As it were butter. + + "His clothes are not the man," I freely own, + Yet often they express the stuff they hide, + As yours, I like to fancy, take their tone + From stern, ascetic qualities inside; + Just as the soldier's heavy marching-gear + Conceals a heart of high determination, + Too big, in any temperature, to fear + Nervous prostration. + + I cite the warrior's case who goes through fire; + For you, no less a patriot, face your risk + When in your country's service you perspire + In blacks that snort at Phoebus' flaming disc; + So, till a medal (justly made of jet) + Records your grit and pluck for all to know 'em, + I on your chest with safety-pins will set + This inky poem. + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +"THE PURPLE LIE." + + +"Arabella," I said, examining the fuzzy part of her which projected +above the dome of the coffee-pot, "I perceive that you mope. That being +so, I am glad to be able to tell you that I have been presented with two +tickets for _The Purple Lie_ to-morrow evening." + +"Sorry," she replied, "but it's off." + +"Off!" I exclaimed indignantly, "when the box-office is being besieged +all day by a howling mob, and armoured commissionaires are constantly +being put into commission to defend it. Off!" + +"What I mean to say is," said Arabella, "that we're dining with the +Messington-Smiths to-morrow evening." + +I bowed my head above the marmalade and wept. "Arabella," I groaned, +looking up at last, "what have we done that these people should continue +to supply us with food? We do not love them, and they do not love us. +The woman is a bromide. Her husband is even worse. He is a phenacetin. I +shall fall asleep in the middle of the asparagus and butter myself +badly. Think, moreover, of the distance to Morpheus Avenue. Remember +that I have been palpitating to see _The Purple Lie_ for weeks." + +"So have I," said Arabella. "It's sickening, but I am afraid we must +pass those tickets on." + +I happened that day to be lunching with my friend Charles. "The last +thing in the world I want to do," I said to him, "is to oblige you in +any way, but I chance to have--ahem!--purchased two stalls for _The +Purple Lie_ which I cannot make use of. I had forgotten that I am dining +with some very important and--er--influential people to-morrow night. +When a man moves as I do amid a constant whirl of gilt-edged +engagements----" + +"Ass!" said Charles, and pocketed the tickets. + +On the following morning I perceived a large crinkly frown at the +opposite end of the breakfast table, and, rightly divining that Arabella +was behind it, asked her what the trouble was. + +"It's the Messington-Smiths," she complained. "They can't have us to +dinner after all. It seems that Mrs. Messington-Smith has a bad sore +throat." + +"Any throat would be sore," I replied, "that had Mrs. Messington-Smith +talking through it. I wonder whether Charles is using those tickets." + +"You might ring up and see." + +To step lightly to the telephone, ask for Charles's number, get the +wrong one, ask again, find that he had gone to his office, ring him up +there and get through to him, was the work of scarcely fifteen minutes. +"Charles," I said, "are you using those two stalls of mine to-day?" + +"Awfully sorry," he replied, "but I can't go myself. I gave them away +yesterday evening." + +"Wurzel!" I said. "Who to?" + +"To whom," he corrected gently. "To a dull man I met in the City named +Messington-Smith." + +"Named _what_?" I shrieked. + +"Messington-Smith. _M_ for Mpret, _E_ for Eiderdown----" + +"Where does he live?" + +"21, Morpheus Avenue." + +For a moment the room seemed to spin round me. I put down the +transmitter and pressed my hand to my forehead. Then in a shaking voice +I continued--"Of all the double-barrelled, unmitigated, blue-faced----" + +"What number, please?" sang a sweet soprano voice. I rang off, and went +to break the news to Arabella. + +She was silent for a few moments, and then asked me suddenly, +"Whereabouts in the stalls were those seats of ours?" + +"Almost in the middle of the third row," I replied mournfully. + +Arabella said no more, but with a rather disdainful smile on her face +walked firmly to her little escritoire, sat down, wrote a note, and +addressed it to Mrs. Messington-Smith. + +"What have you said?" I asked, as she stamped her letter with a rather +vicious jab on KING GEORGE'S left eye. + +"Just that I am sorry about her old sore throat," she replied. "And then +I went on, that wasn't it funny by the same post we had been given two +stalls for _The Purple Lie_ to-night in a very good place in the middle +of the third row? She will get the letter by lunch-time," she added +pensively, "and it will be so nice for her to know that we shall be +sitting almost next to them." + +"But we aren't going to _The Purple Lie_ at all," I protested. + +"No," she said, "and as a matter of fact I don't suppose the +Messington-Smiths are either--now." + +I left Arabella smiling triumphantly through her tears, +but when I returned in the evening the breakfast-time frown had +reappeared with even crinklier ramifications. + +"Why," I asked, "are you looking like a tube map?" + +"Mrs. Messington-Smith," she answered with a slight catch in her voice, +"has just been telephoning." + +"I thought the receiver looked a bit played out," I said. "What does she +want with us now?" + +"Well, she _has_ got a sore throat after all. You could tell that from +her voice. And she isn't going to _The Purple Lie_ either. She never +even meant to." + +"But the tickets," I gasped. + +"She and her husband quite forgot about them till to-day," said +Arabella. "And now they have given them away to some friends. But they +weren't given away at all till this afternoon, and----" + +She broke off and gave a lachrymose little sniff. + +"And what?" + +"And she knew, of course, that we're disengaged to-night, and when she +got my letter she was just going to send them round to us." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: BEATEN ON POINTS. + +L.C.C. TRAM. "HARD LINES ON ME!" + +MOTOR-'BUS. "YES, IT'S ALWAYS HARD LINES WITH YOU, MY BOY. THAT'S WHAT'S +THE MATTER; YOU CAN'T SIDE-STEP." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: "WHO'S THE LITTLE MAN HOLDING HIS RACKET THAT FUNNY WAY?" + +"OH, THAT'S MR. BINKS. HE TAKES THE PLATE ROUND IN CHURCH, YOU KNOW." + + * * * * * +Commercial Candour. + +From a testimonial:-- + + "I have had this cover on the rear wheel of my 3-1/2 h.p. Humber + Motor Cycle and have ridden same 7,000 miles, six of these without a + puncture."--_Advt. in "Motor Cycle."_ + + * * * * * + +"MRD. CPL., temporary."--_Advt. in "Daily Mail."_ + +When we tell you that the mystic letters mean "married couple," you will +share our horror. + + * * * * * + +WOMAN AT THE FIGHT. + + In ancient unsophisticated days + Women were valued for their cloistered ways. + And won at Rome encouragement from man + Only because they stayed at home and span; + While PERICLES in Attic Greek expressed + The view that those least talked about were best. + There were exceptions, but the normal Greek + Regarded SAPPHO as a dangerous freak, + And CLYTEMNESTRA for three thousand years + Was pelted with unmitigated sneers, + Till RICHARD STRAUSS and HOFMANNSTHAL combined + To prove that she was very much maligned. + + But now at last these cloistered days are o'er + And woman, breaking down her prison door, + Is free to take the middle of the floor. + No more for her indomitable soul + The meekly ministering angel _role_; + No more the darner of her husband's socks, + She takes delight in watching champions box, + Finds respite from the carking cares that vex us + In cheering blows that reach the solar plexus, + Joins in the loud and patriotic shout + While beaten BELL is being counted out, + And--joy that makes all other joys seem nil-- + Writes her impressions for _The Daily Thrill_. + + * * * * * + +ONCE UPON A TIME. + +THE SUSCEPTIBLE AMERICAN. + +Once upon a time there was a beautiful singer named Miss Iris Bewlay. +Every now and then she gave a recital, and it was always crowded. She +was chosen to sing "God save the King" at bazaars and Primrose League +meetings; her rendering of "Home, Sweet Home" moistened every eye. +Hostesses wishing to be really in the swim engaged her to sing during +after-dinner conversation for enormous fees. + +When Miss Iris Bewlay was approaching the forties and adding every day +to her wealth, another Miss Bewlay--not Iris, but Gladys, and no +relation whatever--was gradually improving her gift of song with a +well-known teacher, for it was Miss Gladys Bewlay's intention, with her +parents' strong approval, to become a professional. She had not, it is +true, her illustrious namesake's commanding presence or powerful +register, but her voice was sweet and refined and she might easily have +a future. + +It happened that a susceptible music-loving American staying in London +for a short time was taken by some English friends to a concert at which +Miss Iris Bewlay was singing, and he fell at once a victim to her tones. +Never before had he heard a voice which so thrilled and moved him. He +returned to his hotel enraptured, and awoke with but one desire and that +was to hear Miss Bewlay again. + +"Say, where is a Miss Bewlay singing to-night?" he asked the hotel +porter. + +The porter searched all the concert announcements, but found no mention +of the great name. In the end he advised a visit to one of the ticket +libraries, and off the enthusiast hurried. + +Now it happened that this very evening was the one chosen for the +_debut_, before a number of invited friends, of Miss Gladys Bewlay, and +one of the guests chanced to be at the ticket library at the moment the +susceptible American entered and fired his question at the clerk. + +"Say, can you tell me where Miss Bewlay is singing to-night?" he said. + +The clerk having no information, the susceptible American was turning +away when the guest of the other Bewlay family ventured to address him +with the information that Miss Bewlay was singing that evening at a +private gathering at one of the halls. + +"Couldn't I get in?" the American asked. + +"It's private," said the lady. "It's only for the friends of the +family." + +"Let me take down the address, anyway," said he, and took it down. + +That evening, just before Miss Gladys Bewlay's first song, a visiting +card was handed to one of her brothers, with the statement that a +gentleman desired the pleasure of a moment's interview on a matter of +great importance. + +"See here," said the gentleman, and it was none other than the +susceptible American, "I'm just crazy about Miss Bewlay's singing. They +tell me she's here to-night. Now I know it's a strange thing to ask, but +I want to know if you can't just let me lean against a pillar somewhere +at the back while she's singing, and then I'll go right away. It's my +last chance for some time, you see. I go back to America to-morrow." + +The brother, not a little impressed by his sister's magnetism, all +unsuspected in a _debutante_, and imagining the American to have heard +her at a lesson, said he saw no reason why this little scheme should not +be carried out; and so the American entered and took up an obscure +position; and in a short while Miss Bewlay ascended the platform and +began to sing. + +When she had finished the American approached one of the guests and +begged to be told the name of the singer. + +"Miss Bewlay," said the guest. "It's her first appearance to-night." + +"Miss Bewlay," gasped the American. "Then there are two of them. You say +this is her first appearance?" + +"Yes." + +"Then she's very young?" + +"Only about twenty." + +The American returned to his corner, and the second song began. + +Whatever disappointment his ears may have suffered it would have been +obvious to close observers that his eyes were contented enough. They +rested on the fair young singer with delight and admiration, and when +she had finished there was no applause like the susceptible American's. + +When Miss Bewlay's brother had gradually worked his way to the back of +the room, he found the American in an ecstasy. + +"She's great," he said. "Say, would it be too much to ask you to +introduce me?" + +"Not at all," said the brother, who was as pleased at his sister's +success as though it were his own. + +The American did not return to his own country the next day, nor for +many days after; and when he did he was engaged to Miss Gladys Bewlay. + +Isn't that a pretty fairy story? and almost every word of it is true. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: "MY DEAR OLD FELLOW! WHAT'S THE MATTER? THE SEA'S LIKE A +DUCK-POND!" + +"I KNOW, OLD BOY--BUT I'VE TAKEN SIX--DIFFERENT--REMEDIES." + + * * * * * + +A SEASIDE "SONG SCENA." + +Yesterday I celebrated the beginning of my holidays by patronising _The +Melodities_ on the beach. _The Melodities_ are a band of entertainers +who draw enormous salaries for giving a couple of performances daily in +a kind of luxurious open-air theatre. + +"Ladies and Gentlemen," announced the Manager soon after I had taken my +seat, "our first item will be a Song Scena entitled _The Moon_, by +Bertie Weston, assisted by six members of the company." A quiver of +expectation ran through the crowded audience. + +Bertie Weston, wearing a uniform resembling (I imagine) that of a +Patagonian Vice-Admiral, advanced mincingly to the footlights, and the +six others, similarly attired, ranged themselves in a row behind him. +Behind these again dropped a back-cloth representing a stone balustrade, +blue hills and fleecy clouds. + +There was a burst of warm applause, in response to which Bertie politely +bowed his thanks. Without further preliminary he commenced-- + + The crescent moon on high + Is shining in the sky. + +Here the six turned up their faces and gazed pensively at the heavens +(it was still broad daylight, by the way), at the same time resting +their chins on their right hands and their right elbows on their left +hands. + + The sun is gone, + The stars are wan, + Oh come, my love, we'll wander, you and I. + +Here the six ceased to regard the sky, split into pairs and by +pantomimic gesture invited one another to wander. + + Across the hills we'll go, + While birds sing soft and low, + +The singer paused for an instant, while the six, now formed into a +semicircle, hummed together softly a suggestion of distant nightingales. +Not an imitation--that would be too banal--but a suggestion. In point of +fact I thought I detected the air of "The Little Grey Home in the West." + + While the silver moon adorns the summer sky. + +After a brief pause, brightened by what are vulgarly termed twiddly bits +on the piano, the soloist sang the chorus, softly and appealing, with a +sort of treacly intonation:-- + + Moon, moon, moon, + We'll come soon, soon, + Across the hills while all the world is dreaming. + Moon, moon, moon, + I'd like to swoon, swoon, + +The heads of the six drooped listlessly and their hands fell languidly +to their sides; their eyes closed. + + When I see your white rays beaming, gleaming, streaming. + +The six awoke briskly and commenced to glide around the stage, +describing circles, figures of eight, and other more intricate patterns, +while Bertie swayed his body rhythmically from side to side, his arms +and hands outstretched and palms turned downwards. In this formation +they all repeated the chorus together. + +Bertie now cleared his throat and started on the second verse without +delay. The six stood sideways, their hands in their trousers pockets and +their faces turned to the audience. + + Oh, moon of dainty grace, + Shine on my loved one's face. + +The footlights were suddenly switched off and each of the six produced a +small electric torch and illuminated his neighbour's features. The +effect was startling. Presently the footlights reappeared as abruptly as +they had vanished and the torches were extinguished. + + Upon the hill + The night is still. + +Again there was a short pause, during which the six breathed lightly +through their teeth, producing a faint and long-drawn +_sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh_. + + Oh come, my love, together let us haste. + +The six ceased sh-sh-ing and gracefully invited one another to haste. + + Away, away, we'll roam + To seek our fairy home, + While the silver moon illuminates the place. + +The six placed both hands on their breasts and stood with bowed heads, +motionless except for a continuous and rhythmic bending of the knees, +while Bertie sang the chorus softly, lingeringly. Then, stretching out +their arms, they swayed their bodies from side to side as their leader +had previously done, while Bertie himself drifted in and out between +them, and all rendered the chorus for the second time. + + Moon, moon, moon, + We'll come soon, soon. + Across the hills while all the world is dreaming. + Moon, moon, moon, + I want to swoon, swoon, + When I see your white rays beaming, gleaming, streaming. + +There was a moment's emotional silence, broken by a thunder of rapturous +applause. The Song Scena, all too short, was finished. + +Anxious not to risk spoiling the impression, I arose and left hastily +before the next turn. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _She._ "HERBERT, I CAN'T FIND MY BATHING-DRESS ANYWHERE!" + +_He._ "SEE IF YOU'VE GOT IT ON." + + * * * * * + + "Young M'Pherson, the Blackford jumper, is anxious to fix up a match + for a long jump with anybody in Scotland. A week ago he did 5-1/2 + ft., but he asserts he can beat this hollow if called upon." + + _Edinburgh Evening News._ + +If M'PHERSON will say just how young he is, we will find a suitable +nephew to take him on. Tommy (aged eight) did 6 ft. 1 in. yesterday, but +asserts that he slipped. + + * * * * * + +A MIDSUMMER MADNESS. + +The girl who shared Herbert's meringue at dinner (a brittle one, which +exploded just as he was getting into it) was kind and tactful. + +"It doesn't matter a bit," she said, removing fragments of shell from +her lap; and, to put him at his ease again, went on, "Are you interested +in little problems at all?" + +Herbert, who would have been interested even in a photograph album just +then, emerged from his apologies and swore that he was. + +"We're all worrying about one which Father saw in a paper. I do wish you +could solve it for us. It goes like this." And she proceeded to explain +it. Herbert decided that the small piece of meringue still in her hair +was not worth mentioning and listened to her with interest. + +On the next morning I happened to drop in at Herbert's office.... And +that, in short, is how I was mixed up in the business. + +"Look here," said Herbert, "you used to be mathematical; here's +something for you." + +"Let the dead past bury its dead," I implored. "I am now quite +respectable." + +"It goes like this," he said, ignoring my appeal. + +He then gave me the problem, which I hand on to you. + +"A subaltern riding at the rear of a column of soldiers trotted up to +the captain in front and challenged him to a game of billiards for +half-a-crown a side, the loser to pay for the table. Having lost, he +played another hundred, double or quits, and then rode back, the column +by this time having travelled twice its own length, and a distance equal +to the distance it would have travelled if it had been going in the +other direction. What was the captain's name?" + +Perhaps I have not got it quite right, for I have had an eventful week +since then; or perhaps Herbert didn't get it quite right; or perhaps the +girl with the meringue in her hair didn't get it quite right; but +anyhow, that was the idea of it. + +"And the answer," said Herbert, "ought to be 'four cows,' but I keep on +making it 'eight and tuppence.' Just have a shot at it, there's a good +fellow. I promised the girl, you know." + +I sat down, worked it out hastily on the back of an envelope, and made +it a yard and a half. + +"No," said Herbert; "I know it's 'four cows,' but I can't get it." + +"Sorry," I said, "how stupid of me; I left out the table-money." + +I did it hastily again and made it three minutes twenty-five seconds. + +"It _is_ difficult, isn't it?" said Herbert. "I thought, as you used to +be mathematical and as I'd promised the girl----" + +"Wait a moment," I said, still busy with my envelope. "I forgot the +subaltern. Ah, that's right. The answer is a hundred and twenty-five +men.... No, that's wrong--I never doubled the half-crown. Er--oh, look +here, Herbert, I'm rather busy this morning. I'll send it to you." + +"Right," said Herbert. "I know I can depend on you, because you're +mathematical." And he opened the door for me. + +I had meant to do a very important piece of work that day, but I +couldn't get my mind off Herbert's wretched problem. Happening to see +Carey at tea-time, I mentioned it to him. + +"Ah," said Carey profoundly. "H'm. Have you tried it with an '_x_'?" + +"Of course." + +"Yes, it looks as though it wants a bit of an '_x_' somewhere. You stick +to it with an '_x_' and you ought to do it. Let '_x_' be the +subaltern--that's the way. I say, I didn't know you were interested in +problems." + +"Well----" + +"Because I've got rather a tricky chess problem here I can't do." He +produced his pocket chess-board. "White mates in four moves." + +I looked at it carelessly. Black had only left himself with a Pawn and a +King, while White had seen to it that he had a Queen and a couple of +Knights about. Now, I know very little about chess, but I do understand +the theory of chess problems. + +"Have you tried letting the Queen be taken by Black's pawn, then +sacrificing the Knights, and finally mating him with the King alone?" + +"Yes," said Carey. + +Then I was baffled. If one can't solve a chess problem by starting off +with the most unlikely-looking thing on the board, one can't solve it at +all. However, I copied down the position and said I'd glance at it.... +At eleven that night I rose from my glance, decided that Herbert's +problem was the more immediately pressing, and took it to bed with me. + +I was lunching with William next day, and I told him about the +subaltern. He dashed at it lightheartedly and made the answer seventeen. + +"Seventeen what?" I said. + +"Well, whatever we're talking about. I think you'll find it's seventeen +all right. But look here, my son, here's a golf problem for you. A. is +playing B. At the fifth hole A. falls off the tee into a pond----" + +I forget how it went on. + +When I got home to dinner, after a hard day with the subaltern, I found +a letter from Norah waiting for me. + +"I hear from Mr. Carey," she wrote, "that you're keen on problems. +Here's one I have cut out of our local paper. Do have a shot at it. The +answer ought to be eight miles an hour." + +Luckily, however, she forgot to enclose the problem. For by this time, +what with Herbert's subaltern, Carey's pawn, and a cistern left me by an +uncle who was dining with us that night, I had more than enough to +distract me. + +And so the business has gone on. The news that I am preparing a +collection of interesting and tricky problems for a new _Encylopaedia_ +has got about among my friends. Everybody who writes to me tells me of a +relation of his who has been shearing sheep or rowing against the stream +or dealing himself four aces. People who come to tea borrow a box of +wooden matches and beg me to remove one match and leave a perfect +square. I am asked to do absurd things with pennies.... + +Meanwhile Herbert has forgotten both the problem and the girl. Three +evenings later he shared his Hollandaise sauce with somebody in yellow +(as luck would have it) and she changed the subject by wondering if he +read DICKENS. He is now going manfully through _Bleak House_--a chapter +a night--and when he came to visit me to-day he asked me if I had ever +heard of the man. + +However I was not angry with him, for I had just made it come to "three +cows." It is a cow short, but it is nearer than I have ever been before, +and I think I shall leave it at that. Indeed, both the doctor and the +nurse say that I had better leave it at that. + + A. A. M. + + * * * * * + +A SEASONABLE BEVERAGE. + + Great charm hath tea--some fragrant blend; + Sipped with a fair and festive friend; + + And even milk hath flavour, too, + When sun-kissed milkmaids hand it you. + + Beer, in a large resounding can, + Befits a coarser type of man, + + While some rejoice in spirit pure, + And others in a faked liqueur. + + But none of these, nor any wine, + Hath present claim to praise of mine, + + Hath e'er produced the gasp and thrill + Of that incomparable swill + + When first, from care and toil set free, + I plunge into the summer sea + And bring a mouthful back with me. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE ANNUAL PROBLEM. + +_Showing how helpfully the hoardings distinguish between the +characteristic features of various localities._ + + * * * * * + +Illustration: A LONG-FELT WANT. + +THE SOCIETY FOR THE PREVENTION OF CRUELTY TO MOTOR-CYCLES. + + * * * * * + +POLITICS AT THE ZOO. + +Lord ROBERT CECIL'S comparison of the occupants of the Treasury Bench to +the monkeys at the Zoo has caused considerable excitement in Regent's +Park, and one of _Mr. Punch's_ representatives, assisted by an +interpreter, has taken the opportunity to sound some of the principal +inmates on the subject. + +In the Simian section a certain amount of regret was expressed that Lord +ROBERT had not been more explicit in his comparison. Did he refer to +chimpanzees, baboons, gorillas or other species? But when all allowance +was made for this lack of precision the general impression was one of +satisfaction that a leading politician should have frankly admitted that +monkeys possessed qualities which entitled their human possessors to +high office and handsome salaries. It was felt that this admission +marked a great advance on all previous concessions to the claims of the +Simian community, and pointed irresistibly to the ultimate +grant--already long overdue--of Monkey Franchise throughout the Empire. + +Baboons, it was well known, were already employed as railway porters in +Cape Colony, and chimpanzees had of late years appeared with great +success at some of the leading music-halls. In view of these facts the +further delay of the suffrage could no longer be justified. At present +we were confronted with the gross anomaly that a tailor, who was +admitted to be only the ninth part of a man, was given a vote, while the +monkey, man's ancestor, was denied even the fraction which was all that +a tailor deserved. + +These views however were not shared by other _genera_ domiciled at the +Zoological Gardens. One of the oldest lions observed in a strepitous +bass that it was a great relief to him that his race had not been +degraded by any such comparisons. He had some respect for hunters, but +as for politicians he would not be seen dead with them at a pig fair. +Asked whether he had read Mr. RAMSAY MACDONALD'S account of his +lion-hunting exploits, in _The Daily Chronicle_, he professed ignorance +and even indifference. Speaking as an aristocrat he thought that a +Labour leader was not worthy to twist his tail. As for the conduct of +Mr. BERNARD SHAW in bringing lions on the stage, he thought it little +short of an outrage for an anaemic vegetarian to take liberties with the +king of the carnivora. + +Considerable resentment was shown in the Ursine encampment at Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE'S somewhat disparaging reference to the bear's hug. (It will be +remembered that he compared with it the attitude of the Tories in +respect of the Finance Bill.) The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER evidently +regarded it as an insincere caress, whereas it was a perfectly honest +expression of hostility. This attack was all the more unjust and +undeserved since the bear was a most hardworking and underpaid member of +the community. When a politician reached the top of the poll he got L400 +a year. When a bear did the same he only got a penny bun. + +A conversation with a leading representative of the colony of Penguins +revealed the interesting fact that they were incapable of appreciating +our Parliamentary procedure owing to their hereditary inability to sit +down. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Mr. Punch's_ HOLIDAY PAGES. + + * * * * * + +THE PRIMA DONNA. + +[_The repertoire of Summer is here made to embrace the prelude of many +good things that come within the wider scope of the holiday season._] + + Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, we crave your kind attention! + Here's Summer, at your service (till you bid the lady stop); + Good gentlemen, she's songs for you--'tis time to drop dissension; + 'Tis time to cut the cackle and to close awhile the shop; + For stags shall be in Badenoch, and Kent hath twined the hop. + + Yes, songs for every son o' you, and all have silver linings! + Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, it's close, your London air; + If I'm mixing up the proverbs, 'tis because my roads run shining + Through the fret of far-off pine-woods, and I'm wishful to be there; + Or at hand among the hop-poles when the vines are trailing fair. + + Good gentlemen, the prologue! Here's a programme most attractive: + She's songs for everyone o' you--oh, rare the tunes and rich! + Here's hackneyed _Devon Harbours_ (but the pollock's biting active); + Here's _Evening_ (rise in Hampshire); here's _The Roller on the Pitch_; + And music in the lot o' them--it doesn't matter which. + + We've long _White Roads o' Brittany_ and pretty _Wayside Posies_, + _Blue Bays_ (beneath the undercliff--the white sails crawling by); + We've _Rabbits in a Hedgerow_ (how the bustling Clumber noses); + We've _Grouse Across the Valley_ (crashing crumpled from the sky); + And magic's in each note of her--it doesn't matter why. + + Here's _Salmon Songs_ and _Shrimping Songs_, according to your pocket; + Here's _Hopping_ (with a lurcher--twice as useful as a gun + For the fat young August pheasants that'll never live to rocket); + Here's a jolly _Song o' Golf Balls_; here's the tune of + _Cubs that Run_; + We've something for each Jack o' you, for every mother's son. + + Good gentlemen, good gentlemen, we crave your kind permission! + Here's Summer, at your service, and she'd sing you on your ways + The marching songs of morning and the Road that fits the Vision, + The mellow songs of twilight and the gold September haze; + God rest you all, good gentlemen, and send you pleasant days. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE VOGUE FOR WEARING FANCY DRESS THREATENS TO INVADE +ORDINARY SOCIAL LIFE. + +TENNIS AT THE VICARAGE. + +A JOLLY BATHING PARTY. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: OUR DEAR OLD FRIEND, THE FOREIGN SPY (CUNNINGLY DISGUISED +AS A GOLFER), VISITS OUR YOUNGEST SUBURB ONE SATURDAY AFTERNOON IN QUEST +OF FURTHER EVIDENCE OF OUR LETHARGY, GENERAL DECADENCE AND FALLING +BIRTH-RATE. HE GETS A SHOCK AND AT ONCE TELEGRAPHS TO HIS +COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF URGING THAT THE CONQUEST OF THE BRITISH ISLES BE +UNDERTAKEN BEFORE THE PRESENT GENERATION IS MANY YEARS OLDER. + + * * * * * + +Illustrations: THE INTRUSIONS OF THE CINEMA. + +[Jones, secretary to the South Sea Islanders' Regeneration Society, who +is suffering from nerves, is recommended a very remote sea-coast retreat +for his summer holiday. With his wife and family he tries it. The +manager of a certain cinema company likewise chooses this particular +spot for his company to rehearse their powerful new drama, "Down among +the Dead Men."] + +_Miss Jones._ "WAKE UP, DAD, WE'RE GOING TO BATHE." + + +_First Act of the Drama._--AFTER THE WRECK: DESMOND AND ROSEMARY WASHED +ASHORE ON THE CANNIBAL ISLAND. + + * * * + +_Jones (to the rescue)._ "DEVILS! FIENDS! UNTIE THAT WHITE MAN!" + + * * * + +_The Cinema Manager explains._ "SORRY TO HAVE CAUSED YOU ANY +INCONVENIENCE, SIR--MERELY REHEARSING 'DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN'--DAM +FINE DRAMA, SIR--WE PRODUCE SAME AT THE OPERA 'OUSE, CROYDON, ON THE +16TH." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Surf-rider._ "I'M ALMOST SURE THIS ISN'T A BIT THE WAY +IT'S DONE IN THOSE ILLUSTRATED PAPERS!" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Early Tripper._ "MAKES YER FEEL LIKE OLE NAPOLEON AT +WHAT'S-ITS-NAME!" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: APT NOMENCLATURE IN OUR GARDEN SUBURB. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _The Captain._ "THE BLOOMIN' VICE-PRESIDENT'S FORGOT THE +STUMPS. YOUNG BILL 'ERE BETTER BE THE WICKET--'E WANTS TO PLAY AND 'E'S +TOO LITTLE TO BAT AGIN SWIFT BOWLIN'!" + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Native_ (_having seen his rival tipped by guileless +visitor_). "'E'S SWINDLED YER, SIR. I'M THE OLDEST +INHABITANT--NINETY-FOUR COME SUNDAY THREE WEEKS. 'E'S ONLY A YOUNGSTER +OF EIGHTY-TWO." + + * * * * * + +Illustration: EVEN IN HIS PLAY THE SCIENTIST'S CHILD IS SCIENTIFIC. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE POLITICAL JUNGLE. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: A FULL JOY-DAY. + +How an energetic visitor contrived to sample nearly all the attractions +of Worplethorpe-on-Sea (as advertised by the municipality) in the course +of a one-day's trip. + +_9 to 10.30 A.M._--BATHING AND FISHING. + +_10.30 A.M. to 12 (noon)._--SHOOTING AND CYCLING. + +_12 to 1.30 P.M._--TENNIS AND BOTANY. + +_3 to 4.30 P.M._--CROQUET AND ARCHAEOLOGY. + +_4.30 to 6 P.M._--GOLF AND GEOLOGY. + +_6 to 7.30 P.M._--SKETCHING AND DONKEY-RIDING. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: RACE-COURSE OF THE NEAR FUTURE, SUFFRAGETTE-PROOF. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: SMITH, WHO ALWAYS WEARS THE NATIVE COSTUME WHEN FISHING +IN THE HIGHLANDS (HIS GREAT-GRAND-AUNT'S STEP-FATHER HAVING BEEN A +McGREGOR) FINDS THE MIDGES SOMEWHAT TROUBLESOME. A LITTLE INGENUITY +HOWEVER OVERCOMES THE DIFFICULTY. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE "SPASMO" CANOELET. + +IT IS A RELUCTANT STARTER. + +WHEN IT _DOES_ START, IT STARTS. + +IT LAUGHS AT LOCKS. + +IT ENDS AS A HYDRO-AEROPLANE. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE EMANCIPATION OF THE EAST. + +THE GRAND VIZIER, A MASTER OF POLYGAMY, REGRETS THE VOGUE OF THE CINEMA +AS AN EDUCATIVE FORCE. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: LUNCH "SCORES." + + * * * * * + +COMPLAINTS ARE HEARD FROM HOLIDAY-MAKERS ON THEIR RETURN THAT THE +HOLIDAY HAS FAILED TO BENEFIT THEM. THIS IS DUE TO LACK OF PREPARATORY +TRAINING AT HOME. + +Illustration: HARDEN THE FEET FOR BEACH-WALKING. + +Illustration: ACCUSTOM THE LUNGS TO MARINE AROMAS. + +Illustration: PREPARE TO RECEIVE THE BUFFETINGS OF NEPTUNE. + +Illustration: TOUGHEN THE INTERIOR FOR A LODGING-HOUSE DIET. + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S HOLIDAY FILM. + + [Having had the good fortune to pick up for a mere song (or, to be + more accurate, for a few notes) several thousand miles of discarded + cinema films from a bankrupt company, _Mr. Punch_ is gumming the + best bits together and presenting them during the holiday season on + the piers of many of our fashionable watering-places, such as + Bayswater, Hackney Marshes and Ponder's End. The films comprise the + well-known "Baresark Basil, the Pride of the Ranch" (two miles + long), "The Foiler Foiled" (one mile, three furlongs, two rods, + poles or perches), "The Blood-stained Vest" (fragment--eighteen + inches), "A Maniac's Revenge" (5,000 feet), "The Life of the Common + Mosquito" (six legs), and so forth. An accomplished writer has been + chosen to weave a connected story round the selected parts of the + films, and his scenario of _Mr. Punch's_ great picture play, when + finally gummed together, is given below. The illustrations depict a + few representative incidents in the story--taken from the + sketch-book of an artist who was present when the films were first + being prepared.] + +Twenty-five years before our film opens, Andrew Bellingham, a young man +just about to enter his father's business, was spending a holiday in a +little fishing village in Cornwall. The daughter of the sheep-farmer +with whom he lodged was a girl of singular beauty, and Andrew's youthful +blood was quickly stirred to admiration. Carried away by his passion for +her, he-- + + [MANAGER OF PUNCH FILM COMPANY. _Just a reminder that MR. REDFORD + has to pass this before it can be produced._] + +--he married her-- + + [MANAGER. _Oh, I beg pardon._] + +--and for some weeks they lived happily together. One day he informed +Jessie that he would have to go back to his work in London, and that it +might be a year or more before he could acknowledge her openly as his +wife to his rich and proud parents. Jessie was prostrated with grief; +and late that afternoon her hat and fringe-net were discovered by the +edge of the waters. Realising at once that she must have drowned herself +in her distress, Andrew took an affecting farewell of her father and the +sheep, and returned to London. A year later he married a distant cousin, +and soon rose to a condition of prosperity. At the time our film begins +to unwind, he was respected by everybody in the City, a widower, and the +father of a beautiful girl of eighteen, called Hyacinth. + + [MANAGER. _Now we're off. What do we start with?_] + +I. + +On the sunny side of Fenchurch Street-- + + [MANAGER. _Ah, then I suppose we'd better keep back the Rescue from + the Alligator and the Plunge down Niagara in a Barrel._] + +--Andrew Bellingham was dozing in his office. Suddenly he awoke to find +a strange man standing over him. + +"Who are you?" asked Mr. Bellingham. "What do you want?" + +"My name is Jasper," was the answer, "and I have some information to +give you." He bent down and hissed, "_Your first wife is still alive!_" + +Andrew started up in obvious horror. "My daughter," he gasped, "my +little Hyacinth! She must never know." + +"Listen. Your wife is in Spain-- + + [MANAGER. _Don't waste her. Make it somewhere where there are + sharks._ + + AUTHOR. _It's all right, she's dead really._] + +--and she will not trouble you. Give me a thousand pounds, and you shall +have these;" and he held out a packet containing the marriage +certificate, a photograph of Jessie's father dipping a sheep, a +receipted bill for a pair of white gloves, size 9-1/2, two letters +signed "Your own loving little Andy Pandy", and a peppermint with "Jess" +on it in pink. "Once these are locked up in your safe, no one need never +know that you were married in Cornwall twenty-five years ago." + +Without a moment's hesitation Mr. Bellingham took a handful of +bank-notes from his pocket-book, and the exchange was made. At all costs +he must preserve his little Hyacinth from shame. Now she need never +know. With a forced smile he bowed Jasper out, placed the packet in his +safe and returned to his desk. + +Illustration: The Theft. + +But his mysterious visitor was not done with yet. As soon as the door +had closed behind him Jasper re-entered softly, drugged Andrew hastily, +and took possession again of the compromising documents. By the time Mr. +Bellingham had regained his senses the thief was away. A hue-and-cry was +raised, police whistles were blown, and Richard Harrington, Mr. +Bellingham's private secretary, was smartly arrested. + +At the trial things looked black against Richard. He was poor and he +was in love with Hyacinth; the chain of evidence was complete. In spite +of his impassioned protest from the dock, in spite of Hyacinth's +dramatic swoon in front of the solicitors' table, the judge with great +solemnity passed sentence of twenty years' penal servitude. A loud +"Hear, hear" from the gallery rang through the court, and, looking up, +Mr. Bellingham caught the sardonic eye of the mysterious Jasper. + +II. + +Richard had been in prison a month before the opportunity for his escape +occurred. For a month he had been hewing stone in Portland, black +despair at his heart. Then, like lightning, he saw his chance and took +it. The warders were off guard for a moment. Hastily lifting his +pickaxe---- + + [MANAGER. _Sorry, but it's a spade in the only prison film we've + got._] + +Hastily borrowing a spade from a comrade who was digging potatoes, he +struck several of his gaolers down, and, dodging the shots of others who +hurried to the scene, he climbed the prison wall and dashed for freedom. + +Illustration: The Escape. + +Reaching Weymouth at nightfall, he made his way to the house which +Hyacinth had taken in order to be near him, and, suitably disguised, +travelled up to London with her in the powerful motor which she had kept +ready. "At last, my love, we are together," he murmured as they neared +Wimbledon. But he had spoken a moment too soon. An aeroplane swooped +down upon them, and Hyacinth was snatched from his arms and disappeared +with her captors into the clouds. + +Illustration: The Abduction. + +III. + +Richard's first act on arriving in London was to go to Mr. Bellingham's +house. Andrew was out, but a note lying on his study carpet, "_Meet me +at the Old Windmill to-night_," gave him a clue. On receipt of this note +Andrew had gone to the _rendezvous_, and it was no surprise to him when +Jasper stepped out and offered to sell him a packet containing a +marriage certificate, a photograph of an old gentleman dipping a sheep, +a peppermint lozenge with "Jess" on it, and various other documents for +a thousand pounds. + +"You villain," cried Andrew, "even at the trial I suspected you," and he +rushed at him fiercely. + +A desperate struggle ensued. Breaking free for a moment from the +vice-like grip of the other, Jasper leapt with the spring of a panther +at one of the sails of the windmill as it came round, and was whirled +upwards; with the spring of another panther, Andrew leapt on to the next +sail and was whirled after him. At that moment the wind dropped, and the +combatants were suspended in mid-air. + +Illustration: The Duel at the Mill. + +It was upon this terrible scene that Richard arrived. Already a crowd +was collecting; and, though at present it did not seem greatly alarmed, +feeling convinced that it was only assisting at another cinematograph +rehearsal, its suspicions might at any moment be aroused. With a shout, +he dashed into the mill. Seeing him coming Jasper dropped his revolver +and slid down the sail into the window. In a moment he reappeared at the +door of the mill with Hyacinth under his arm. "Stop him!" cried Richard +from underneath a sack of flour. It was no good. Jasper had leapt with +his fair burden upon the back of his mustang and was gone.... + +The usual pursuit followed. + +IV. + +It was the gala night at the Royal Circus. Ricardo Harringtoni, the +wonderful new acrobat of whom everybody was talking, stood high above +the crowd on his platform. His marvellous performance on the swinging +horizontal bar was about to begin. Richard Harrington (for it was he) +was troubled. Since he had entered on his new profession--as a disguise +from the police who were still searching for him--he had had a vague +suspicion that the lion-tamer was dogging him. _Who was the lion-tamer?_ +Could it be Jasper? + +At that moment the band struck up and Richard leapt lightly on to the +swinging bar. With a movement full of grace he let go of the bar and +swung on to the opposite platform. And then, even as he was in mid-air, +he realized what was happening. + +Illustration: An Awkward Moment for Richard. + +Jasper had let the lion loose! + +_It was waiting for him._ + +With a gasping cry Ricardo Harrington fainted. + +V. + +When he recovered consciousness, Richard found himself on the S.S. +_Boracic_, which was forging her way through the-- + + [MANAGER.--_Somewhere where there are sharks._] + +--the Indian Ocean. Mr. Bellingham was bathing his forehead with cooling +drinks. + +"Forgive me, my boy," said Mr. Bellingham, "for the wrong I did you. It +was Jasper who stole the compromising documents. He refuses to give them +back unless I let him marry Hyacinth. What can I do?" + +"Where is she?" asked Richard. + +"Hidden away no one knows where. Find her, get back the documents for +me, and she is yours." + +Illustration: The Rescue. [_Inset--the Cinema Shark, 3s. 6d._] + +At that moment a terrible cry rang through the ship; "Man overboard!" +Pushing over Mr. Bellingham and running on deck, Richard saw that a +woman and her baby were battling for life in the shark-infested waters. +In an instant he had plunged in and rescued them. As they were dragged +together up the ship's side he heard her murmur, "Is little Jasper +safe?" + +"Jasper?" cried Richard. + +"Yes, called after his daddy." + +"Where is daddy now?" asked Richard hoarsely. + +"In America." + +"Can't you see the likeness?" whispered Richard to Mr. Bellingham. "It +must be. The villain is married to another. But now I will pursue him +and get back the papers." And he left the boat at the next port and +boarded one for America. + +VI. + +The search through North and South America for Jasper was protracted. +Accompanied sometimes by a band of cowboys, sometimes by a tribe of +Indians, Richard scoured the continent for his enemy. There were hours +when he would rest awhile and amuse himself by watching the antics of +the common mosquito. [MANAGER. _Good!_] or he would lie at full length +and gaze at a bud bursting into flower [MANAGER. _Excellent!_]. Then he +would leap on to his steed and pursue the trail relentlessly once more. + +One night he was dozing by his camp-fire, when he was awakened roughly +by strong arms around his neck and Jasper's hot breath in his ear. + +Illustration: Another Awkward Moment. + +"At last!" cried Jasper, and, knocking Richard heavily on the head with +a boot, he picked up his unconscious enemy and carried him to a +tributary of the Amazon noted for its alligators. Once there he tied him +to a post in mid-stream and rode hastily off to the nearest town, where +he spent the evening witnessing the first half of _The Merchant of +Venice_. [MANAGER. _Splendid!_] But in the morning a surprise awaited +him. As he was proceeding along the top of a lonely cliff he was +confronted suddenly by the enemy whom he had thought to kill. + +"Richard!" he cried, "escaped again!" + +"Now, Jasper, I have you." + +With a triumphant cry they rushed at each other; a terrible contest +ensued; and then Jasper, with one blow of his palm, hurled his adversary +over the precipice. + +Illustration: Over the Precipice. + +VII. + +How many times the two made an end of each other after this the films +will show. Sometimes Jasper sealed Richard in a barrel and pushed him +over Niagara; sometimes Richard tied Jasper to a stake, and set light to +him; sometimes they would both fall out of a balloon together. But the +day of reckoning was at hand. + + [MANAGER. _We've only got the Burning House and the 1913 Derby + left._ + + AUTHOR. _Right._] + +It is the evening of the 3rd of June. A cry rends the air suddenly, +whistles are blowing, there is a rattling of horses' hoofs. "Fire! +Fire!" Richard, who was passing Soho Square at the time, heard the cry +and dashed into the burning house. In a room full of smoke he perceived +a cowering woman. Hyacinth! To pick her up was the work of a moment, but +how shall he save her? Stay! The telegraph wire! His training at the +Royal Circus stood him in good stead. Treading lightly on the swaying +wire he carried Hyacinth across to the house opposite. + +"At last, my love," he breathed. + +"But the papers," she cried. "You must get them, or father will not let +you marry me." + +Once more he treads the rocking wire; once more he re-crosses, with the +papers on his back. Then the house behind him crumbles to the ground, +with the wicked Jasper in its ruins. + +Illustration: Richard Recovers the Letters. + +VIII. + +"Excellent," said Mr. Bellingham at dinner that evening. "Not only are +the papers here, but a full confession by Jasper. My first wife was +drowned all the time; he stole the documents from her father. Richard, +my boy, when the Home Secretary knows everything he will give you a free +pardon. And then you can marry my daughter." + +At these words Hyacinth and Richard were locked in a close embrace. On +the next day they all went to the Derby together. + + A. A. M. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: A MASTERPIECE IN THE MAKING. + +LORD LANSDOWNE (_Art Dealer, to Mr. ASQUITH_). "YES, I QUITE SEE YOUR +IDEA--A FIGURE OF PEACE; BUT, SINCE YOU INVITE SUGGESTIONS FROM ME, I +SHOULD SAY THAT THE ADDITION OF A FEW RECOGNISABLE SYMBOLS, SUCH AS A +PAIR OF WINGS, OR A DOVE, OR AN OLIVE-BRANCH, MIGHT HELP TO MAKE IT +CORRESPOND MORE CLEARLY WITH MY PUBLIC'S NOTION OF THE GODDESS IN +QUESTION." + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +(EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.) + +_House of Commons, Monday, June 29._--Curious how the Labour Party, who +the other day, joining hands with the Conservatives, nearly threw the +Government out, lead the way in sartorial fashion. Since DON'T KEIR +HARDIE, home from the storied East, presented himself in a reach-me-down +suit of white drill such as is worn aboard ship in the Red Sea, nothing +has created such sensation as the dropping in this afternoon of Mr. +HODGE, arrayed in a summer suit. It was not, as some might have +expected, the simple garment of the elder branch of his honourable +family. No. It was not a smock such as FRANK LOCKWOOD pictured BOBBY +SPENCER wearing when he made his historic declaration, "I am not an +agricultural labourer." HODGE (Gorton Div., Lancs., Lab.), as _The +Times'_ parliamentary report has it, burst upon the attention of a +crowded House at Question-time got up in wondrous garment, white in the +foundation of colour, but relieved from the crude hardness of DON'T KEIR +HARDIE'S suit by what suggested dexterous process of patting and lightly +smearing with a mustard-spoon. A Trilby hat crowned and accentuated +this creation. + +As the vision crossed the Bar Members sat silent, gazing upon it with +lips slightly parted. Similarly, upon a peak in Darien, stout CORTEZ +stared at the Pacific. + +Silence was broken by a burst of hearty cheering, in which the keen ear +detected a slightly discordant note. Whilst Members were frankly +disposed to applaud the boldness of what I believe purveyors of new +models of female dress call the "confection," whilst they were lost in +admiration of its effect, there was a feeling of disappointment that +they had not thought of it themselves, and been the first to enter the +field. + +Thanks to the genius of FRANK LOCKWOOD a former House was able to +realise the figure presented by the present. Earl SPENCER, whilst still +with us in the Commons, skipping along in the purity of a Monday morning +smock, carrying in his right hand a garlanded pitchfork. What the +present House, jaded with a succession of Budgets and the persistence of +the Ulster question, would like to see is the entrance of those twin +brethren, Lord CASTLEREAGH and Earl WINTERTON, walking arm-in-arm, +arrayed in garb approaching as nearly as possible that which, thanks to +Mr. HODGE, this afternoon illuminated the Legislative Chamber. + +_Business done._--CHANCELLOR OF EXCHEQUER announced third edition of +Budget. "Before the end of the week," said SARK, "I expect we shall meet +him running up and down the Terrace with hand to widely-opened mouth +shouting "Extry Speshul!" + + * * * + +Illustration: "EXTRY SPESHUL!" + + * * * + +_Tuesday._--AMERY began to think he had escaped consequences of his +little mistake. Nearly a week has sped since he called attention to +indiscretion of Captain BELLINGHAM, _aide-de-camp_ to the +LORD-LIEUTENANT, who, reviewing small body of Nationalist volunteers, +enjoined them to stand fast by cause of Home Rule. From answer of CHIEF +SECRETARY it appeared that Member for South Birmingham had been +forestalled by Lord ABERDEEN, who had called upon the Captain for +explanation and received suitable apology for the error. + +Irish Members quick to see opening innocently made for them. Having long +regarded with resentment Lord LONDONDERRY'S active patronage of +movements of Ulster volunteers, have sedulously sought opportunity of +bringing it under notice of House. AMERY obligingly provided it. +Unexpected delay in seizing it was due to search for particulars now +presented in form of question addressed to PREMIER, citing with dates +and places six separate occasions when the _aide-de-camp_ to the KING +had, by his presence and counsel, sanctioned reviews of Ulster +volunteers, "whose avowed object," as the question put it, "is, in event +of enactment of Home Rule Bill, to resist by armed force the authority +of the Crown and Parliament, and to make the administration of the law +impossible." What Mr. DEVLIN, with studied politeness, was anxious to +know was "whether there is any special reason why in this matter the +Marquis of LONDONDERRY should be treated differently from Captain +BELLINGHAM?" + +PREMIER not to be drawn into the controversy. Duties of _aide-de-camp_ +to the KING, unlike those of _aide-de-camp_ to LORD-LIEUTENANT, are, he +said, of entirely honorary character. In such circumstances he did not +think it worth while to take notice of the matter. + +Effect of the reply designedly chilling; object of question attained by +publicly submitting it. AMERY "wishes he hadn't spoke." + +The PREMIER'S imperturbability stood him in even greater stead at later +proceedings. On going into Committee of Supply, HOPE of Sheffield moved +reduction of his salary on account of alleged failure to take necessary +steps to maintain high standard of single-minded disinterestedness in +public service. Though nominally concerned with the PREMIER and the +public service HOPE told a flattering tale which was a thinly veiled +attack on that meek personage the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER. + +ARCHER-SHEE, who followed, was less circuitous in his retrograde march +on old Marconi quarters. Soon had Committee in state of uproar vainly +combated by those champions of order, WINTERTON, ARTHUR MARKHAM and +SWIFT MACNEILL. WINTERTON, whilst constitutionally forceful, was +irresistibly irrelevant. Member for Pontefract venturing to offer an +observation, WINTERTON shouted, "Order, pigeons!" + +Of course there were no pigeons about. An active mind, quick to seize a +point, had harked back to DICK TURPIN BOOTH'S ride to Yorkshire in a +race with carrier pigeons. + +MARKHAM denounced ARCHER-SHEE for delivering "a low attack that could +not be answered." Accusation summarised by other Members with yell of +"Coward!" + +As for SWIFT MACNEILL, ARCHER-SHEE presuming to rise simultaneously with +one of his many upgettings, he turned upon him and roared, "Sit down, +Sir!" Gallant Major so terrified that he incontinently fell back in his +seat. + +To general discussion Members from various quarters of House contributed +the observations, "Dirty lies!" "Coward!" "Caddish!" "Unspeakably low!" +"Shut up!" Only for coolness, courage and prompt decision of WHITLEY in +the Chair discreditable scene would have worthily taken its place among +others that smirch pages of Parliamentary record. Having occupied two +hours of time assumed to be valuable it died out from sheer exhaustion. +On division what was avowedly vote of censure on PREMIER negatived by +majority of 152. + +_Business done._--Summer storm in Committee of Supply. + + * * * + +Illustration: _Lord MORLEY._"Thanks, I won't trouble you; I still +have a crust left." + +["The noble marquis seemed to regard the Government as a shipwrecked +mariner--I presume a pirate. If I am a pirate he is the last man to whom +I should think of applying for aid, unless the distress was dire +indeed." + +_Lord MORLEY._] + + * * * + +_House of Lords, Thursday._--Second night of debate on Amending Bill to +modify a measure not yet enacted. House crowded, evidently weighed down +by a sense of direct responsibility at grave crisis. _Le brave_ +WILLOUGHBY DE BROKE has no patience with attitude of noble lords on +Front Opposition Bench. Is congenitally prone to take a short way with +dissenters. Came to the fore five years ago, when what HALDANE called +LLOYD GEORGE'S first great Budget (eclipsed by his second) fell like a +bomb in the Parliamentary arena. Whilst elder peers were disposed to +temporise in view of constitutional difficulty, WILLOUGHBY had only +three words to say--"Throw it out!"--MILNER adding a fearless remark +about the consequences whose emphasis has been excelled only by Mrs. +PATRICK CAMPBELL in _Pygmalion_. So the Budget was shattered on the rock +of the House of Lords, and in swift reprisal with it went the supremacy +of that ancient institution. + +Less effectual in his resistance to the Parliament Act which promptly +followed, DE BROKE is insistent upon treating the Amending Bill as the +Budget of 1909 was treated. Has moved its rejection and, in spite of +HALSBURY, threatens to go to a division. + +Meanwhile LANSDOWNE, in weighty speech worthy great occasion, announces +intention of voting for Second Reading of Bill, with intent to amend it +in Committee. Originally planned that division should be taken to-night. +So many peers have something to say that it is postponed till Monday. + +_Business done._--Debate on Amending (Home Rule) Bill continued. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THE "FRESH AIR FUND": AN APPRECIATION. + +"THERE, NOW, AIN'T THAT A TREAT, BILLY? THERE AIN'T NO COUNTRY IN THE +WORLD I LIKE SO MUCH AS ENGLAND." + + * * * * * + +THE NEW PROFESSIONAL HUMILITY. + + ["I have always held a decided opinion that the less people trouble + themselves about literature the better for them."--_M. PIERRE LOTI_ + (vide "_Daily Chronicle._")] + +_Sir THOMAS LIPTON._ How can a tea-drinking people hope to lift the Cup? +Tannin is a poison fatal to the true sportsman. + +_The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER._ The interest taken in politics +diverts attention from everything that really matters. + +_The POET LAUREATE._ Poetry is not only a drug on the market, it is a +drug that narcotises and debilitates all true manhood. + +_Mr. EUSTACE H. MILES._ Vegetarianism is fit only for pigs. The noble +king of the forest is a meat-eater. + +_Lord ROBERTS._ The military bias is the only obstacle to peace. + +_Mme. CLARA BUTT._ The human voice was given us for fish-hawking and +encouraging football-players, not for singing. + +_Sir H. BEERBOHM TREE._ I cannot think why anyone goes to the theatre. +It bores me horribly. + +_Mr. H. G. WELLS._ The past alone possesses interest for intelligent +men. + +_Mr. G. K. CHESTERTON._ Orthodoxy, it has been said, is my doxy; +heterodoxy is other people's doxy; but paradoxy is the devil's doxy. + +_Sir E. ELGAR._ Music? How can any serious man fiddle while Home is +burning? + +_Sir E. J. POYNTER._ The Royal Academy is crushing the life out of +English Art. The country's only hope is in Cubism. + +_Signor MARINETTI._ Your Royal Academy is the true Temple of Art. I +never cross its threshold without first removing my sandals. + + * * * * * + +A RECORD CAST. + + "A 3 lb. 15 oz. chub has been taken at Abingdon by Mr. A. Owen near + Henley." + + _Field._ + + * * * * * + +Illustration: WHY SHOULD NOT PERSEVERING PETER OF THE PUSH-BIKE ADOPT, +WHEN TRAVELLING, THE SAME SUPERCILIOUS ATTITUDE AS LANGUID LIONEL OF THE +TOURING-CAR DE LUXE. + + * * * * * + +THE JESTING OF JANE. + +(_In which it is explained how competent I am to keep the servants in +their places even when their mistress is away._) + + I like a good practical joke; as the garland adorning + The hair of a maiden it shines, as the balm that is shed + On the brain of a wandering minstrel; it comes without warning, + Transmuting to gold an existence that once was as lead. + It glads, it rejoices the soul; recollecting it after + One well-nigh explodes; but I say there are seasons for laughter, + And, like other great men, I am not at my best in the morning + When just out of bed. + + So it was that last week, when the pitiless glare of Apollo + Was toasting the lawn till it looked like a segment of mat, + When I came to my breakfast at length from a lingering wallow + In a bath that professed to be cold--as I moodily sat + And observed how the heat on the pavements was momently doubling, + And hated the coffee for looking so brown and so bubbling, + And hated my paper, which seemed to expect me to follow + A prize-fight (my hat!)-- + + When I heard a great noise as though heaven was breaking asunder, + And "Thanks be to glory," said I, "for this merciful dole; + The rain! the beneficent rain! Will it lighten, I wonder? + I need not pack up, after all, for my cruise to the Pole;" + And my spirits revived and my appetite seemed to awaken, + And I said so to Jane as she brought in the kidneys and bacon; + I was vexed when she answered me pertly, "Why, that isn't thunder; + We're taking in coal!" + + I say there _are_ limits. The girl may be decent and sunny, + Industrious, sober and what not; I don't care a bit; + But she hasn't a right on a day such as that to be funny, + With the glass at 120, confound her, the chit! + I refuse to submit to the whimsical wheeze of a servant + Just because Araminta's away and the weather is fervent, + So I said to her, "Wench, do you fancy you're taking my money + For work or for wit? + + "What are parlourmaids coming to now with their insolent banter? + Command those uproarious ruffians to hop it, to _trek_ + And fetch me a siphon or two and the whisky decanter; + Your notions of humour have left me exhausted and weak; + Take the breakfast away; disappointment has vanquished my hunger, + And afterwards go out at once to the nearest fishmonger + And order two cart-loads of icebergs. Obey me _instanter_, + Or leave in a week." + + EVOE. + + * * * * * + +"Although weighing over 13 tons, Glendinning declares that an +aircraft built from his designs could sail round the world without the +slightest danger of calamity."--_Glasgow Herald._ + +Subject for Silly Season--Should Stout Men Boast? + + * * * * * + +RUBBING IT IN. + + [_The following article appears to have been intended for a popular + Halfpenny Daily, but as it has been sent to us we feel entitled to + print it._] + +TERRIFIC STRUGGLE. + +MR. LOWLY DEFEATS MR. GORMAN CRAWL. + +HOW I DID IT. BY FERDINAND LOWLY. + +Mr. Gorman Crawl's efforts to avoid defeat in his match with me in the +semi-finals of the Dartmoor and West Dorset Championship was, I think, +the finest exhibition of Lawn Tennis that has been seen for many a long +day, and I congratulate those who were so fortunate as to witness the +game. In the second set particularly, Mr. Crawl's play exhibited a +consistent accuracy combined with activity of resource and hard hitting +which, so far as I am aware, has rarely been equalled in the history of +the pastime. He frequently returned drives down the side lines and cross +volleys which I have always regarded as untakable, putting me in the +position of having to repeat those strokes several times before I could +make the ace. Even in the third set, Mr. Crawl certainly did not lose +heart, as many might have done; in fact he gained vigour to such an +extent that his play in the last games became not merely impetuous, but +frenzied. Had I not possessed an iron nerve, Mr. Gorman Crawl might have +snatched a game or two; and I feel sorry for my opponent when I recall +that he only made five points in the set, one of which was due to a net +cord stroke, and another to my accidentally treading on a ball. The +final scores, as set forth in the "Stop Press" columns of one of the +evening papers, were as follows:-- + + "Crawl beat Lowly ... 6--0. 6--0. 6--0," + +and if the reader reverses the statement he will know the correct +result. Mr. Gorman Crawl, after an exhibition which stultifies previous +conceptions of what is possible in the way of offensive and defensive +tactics, and which refutes once and for all the leading contentions in +Mr. Wail's monumental work on the game, was beaten by me in three love +sets. + +The game opened by my serving a double fault. I then found that I was +using my Thursday's racket instead of Tuesday's. After a brief recess, +during which, as I am informed, Mr. Gorman Crawl took in his belt one +hole, the game proceeded. I served to my opponent's back hand, but, +contrary to all rules laid down by Mr. Wail, he unexpectedly returned +the ball to _my_ back hand. The result was that I failed to reach it. It +then occurred to me that I ought to make sure I had no gravel in my +shoes. I did this without leaving the court. When I had replaced my +footwear and was preparing to serve again, I saw that Mr. Gorman Crawl +was lying on the ground, apparently asleep. He started up, however, on +the score being called a second time, and the game proceeded. + +Noticing that my opponent was standing a long way back, I now made a +display of hitting the ball hard and then dropped it just over the net. +Mr. Crawl did not notice what was happening till too late, and I not +only took the ace but had the satisfaction of noticing that my opponent +was breathing hard after his fruitless effort to reach the ball. I had, +so to speak, drawn first blood. I repeated the ruse with my next +service. Mr. Crawl, being now on the alert, reached the ball, but was +unable to stop himself, and charged into the net, and the score was +called "thirty all." A third time I brought off a drop serve; the ball +was returned and I then tossed it with an undercut stroke to the base +line. Mr. Crawl ran back, but the ball bounding high and with a strong +break he lost sight of it, and after some intricate manoeuvres, in +which he had the advantage of advice from the crowd, it eventually fell +on his head, and I scored the ace. I had now only to make one point to +reach the game, and I effected this by a high-kicking service that left +my opponent petrified. + +During the set Mr. Crawl gradually got into his game, and, thanks to a +strong instinct of self-preservation, he succeeded in returning, when up +at the net, many of my drives at his chest and head which I had thought +were sure of their mark. His play in the last rally, when the score +stood at "5 games to 0 and 40 love" in my favour, called forth loud +applause, and I had to do all I knew to prevent him winning an ace which +might have resulted in his eventually capturing the game. + +At this point an incident occurred which has been variously reported. +The facts are that, before embarking on the second set, Mr. Gorman Crawl +petitioned the referee that I should be required to remove my tie. The +tie referred to is my well-known tennis tie. It is a Mascot, as I +associate all my successes on the court during the past four years with +this tie. It is a large scarlet bow with vivid green and white spots the +size of halfpenny pieces, arranged astigmatically. Mr. Crawl said the +cravat held his eye and put him off his game, and complained that there +were so many spots in front of him that he did not know which was the +ball. I am glad to be able to add the testimony of such a first string +man as Mr. Gorman Crawl to the merits of the "Lowly Patent Tennis Tie" +(Registered No. 273125/1911, price _2s. 9d._, of all Gunsmiths and +Sports Outfitters). I explained to the referee that the tie was a +well-known patent and that, if he ruled it out and disqualified the tie, +a promising industry would be irretrievably ruined. The referee +naturally declined to take such a responsibility and ordered the game to +proceed, and we took our places on the course. When, however, I faced +Mr. Crawl I found that he had pulled down the sleeve of his shirt over +his hand and buttoned it round the handle of his racket. The effect was +most disconcerting, for the racket appeared to be part of his body--as +if, in fact, he had two elbow joints, and the face of the bat was the +palm of his hand. Moreover it was impossible to anticipate the direction +of his shots. When forty love had been scored against me I appealed to +the referee. The result of that interview was that M. Gorman Crawl +courteously unbuttoned his sleeve, and I with equal courtesy removed my +tie. The episode was greeted with loud applause, and for my part I felt +amply repaid for the sacrifice I had made by the gain in popularity. + +I have already referred to the strenuous character of Mr. Gorman Crawl's +efforts in this set. The following is the rally for the third ace in the +fifth game, given in the notation invented by Mr. Wail, though not yet +generally adopted. The diagram will be found in the third volume of Mr. +Wail's book, _How to be always right_. + + CRAWL. LOWLY. + + 1. RS to SL2. 1. BR1 to LK5. + 2. LP3 to RT4. 2. KL to LK4. + 3. PK4 to LK5. (Ch.) 4. K x R. + 5. P x K. 5. B x P. + 6. Resigns. + +At the conclusion of the match I shook hands with Mr. Gorman Crawl +across the net before he could leave the court, and loudly congratulated +him on his brilliant struggle. I now have to meet Mr. "U. R. Beete" in +the final round, and if successful my match for the Championship with +Mr. "Y. R. U. Sadd" will be played, weather permitting, on Tuesday at 3 +o'clock, and should be well worth seeing. + + NOTES. + +Mr. Gasp has exchanged the cheese scoop, which is identified with the +championship of South Rutlandshire, for a fish-slice. + +Mr. Bloshclick, who lately won the South-West Devon Singles +Championship at Sidmouth, is not a native of Antananarivo, as has been +stated, but is, we are informed, of Zulu origin. + +We regret to report that Mr. Wail met with an unfortunate accident at +Broadstairs ten days ago. As a spectator at the annual Lawn Tennis +Tournament he was demonstrating to a group of experts the methods which +Mr. Wilding ought properly to employ in making his lifting forehand +drive, when he struck himself a violent blow on the head, partly +severing the right ear. This is the second time Mr. Wail has met with +the accident, but we are glad to hear that he is making a satisfactory +recovery. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Tramp_ (_suddenly appearing at riverside camping +party_). "BEG YER PARDON, GUV'NOR, BUT COULD YER LEND ME A BATHIN' +SUIT?" + + * * * * * + + "Cigarette Makers (Female), round and flat."--_Advt. in "Daily + Chronicle."_ + +Who makes round cigarettes (or flat) should herself be round (or flat) +respectively. + + * * * * * + + "WANTED.--Anything old to do with the Church or Church Services; + preference given to examples with dates or inscriptions." + + _Advt. in "The Challenge."_ + +We were just going to offer our Vicar, but he has no inscription on him. + + * * * * * + +PLATITUDES: THE NEW GAME. + +It is based on "Bromides" and any one can play it. The least educated +has a chance of winning and an Oxford degree is no bar to success--quite +the reverse, in fact; indeed I have known dons.... + +This is how it is played. Two people are seated in easy-chairs, for it +has been found that you cannot be too comfortable for this game; any +discomfort is apt to excite the mind, to disturb the grey matter, to +interfere with that complete repose which is so essential a feature of +the contest. These two are the players. They indulge in small talk and +the smaller talker wins. The object of each player is to make such +inanely conventional remarks that his opponent is reduced to silence. +For example you are sitting next to a bishop, and it falls to you to +start the conversation. Of course you don't say anything like "How sad +about this Kikuyu business." No, you open like this. "Are you fond of +dancing?" you say. The bishop will reply coldly, "It is many years since +I danced." You sigh and murmur, "Ah! the dear old days!" I cannot +imagine what his lordship will say next. + +Of course the conversation in Platitudes must be connected and coherent. +There is no use repeating "Wollah wollah, gollah gollah, ASQUITH must +go, We want eight," or things of that sort. And you must not make mere +blank statements like "The number of cigars annually imported into the +U.S.A. is 26,714,811," unless they can be introduced deftly into the +conversation. + +You must imagine yourself paying a call in a London drawing-room, and +you must say nothing that would not be possible and indeed suitable in +that _milieu_. To attempt to arouse any interest or show any +intelligence is wrong, but then neither must you betray any sign of +actual imbecility. Anything that approaches gibbering cannot be too +strongly condemned. + +The players speak in turn and quotations are not allowed (at least not +from living writers). The question as to whose talk is the smaller of +the two is so much a matter of taste that the game can only be decided +by an umpire or by the votes of the spectators. But there is seldom +much doubt. It is not uncommon for one of the players to break down and +become almost hysterical, and few can hold out long against one of the +champions. Some people allow facial expression and general demeanour to +count, but this I do not recommend. It gives some an unfair advantage, +and I have known it lead to unpleasantness. + +Perhaps a short sample will give a better idea of the game than any +description. I take one from a little tournament in which I competed a +few days ago. I was highly commended, but it was thought I displayed a +little too much intelligence. This is one of the pleasing features of +Platitudes; when one loses, things like that are somehow said, as they +are never said, for instance, at Bridge. From this specimen the beginner +will learn the right style and method. Only by study of the best models +and by constant practice can he attain anything like proficiency. + +_He._ What a world we live in, do we not? (_This is a very common +opening._) + +_She._ Yes, to be sure. Dear, dear! + +_He._ The age is so complex, so full of rush and hurry. Everyone is +running after money, are they not? + +_She._ They are not. I mean they are. + +_He_ (_heaving a sigh_). How sad it is! + +_She_ (_in a tone of gentle correction_). It is deplorable. Did you read +Mr. Goldstein's speech the other day? I thought it so sweet! He said +that the possession of wealth entailed great responsibilities. + +_He._ How like him! (_After a pause_) And how true! Yes, things are in a +bad way. + +_She._ How one deplores these strikes. + +_He_ (_sternly_). They ought to be shot. + +_She._ Too dreadful. I think it is so terrible when quite nice people +are positively inconvenienced. It makes one think of the French +Revolution. + +_He._ Ah! Yes, the French Revolution. Well, well, the good old days are +gone. + +_She._ Yes, they have quite gone. + +_He_ (_sighing heavily_). Dear, dear, dear, dear! May I have some +teacake? + +_She._ Oh do! but I'm afraid they're cold. + +_He._ I like them cold. I think they are so much cooler then. + +_She._ They are a shade less warm. + +[_There was a short interval here when the supporters of each party +gathered round and gave advice and encouragement. The lady seemed as +fresh as a fiddle, but the man was very exhausted and had to have a +spirituous stimulant. After a quarter-of-an-hour's interval the game was +resumed._] + +_She._ Look at the fashionable ladies and their dogs! The sums they +lavish on them! + +_He._ Oh, it's disgraceful. The Government ought to do something. + +_She._ I call it wicked. + +_He_ (_much struck with this_). You are quite right. + +_She._ But mind you, I'm fond of animals myself. + +_He._ Oh, so am I. I dote on dogs. You know, I call the horse a noble +animal--that's what I call the horse. + +_She_ (_after a pause_). I call the camel the ship of the desert. + +_He._ Ah, very witty, very clever. I see you have a sense of humour. +"Ship of the desert"--that's good. + +_She._ Yes, I don't know what I should have done without my sense of +humour. + +_He_ (_sharply_). No more do I. + +_She_ (_confidentially_). You know, I think dogs should be treated _as_ +dogs. They should be kept in their proper places. I like them best in +the country, you know. Don't you? + +_He._ Yes. I think the country is the place for all animals. One sees so +many there--at least in some places. + +_She._ I am so fond of the country. It is so restful. The old oaks and +the buttercups and the village rector and the dear cows. I don't know +what we should do without them. + +_He._ That's what I say. Where would England be without the country? + +_She._ Ah, yes. "Far from the madding crowd," as the poet says. + +_He._ Yes. What a great poet MILTON is, to be sure. + +_She._ Oh, delightful! And don't you like Miss WHEELER WILCOX? + +_He._ Of course--ripping, yes, of course. Her poems of pleasure--her +poems of passion, her--well, in fact, all her poems. + +_She._ Quite. + +At this point the man broke down altogether and began to gibber. But he +recovered in time to see the prize unanimously voted to the lady. This +consisted of a volume of Mr. ----, but perhaps I had better not mention +names; it might be liable to misconstruction. I hope I have said enough +to show what a fascinating and delightful game it is. No appliances are +required (as with dominoes), except one's own nimble brain; and I think +Platitudes will soon sweep the country. Signs are not wanting that +Clumps and Dumb Crambo are already becoming back numbers in the best +circles. + + * * * * * + + "The military dirigible Koerting made the wound in the leg of Baron + de Rothschild. It was found to have flattened itself against the + bone."--_Egyptian Mail._ + +"The Koerting; so it is," said the Baron, when shown the X-ray +photograph of his calf. + + * * * * * + +TOURS IN FACT AND FANCY. + + Tell me not of Western Islands + Or some bonnie loch or ben + Of those hustled haunts, the Highlands; + I'm not going there again. + + Cease from cackling so cocksurely + Of some heavenly woodland dell + Where the pipes of Pan blow purely; + I have sampled these as well. + + Do not harp upon your hollow + Tales of Somewhere-by-the-Sea + Patronised by Ph. Apollo; + 'Tisn't good enough for me. + + No, nor urge me, friend, to hasten + To your "cloudless alien climes," + Hungering for my Fleece like Jason-- + I've been fleeced there many times. + + No, not one of your romances + Can, I say, provide a lure; + Not one spot on earth's expanses + For my ailment find a cure. + + Others may enjoy each jolly day + Somewhere with their hard-earned pelf; + But, for me, I want a holiday + From my super-silly self. + + * * * * * + +THE NUT. + +From a story in _Munsey's Magazine_: + + "My father was a clergyman in a college community; and that explains + my home in a nutshell." + +It doesn't. The father should have been a vegetarian in a Garden City +community. + + * * * * * + + "Captain Roald Amundsen has qualified for his pilot's certificate at + the military camp near Christiania. An officer of the Flying Corps + first took him for a preliminary flight round the course, showing + him what tests were required. Suddenly the elevator broke and the + aeroplane fell nose downwards to the ground 40 feet below. Captain + Amundsen escaped unhurt."--_South Wales Echo._ + +So he got through the first test all right. + + * * * * * + +"SMALL SURREY SCORE. + + ONLY HAYES AND HITCH SHINE AT NORTHAMPTON." + + _Westminster Gazette._ + +Surrey should have been at home, where HAYES and HITCH would have found +an excellent third in Old Sol, who shone at his best. + + * * * * * + + "CLACTON.--A Lady would be glad to hear of anyone wishing to Join + House-Party from August 14th to September 10th. Minute from sea and + ten golf links."--_Advt. in "Times."_ + +Personally we find that, at our usual rate of divot-removing, five +golf-links will last us a month. Ten is an unnecessary extravagance. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: _Polite little boy_ (_suffering from repletion_). "OH, +PLEASE MISS, DON'T ASK ME TO HAVE ANY MORE; I CAN'T SAY NO." + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks_). + +I think I should have detected what was the primary Trouble with _A Lad +of Kent_ (MACMILLAN) if Mr. HERBERT HARRISON had given me any +opportunity of studying _Lord Haresfield_ at closer quarters. Upon the +material vouchsafed it was impossible to spot in him the villain of the +piece; I was only allowed to meet him at two brief interviews, +throughout which he was consistently courteous and kind, with nothing of +the murderer about him. There was, in this connection, not only +_suppressio veri_, but even some _suggestio falsi_; at any rate I still +have great difficulty in believing that a man so obviously intelligent +and diplomatic could have initiated schemes so unnecessarily elaborate +and entirely incompetent for the mere removal of an unknown and +fatherless village youth. I make these observations only as in duty +bound; for myself, I didn't care twopence who was trying to get rid of +_Phillip_, or why. Provided they didn't succeed, I was content to leave +them at it and enjoy the fascinating picture of life in a sea-coast +village in the good old days when everybody was busy either in +preventing or assisting the "free trade" when a press-gang might come +along at any moment and steal a man or two without so much as by your +leave, and, generally speaking, things moved. Mr. HARRISON has a +delightful style, a perfect sympathy with the times of which he writes, +and no small gift of characterization. Frankly, I don't believe he +attaches any more importance to his plot than I do, for he is quite +content to leave it to itself for several chapters on end. + + * * * + +_The Double House_ (STANLEY PAUL) began attractively with a retired +Indian colonel who had a mysterious sorrow and wished to betake himself +to some quiet English hamlet "where echoes from his past might never +penetrate." Of course this could hardly be called wise of the Colonel; +the slightest knowledge of quiet English neighbourhoods in fiction or +the drama might have assured him that towards the end of Act I somebody +was simply bound to turn up who knew all. However, he rented one half of +a divided old manor house, and, even when informed that the other half +was inhabited by a widow of quiet habits, he apparently did not share my +own instant certainty that there were coincidences ahead. As a matter of +fact E. EVERETT-GREEN, the author, had so arranged matters that this +lady was the sister-in-law of a wicked murderer, for whose crime the +gallant _Colonel_ had himself been tried. So much for his past; but as a +matter of fact that of the lady was ever so much more sinister. She had, +it appeared, married a gentleman called _Paul Enderby_, only to learn +after the ceremony that her husband had a twin-brother _Saul_, who must +have been the twinniest twin that ever breathed, since at no moment +could any living soul tell the two apart. I won't harrow you with +details, but the confusion was such that, even after the unlamented +decease of _Paul_, poor bewildered _Mrs. Enderby_ was by no means sure +that she wasn't only a bereaved sister-in-law. Her sad plight reminded +me of nothing so much as that of the lady in _Engaged_ who entreated to +have three questions answered: "Am I a widow, and if so how came I to be +a widow, and whose widow came I to be?" The great difference between the +two cases is that this of _Mrs. Enderby_ is meant to be taken with +solemnity--a task that I regret to add was too heavy for me. I am only +sorry that so charming a title as _The Double House_ has been so sadly +wasted. + + * * * + +If a wicked male novelist had dared to write _Jacynth_ (CONSTABLE) I +tremble to imagine the things that certain fair critics would have said +about him. But since a woman is the creator, and one, moreover, with the +well-won reputation of Miss STELLA CALLAGHAN, what is there to say? +After all she must know. As a portrait of futility, _Jacynth_ is the +most mercilessly realistic thing that I have met for some time. Pretty, +brainless, egotistical, utterly unable ever to understand even the least +of the men who loved her--this was _Jacynth_. The picture is so +unsparing that (though I am not calling the book a masterpiece or free +from dull moments) the very completeness of the dreadful thing +fascinates you unwillingly. _Jacynth_ was the typical product of a +seaside town, where she was adored by two men--a young squire and a +famous novelist. I was just a little bored by her beginnings, especially +when she sprained her ankle--a gambit I had imagined _demode_ even with +the most provincial of heroines. However, _Jacynth_ married the +novelist, and after the honeymoon settled down to a steady course of +fatuousness and general interference with his work which presently +reduced the poor man to exasperation, and finally constrained him to +pack her off on a prolonged visit to the seaside home of her maidenhood. +After that _Jacynth_ went from worse to worst; too preposterous a fool +even to be greatly moved when she brought tragedy into the lives of +those who came under her malign influence. I will not follow her +vicissitudes in detail. Throughout the book the most sinister thing in +her story was to me the fact that a woman had written it. Moreover I +have a lurking suspicion that the portrait is no imaginary one. Perhaps +this is a high tribute to Miss CALLAGHAN'S skill; it certainly is meant +to be a compliment to her courage. + + * * * + + I've often longed to come upon + Some giant spoor and dog the track till + I ran to earth a mastodon, + A dinosaur, a pterodactyl; + But I supposed my natal date-- + However distantly I view it-- + Was several thousand years too late + To give me any chance to do it. + + And yet Sir ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE + Has found a man who's penetrated + Through bush and swamp on virgin soil + And seen the things I've indicated, + Creatures with names that clog your pen-- + Dimorphodon and plesiosaurus-- + And carried home a specimen + To silence any doubting chorus. + + In _The Lost World_[A] the tale is told + (SMITH, ELDER do it cheap) in diction + So circumstantial that its hold + Is more than that of common fiction; + If you can run the story through, + By aid of portraits when you need it, + And not be half convinced it's true, + You simply don't deserve to read it. + +[Footnote A: New Edition, with illustrations.] + + * * * + +There is nothing wrong with Mr. EDEN PHILLPOTTS' latest collection of +short stories, _The Judge's Chair_ (MURRAY), but there is something +vigorously to protest against upon the wrapper that covers them. For +there I found an uncompromising statement to the effect that these +stories "bring to a conclusion the author's Dartmoor work," and no +sooner had I read it than my heart sank into my heels. Solemnly I plead +with him to reconsider this decision, for if he does not his innumerable +admirers will be deprived of something almost as annual and quite as +enjoyable as Christmas. If he wants a holiday let him have one by all +means, though personally I was not pleased when he left Dartmoor for +Italy. But let it be only a holiday, a break in his real business. As +for the book, I advise everyone who can appreciate dry humour and quaint +philosophy to sit behind _The Judge's Chair_. "The Two Farmers" is in +its way a masterpiece, grim and very real, and there is not the ghost of +a sign in the whole collection that Mr. PHILLPOTTS has written of +Dartmoor until he is tired of it or it of him. He has made a niche for +himself in that old temple of Nature, and we must all try to persuade +him to stay there. + + * * * + +I have been reading a book, written by the Rev. H. S. PELHAM, and +published by MACMILLAN, which is at least twenty times as absorbing and +moving as any novel. It is called _The Training of a Working Boy_. I +daresay you may have met with other volumes on something like the same +theme before, and may suppose you know all about camps and evening +schools and blind-alley employment and the rest of it. But I am pretty +well sure that you have read nothing more practical and human on the +questions of boydom. It is, indeed, the humanity, sympathetic and more +than half humorous, of Mr. PELHAM'S attitude that gives his book its +appeal and incidentally, I fancy, explains his success with the object +of it. His little volume is a plea for personal rather than pecuniary +help, and is directed more especially to Midlanders, since its chief +concern is with the boy population of Birmingham. I can only wish for it +the largest possible number of readers in the shires and elsewhere, +since to read it is inevitably to be moved to active sympathy. + + * * * * * + +Illustration: THIS PICTURE ILLUSTRATES THE DEADLY STRUGGLE WHICH GOES +ON DAILY BETWEEN RIVAL SEASIDE RESORTS. IT REPRESENTS A PARTY OF +HIRELINGS IN THE PAY OF WOBBLETHORPE-ON-SEA ENGAGED IN RUNNING UP THE +RAINFALL OF LITTLE BLINKINGTON. + + * * * * * + + "The selection of a player for the leading _role_, that of Pallas + Athene, the beautiful goddess of Greek mythology, was successfully + accomplished when Miss Genevieve Clark, the pretty and vivacious + daughter of Speaker Clark, consented to take the part. Those who + know Miss Clark and Greek mythology will realise at once that there + will be a natural affinity between the player and the character." + + _Washington (D. C.) Post._ + +We never actually met Pallas Athene, but have always heard of her as +being neither very pretty nor vivacious. + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, Vol. +147, July 8, 1914, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, JULY 8, 1914 *** + +***** This file should be named 29217.txt or 29217.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/1/29217/ + +Produced by Neville Allen, Hagay Giller, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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