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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/30593-8.txt b/30593-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..028489a --- /dev/null +++ b/30593-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2323 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +CLVIII, January 7, 1920, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. CLVIII, January 7, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: December 3, 2009 [EBook #30593] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH-CHARIVARI, JANUARY 7, 1920 *** + + + + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Jonathan Ingram and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOLUME 158, JANUARY 7, 1920 + +[Illustration: Punch. Vol. CLVIII.] + + LONDON: + PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.4. + 1920. + + + Bradbury, Agnew & Co., Ltd., + Printers, + Whitefriars, London, E.C.4. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: VOLUME CLVIII.] + + * * * * * + +NEW WELLS FOR OLD. + +Over the top of Part II. of _The Outline of History_ I caught the +smiling glance of the man in the opposite corner of the compartment. + +"Good stuff that," he said, indicating the History with a jerk of his +head. + +"Quite," I agreed, maintaining my distance. + +"Immense," he continued. "And it means the dawn of a new life for +me. I'm WELLS'S hero. Every time I've appeared in his half-yearly +masterpiece, ever since _Tono Bungay_. And look at the mess he's made +of my life. Often I've had to start it under the cloud of mysterious +parentage. Invariably I have been endowed with a Mind (capital M). +Think of those uphill fights of mine against adverse conditions. +And my unhappy marriages. He has led me into every variation of +infidelity. When I _did_ hit it off with my wife for once, he sent us +to the Arctic regions as a punishment. In the depth of winter, too. + +But, now he's taken up this History, I'm free. The dam has burst and +strange things come floating down ..." + +He sprang to his feet in his excitement. He was wearing a +loose-fitting suit and what his master might call a lower middle-class +hat. + +"And now I'm going to do all the things I've always wanted to do. A +happy marriage; well-ordered life in the suburbs; warm slippers in the +fender, and all that that stands for; kinemas, perhaps, and bowls. An +allotment ..." + +"But," I objected, "this History won't occupy him for ever. There +should be only about sixteen more parts. He'll have you out again next +autumn." + +"But WELLS is getting the Suburban idea too." He was standing right +over me, glaring horribly with excitement. The train had entered a +tunnel and he was shouting bravely against the din. "Look in Part +I. He acknowledges the help he has received from Mrs. WELLS. And her +watchful criticism. That from _him_! I tell you I am free--free!" + +He was shaking me by the shoulders now, his face close to mine. "I +shall have my allotment. Prize parsnips--giant marrows!" + +"Don't be too sure," I yelled--the tunnel seemed endless. "Remember +poor old _Sherlock_. DOYLE raised _him_ from the dead. And you"--my +voice rising to a scream--"he'll have you out--out--OUT!" + + * * * * * + +As I came to I heard my dentist remark to the doctor that I always had +been a bad patient under gas. + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH ON SILK STOCKINGS. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Your article about Christmas presents was a great +success. I took your advice about the silk stockings, and sent the +following verses with them, which some of your married readers may +care to cut out and keep for future use:-- + + Your stockings once, on Christmas Eve, + Would hang, your cot adorning, + And Father Christmas, we believe, + Would fill them ere the morning; + But since he spied your dainty toes + To exchange the parts he's willing: + He thinks it's his to send the hose + And yours to find the filling. + He lays his offerings at your feet + And hopes you won't deride them, + For he has nothing half so neat + As you to put inside them. + +There! I can only repeat that the results were excellent, and express +my gratitude to you for the same. + + Yours obediently, + GRATEFUL HUSBAND. + +P.S.--The ties I got this time were quite all right; she too must have +read your article. + + * * * * * + +NATURE AND ART. + +_To Betty, who can afford to defy the laws of symmetry._ + + [Being reflections on the old theory, recently developed + before the Hellenic Society by Mr. JAY HAMBRIDGE, that certain + formulæ of proportions found in nature--notably in the normal + ratio between a man's height and the span of his outstretched + arms (2: [**square root] 5)--constituted the basis of symmetry + in the art of the Greeks and, earlier, of the Egyptians.] + + Betty, I fear you don't conform + Precisely to the female norm + From dainty foot to charming noddle, + But, closely measured, span by span, + Seem built upon a private plan + Not found in ANNIE KELLERMAN + Or in the well-known Melos model. + + If you compare your width and height-- + Arms horizontal, left and right-- + With ancient types of pure perfection, + The ratio may not, it's true, + Be as the root of 5 to 2, + But what, my dear, has that to do + With laws of natural selection? + + Let Mr. HAMBRIDGE to your shape + Apply his T-square and his tape, + And wish that you were more archaic; + Why should I care? I love you best + For what no compasses can test, + For graces not to be expressed + In terms however algebraic. + + I love you for the lips and eyes + That none may hope to standardize + On any system known to Hellas; + And what I like about your smile + Has no relation to the style + Of any pyramid of Nile + Figured by mathematic fellahs. + + Though your proportions mayn't agree + With FECHNER'S pedant formulæ, + I don't complain of such disparity; + Too flawless that perfection shows; + For me a larger comfort flows + From human failings (take your nose-- + I like its quaint irregularity). + + Indeed I love you best of all + For those defects by which you fall + Short of the pattern you should follow; + As I would fain be loved for mine, + Speaking as one whose own design + Lacks something of the perfect line + Affected by the young Apollo. + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +HOW TO GAIN A JOURNALISTIC POSITION. + +Young aspirants are always endeavouring to secure posts on our leading +newspapers, and complain bitterly that their letters of application +are ignored by obtuse editors. To help them in this sad ambition Mr. +Punch has composed a series of letters to divers editors which he +guarantees will prove eminently satisfactory. + +_To the Editor of "The Daily News."_ + +SIR,--I regard the insufferable LLOYD GEORGE as the most dangerous, +the most malignant, the most incompetent politician who has ever +attempted to misrule this country. The iniquity of the Coalition will +make enlightened rulers like LENIN and TROTSKY blush for the human +race. I feel with you that till the real Liberal party returns to +power England will never know peace and prosperity. Then and then only +will brotherly friendship between England and Germany be renewed. Then +and then only shall we see cheap milk, cheap coal, abundant housing, +the Free Breakfast Table and the Large Cocoa Cup. To show my devotion +to the cause you so nobly advocate I may say that I have actually +read every article contributed by Mr. MASTERMAN to your paper. I am +strongly in favour of an _entente_ with Labour, by which Labour should +agree not to contest any seats where the true Asquithians stand a +chance. I enclose as a specimen of my work the first of a series +of articles on "How LLOYD GEORGE lost the War," which I am sure +will be invaluable at by-elections. + +_To the Editor of "The Daily Mail."_ + +SIR,--I am young and, if possible, growing younger daily. My motto +is "Hustle and Bustle" and not "Dilly and Dally." I live on standard +bread, in a wooden hut embowered, when feasible, with sweet peas. My +ear is always close to the ground, and I can confidently predict what +the man in the street will be thinking about the day after tomorrow. +Politically, I am opposed to the Wastrels, the Wee Frees and the +Bolsheviks, and am not prepared as yet to back Labour unreservedly. +I can express myself brightly and briefly on any topical subject. +Herewith I send specimen articles (length three hundred words) +on "Poker Bridge," "Are we having Wetter Washdays?" and "The +Woggle-Wiggle Dance." Should there be no vacancy on your staff +I should be prepared to accept one on any other of your +publications--_The Weekly Dispatch_, _The Times_ or _The Rainbow_. + +_To the Editor of "The Manchester Guardian."_ + +SIR,--I was a Conscientious Objector during the War. I conscientiously +object to everything still, including the Peace Treaty. I speak and +write fifteen languages and dialects, including Oxford English. I have +a comprehensive knowledge of social and political life in Continental +Europe, Asia, Africa, America and Polynesia. I have also resided +in England. I have a deep conviction that under all conditions, +everywhere and at all times, England is invariably and absolutely +in the wrong. In home politics I am resolutely opposed to all the +Coalition has done, is doing or will do. It is my firm opinion that +the actions of England would become less deplorable, less criminal if +Mr. ASQUITH returned to power. I enclose as specimens of my mentality +two intensely human articles which I doubt not will find a home in +your columns: "Proportional Representation in Jugo-Slavia" (length +four thousand five hundred words) and "Futurism under TROTSKY" (length +five thousand words). + +_To the Editor of "The Spectator."_ + +SIR,--In offering my services to you I may point out how happily my +up-bringing and mental training have fitted me for a post on your +staff. The child of an Archdeacon (who was also honorary chaplain to a +rifle club), I was born in a house with earth-filled walls and brought +up in intimate association with a large number of most intelligent +animals. If desired I am prepared to relate anecdotes of the family +bull-dog and a pet she-goat which will verify my description. I feel +with you that England can only be saved by relying on a Free-Trading, +Non-Socialist, Church Establishment. I loathe alike Mr. ASQUITH and +Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, and think that the intellect of England, which +blossoms so luxuriously in country rectories and deaneries, finds +its best expression in Lord HUGH CECIL. As a specimen of my literary +ability I enclose a middle article on "The Sense of Obligation in +Tom-Cats." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A "POSITIVELY LAST" APPEARANCE. + +MR. PUNCH. "ACCEPT THIS POOR TRIBUTE IN RECOGNITION OF MUCH GOOD +ENTERTAINMENT IN THE PAST. I DON'T KNOW WHAT MY ARTISTS WOULD HAVE +DONE WITHOUT YOU." + +[The recent withdrawal of horsed cabs from certain ranks in the London +district foreshadows the final extinction of this venerable type.]] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Club Grouser._ "WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS?" + +_Waiter._ "THAT'S GAME PIE, SIR." + +_Club Grouser._ "UMPH! THINK I MUST HAVE GOT A BIT OF THE FOOTBALL."] + + * * * * * + +CHARIVARIA. + +It is rumoured that Professor PORTA has sent a message to Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE, wishing him a Happy New World. + +* * * + +Mr. Justice ROWLATT has decided that photography is not a profession. +With some actresses, of course, it is just a disease. + +* * * + +The gentleman who drew 1920 in a fifty-pound sweepstake as the date +of the ex-Kaiser's trial is now prepared to sell his chance for +sixpence-halfpenny. + +* * * + +"He is not a politician," says Mr. R. HARCOURT in _The Times_, +referring to Sir AUCKLAND GEDDES. It will be interesting to see how +Sir AUCKLAND accepts this compliment. + +* * * + +A letter posted at Hull for Odessa in July, 1914, has just been +returned to the sender. The postal authorities are thought to take the +view that the sender should be given an opportunity of adding a few +seasonable observations to his previous remarks. + +* * * + +It is all nonsense to say that there can be no change in the present +high prices. They can always go higher. + +* * * + +Owing to the strike of cabmen in Glasgow a number of people had to +walk home on New Year's Eve. It is not said how the others got home, +but we have made a guess. + +* * * + +On enquiry about the erection of huge new premises in the Strand by +the American Bush Terminal Company, we gather that London is not to be +removed, but will be allowed to remain next door. + +* * * + +Inspector MOSS of the Great Eastern Railway Police has just had his +pocket picked and thirty pounds stolen. It is only fair to say that +he was in plain clothes and the thief did not know he was a police +officer. + +* * * + +A history of the Ministry of Munitions is to be compiled at a cost +of £9,648. To keep the expense down to this modest sum by economy in +printing Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL will be referred to throughout as "X." + +* * * + +A man has been charged with damaging a London omnibus. He pleaded that +the vehicle pushed him first. + +* * * + +Mrs. PAYNE, the only woman mouse-trap-maker in London, has retired +from the business. It is said that a number of mice hope to arrange a +farewell cheese. + +* * * + +At a recent meeting of the Peace Conference it was decided that +the troubles in Egypt and India should in future be referred to as +Honorary Wars. + +* * * + +The Indians much appreciate CHARLIE CHAPLIN, says _The Weekly +Dispatch_. We felt confident that this film comedian would come into +his own some day. + +* * * + +Only two minor railway accidents were reported in December, but a +South Coast train which started that month is reported to have run +into the New Year. + +* * * + +It is estimated that _The Outline of History_ by Mr. H. G. WELLS +will be concluded this year. It would be a pleasing compliment to the +author if at the end of that time Parliament made it illegal for any +more history to happen. + +* * * + +The Thames angler who was asked in the Club at night if he had had any +luck that day, and replied that he had not had a bite, is thought to +be an impostor. + +* * * + +An Insurance official states that thin people live longer than stout. +This is probably due to the fact that when thin people stand sideways +the motor-car doesn't get a real chance. + +* * * + +"It is just twenty months since we experienced the last hostile +air-raid," states an evening paper. Should this indiscreet statement +reach the ears of certain Government Officials it is feared that one +or two of our picturesque anti-aircraft stations may be dismantled. + +* * * + +According to an American paper, a lawyer has left New York for Mexico, +in order to try to explain to the inhabitants the meaning of Peace +and the benefits to be derived from joining the League of Nations. We +understand he has made full arrangements for leaving a widow and two +young children. + +* * * + +Our heart goes out to the tenant of an experimental paper-house who +discovered, on going up-stairs, that his two-year-old son in a fit of +ungovernable passion had torn up his nursery. + +* * * + +A man has written to _The Daily Mail_ advocating the alteration of +the calendar to thirteen months of twenty-eight days each, _with two +Christmas Days in Leap Year_. The writer--to do him justice--did not +sign himself "Paterfamilias." + +* * * + +The New Poor Dance Club, which has opened in the West End, is having +its vicissitudes. Last week, it is reported, a distinguished stranger +mistook a waiter for one of the members, and the waiters have +threatened to strike if it occurs again. + +* * * + +Los Angeles, California, says a New York cable, is suffering from an +unprecedented crime wave. A proposal by President CARRANZA to draw a +_cordon sanitaire_ round the place has not yet reached Washington. + +* * * + +"Are dark people cleverer than fair?" asks a contemporary. These +clumsy attempts to destroy the Coalition spirit are too transparent to +be successful. + +* * * + +Intending visitors to the Zoological Gardens in Ph[oe]nix Park, +Dublin, are now required to get a permit from the military +authorities. A daring attempt by a Sinn Feiner to approach the +Viceregal Lodge under cover of a cassowary is said to be responsible +for the order. + +* * * + +The ex-Kaiser, it is stated, has asked the Prussian Government +if there would be any objection to his settling in Peru as a +cattle-raiser. The probability that the Crown Prince will settle in +France for a spell as a watch-lifter is thought to have fired the +ex-Imperial imagination. + +* * * + +A report from Chicago states that, as a result of the prevailing +taste for wood-alcohol, a number of citizens successfully revived the +ancient custom of seeing the Aurora Borealis in. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "HURRY UP, JOHNSON--WHAT A TIME YOU TAKE!" + +"I CAN'T GET THROUGH THESE BEASTLY TROOPS."] + + * * * * * + + "The charm of a pleasing figure depends upon an uneasy fitting + corset." + + _Advt. in Canadian Paper._ + +_Il faut souffrir pour être belle._ + + * * * * * + + "There would also be great competition for carniferous timber + from other countries." + + _Scotch Paper._ + +Not so much now that the meat-shortage is over. + + * * * * * + + "Dundee leads the way in Scotland in a new phase of sport for + ladies. + + The innovation was created by the City Magistrates to-day, + when an application for a billiard-room license in the new + City Hall was granted. + + Under the license ladies will be permitted to cross cues with + gentlemen partners in a public billiard-room."--_Local Paper._ + +It is supposed that their worships were under the impression that +billiards was a new form of shinty. + + * * * * * + +THE TUBE CURE. + + [It has been observed that employees in the Tubes never catch + cold while at work, and doctors, questioned by an evening + paper, have said that "the Tube atmosphere should be quite + likely to cure a cold if breathed long enough--say for an hour + at a stretch."] + + To-day, when I acquire a cold + (Rude Boreas having blustered), + I do not, as in times of old, + Immerse my feet in mustard; + I put a penny in a slot + At some Tube railway station + And draw a ticket for a not + Far distant destination. + + I shun the crowded lifts, although + They're right enough in their way, + And make my calm, unruffled, slow + Descension by the stairway; + 'Tis there a man can be alone, + Immune from all intrusion; + I doubt if there was ever known + Its equal for seclusion. + + Where no invading footsteps fall + I quaff the healthy vapours, + While glancing at my ease through all + The illustrated papers; + And since I've found the bottom stair + A place they don't upholster, + I always take when going there + A small pneumatic bolster. + + Not till an hour or twain have gone, + Thus pleasantly expended, + Do I proceed to carry on, + And, when my journey's ended, + I find all dread bacilli slain-- + No germ shows his (or her) face-- + And so, my cherry self again, + Come blithely to the surface. + + * * * * * + +A BUNCH OF POETS. + +Mr. Obadiah Geek has broken his long silence to some purpose. Those +who remember his pre-war achievements in the field of polychromatic +romanticism will hardly be prepared for his present development, which +lifts him at a bound from the overcrowded ranks of lyric-writers to +the uncongested heights whereon recline the great masters of epic +poetry. And yet it was perhaps inevitable. The thunder and the reek of +war (the last two years of which, we believe, were spent by Mr. Geek +in the Egg Control Department) could scarcely have failed to imprint +their mark on the author of _Eros in Eruption_; and so he has given +us a real epic, whose very title, _Ad Astra_, is symbolic of the +high altitudes in which he so triumphantly and so securely navigates. +Outwardly it is a story of the War, but there is little difficulty in +probing the allegory; and those who follow the hero's vicissitudes +as a private in the Gasoliers, right through to his victorious +advancement to the rank of Acting Lance-Corporal, unpaid (and there is +a symbolism even in the "unpaid"), will readily supply the application +to the affairs of everyday life. + +The ten thousand odd lines of this inspired poem are liberally +enlivened with those characteristic flashes which Mr. Geek's previous +efforts have led us to expect. Nothing could be happier than +the following, descriptive of the hero's early days on the +barrack-square:-- + + The Sergeant rolled his eyes toward the azure + And called down curses on my bloody head... + "You buzz about," his peroration ran, + "Like a bluebottle in a sugar-bowl. + Thank God we have a Navy!" and my feet, + Turned outward, as they had been drilled to turn, + At forty-five degrees or thereabouts, + Itched to join issue with his swollen paunch; + But I refrained. + +Or again:-- + + Fame, the skyscraper, hath a thousand floors; + And some toil slowly upward, stair by stair, + And stagger and halt and faint upon the way; + Others, more fortunate, achieve the top + At one swift elevation, by the lift. + +Mr. Geek, whatever his method of progression may have been, has +certainly "achieved the top"--if indeed he has not gone over it. + + * * * * * + +In _Throbs_, Miss Gramercy Gingham-Potts reveals a depth of feeling +and delicacy of expression that should secure her the right of entry +to every art-calendar and birthday-book. Her Muse is, perhaps, a +trifle anæmic, but to many none the less interesting on that account; +its very fragility, in fact, constitutes its chief appeal. She has an +engaging gift of definition that, combined with a keen appreciation +of the obvious, makes her verses particularly susceptible to quotation. +For instance:-- + + The maiden asked, "What is a kiss?" + The poet wrote: + "Kisses are stamps that frank with bliss + Love's contract-note." + +While for effectively studied simplicity it would be difficult to +match the lyrical gem to which Miss Gingham-Potts has given the +arresting title, "Farewell":-- + + The birds sing sweet in Summer; + The daisies hear their song; + But Winter's come, and they are dumb + So long. + + I told my love in Summer, + So pure and brave and strong; + But frosts came on; my love is gone; + So long! + + * * * * * + +A new volume by the author of _Swings and Roundabouts_ is something +of an event; and in _Bottles and Jugs_ Mr. Ughtred Biggs makes another +fascinating raid on the garbage-bins of London's underworld. Mr. Biggs +is a stark realist, and his unminced meat may prove too strong for +some stomachs; but those who can digest the fare he offers will +find it wonderfully sustaining. Here is no condiment of verbiage, no +dressing of the picturesque. Life is served up high, and almost raw. +By way of illustration we cannot do better than quote from the opening +poem, "Bill's Wife," in which the calculated roughness of the rhythm +is redolent of the pervading atmosphere:-- + + At the corner of the street + Stands the Blue-faced Pig; + Outside a barrel-organ is playing + And the people are dancing a jig. + + A woman waits there grimly; + Her eyes are set and her lips drawn thin; + For Bill, her man, is in the public, + Soaking his soul in gin. + +Students of sociology might do worse than devote careful attention to +these gaunt chronicles of Slumland. + + * * * * * + +The following stanzas, taken from a poem entitled "Reconstruction," +are a favourable example of Mr. Thor Pinmoney's somewhat unequal +genius:-- + + By strife we live, but boredom slays; + My mind from out this office strays + And takes me back to the spacious days + When I counted socks in Ordnance. + + I hate my pen; I hate my stool; + What am I but a nerveless tool? + But we did not work by rote or rule + When I counted socks in Ordnance.... + + There are times even now when it really seems + I'm back in a suburb of shell-shocked Rheims; + But the office echoes my waking screams + When I find it was only in my dreams + I was counting socks in Ordnance. + +Unfortunately, all Mr. Pinmoney's efforts do not come up to this +standard, and we should be almost inclined to wonder whether the +writer has not after all mistaken his vocation, were it not for the +really brilliant piece of work which brings the volume (_Pegasus Comes +Home_) to a close. We make no apology for reproducing this masterpiece +in full:-- + + Man comes + And goes. + What then? + Who knows? + +Here we have the whole philosophy of life and the life hereafter +summed up. If he never writes another line Mr. Pinmoney is by this +assured of a permanent place in the anthology of post-bellum poetry. + + * * * * * + + "Replying to the toast of his health, Mr. Lloyd George said it + was a great boon that a large industrial community should have + been founded amongst these lovely surroundings, a boon not + only for the workers, but also for their little children, who + would have the advantage of being reared in georgeous mountain + air."--_Daily Paper._ + +Lloyd-Georgeous, in fact. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MANNERS AND MODES. + +HORRIBLE NIGHTMARE OF A LADY WHO DREAMS THAT SHE HAS GONE TO A BALL IN +HER NIGHT-GOWN AND FOUND HERSELF SHOCKINGLY OVERDRESSED.] + + * * * * * + +THE "FIRST HUNDRED" OF LOEB. + + [The Loeb Classical Library, founded by a munificent American + millionaire, Mr. JAMES LOEB (_prononcez_ "Lobe"), and edited + by Dr. E. CAPPS, Mr. T. E. PAGE and Dr. W. H. D. ROUSE, has + now reached its hundredth volume.] + + When ways are foul and days are damp, + When agitators rage and ramp, + And SMILLIE, with the aid of CRAMP, + Threatens to rend the globe; + When margarine is scarce, or beef, + And drinks are dear and few and brief, + I find refreshment and relief + And comfort in my LOEB. + + Good print, good company, a text + By no vain annotations vexed + Which call from students sore perplexed + The patience of a Job; + And, page by page, a first-rate crib, + Neither too faithful nor too glib-- + That, without fulsomeness or fib, + Is what we get in LOEB. + + Let scientists on various fronts + Indulge in their atomic stunts, + Or harness to our prams and punts + The puissant radiobe; + Me rather it delights to roam + Across the salt Ægean foam + With old Odysseus, far from home, + And bless the name of LOEB. + + To soar with PLATO to the heights; + To find in PLUTARCH'S kings and knights + The human touch that more delights + Than crown or regal robe; + To taste the fresh Pierian springs, + To see CATULLUS scorch his wings + With the fierce flame that sears and stings-- + For this I thank thee, LOEB. + + I've made no fortune out of beer; + I'm not a plutocrat or peer, + Nor yet a bloated profiteer, + An OM or e'en an OBE; + But if I'd thirty pounds to spare + I'd go and blow them then and there + Upon the Hundred Books that bear + The sign and seal of LOEB. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND. + +_The Rescuer._ "I'M NOT A VERY GRACEFUL DIVER, YOU KNOW. WHAT ABOUT +EMPLOYING A PROFESSIONAL SWIMMER FOR THIS PART OF THE SHOW?"] + + * * * * * + +A NEWSPAPER SCOOP. + +(_With the British Army in France._) + +"I spotted him by the fountain-pen stains on his vest and the +thunderbolts sticking out of his pockets," said Frederick. "So I went +up to him and said, 'You are Wuffle of _The Daily Hooter_, the man who +wiped-up Whitehall and is now engaged in freezing-out France?" + +"What did he say?" asked Percival. + +"Whipped out a note-book and asked me to tell him all about it. I said +I was pining for the white cliffs of Albion and that the call of +the counting-house and cash-box was ringing in my ears, but that I +couldn't get demobilised because the Colonel's pet Pomeranian had +conceived a fancy for me and wouldn't take its underdone chop from +anyone else. I also hinted that I and a few friends could tell him +things that would make his biggest journalistic scoops look like +paragraphs in a parish magazine, so he invited me to bring you round +this afternoon to split an infinitive with him." + +"Wuffle?" said Binnie. "That's the man who wrote about 'gilded +subalterns loafing luxuriously in cushioned cars in a giddy round of +useless and pampered ease'?" + +"Well, I won't say he wrote it, but he signed it. No single man living +could write all the stuff Wuffle signs. It's turned out as they +turn out cheap motor-cars. One man roughs it out, passes it to the +adjective department, thence to the punctuation-room, where they +sprinkle it with commas and exclamation marks, and then Wuffle touches +it up, fits it with headlines and signs it. Oh, I forgot. Before it +goes to press the libel expert looks it over to see that it isn't +actionable." + +"Anyway, he's the responsible party," said Binnie, "and I would fain +have converse with the Wuffle. That 'gilded subaltern' bit was ringing +in my head like a dirge the other night when I was wearily trudging +the seven kilometres from St. Denis camp because there was no one to +give me a lift." + +That afternoon Frederick introduced his friends to Wuffle. + +"Sorry we're late," he said, "but Percival and Binnie here have +been engaged with the Pioneer-Sergeant discussing the best method of +converting a whippet-tank into a roller for the tennis-courts." + +At that moment a motor-lorry rumbled by, and Binnie, recollecting a +passage in Wuffle's latest article about "motor-lorries rushing madly +about with apparently no purpose in view," jumped excitedly to the +door. + +"'Magneto Maggie' leading," he shouted, "and 'The Sparking Spitfire' +is just behind. Care to double your bet on 'Maggie' at evens, +Percival?" + +"Not yet," replied Percival cautiously. "It's only the first lap yet, +and 'Maggie' sometimes jibs a bit when she passes the Remount Depôt." + +Wuffle had his fountain-pen at the alert and looked inquiringly at +Frederick. + +"I suppose it _is_ another example of deliberate waste," said the +latter. "But we've got the lorries eating their heads off in the +garages and the petrol is simply aching to be evaporated, so we give +the drivers exercise and ourselves some excitement over organising +these Area Circuit Steeplechases." + +"Why not trans-ship the lorries?" suggested Wuffle. + +"That would never do, old prune," said Frederick. "The troops would +have nothing to guard." + +"Send the men home," persisted Wuffle. + +"Come, my willowy asparagus," replied Frederick in horrified tones, +"we must have troops to find us work to do. Of course it's sometimes +difficult to keep the men employed, and then we have to make dumps of +empty biscuit tins and things for them to guard." + +"I fixed up a real beauty at Le Glaxo, not ten kilometres from here," +chipped in Percival. "If you'd like to see it there's a train going in +about twenty minutes." + +Wuffle jumped up with alacrity. + +"I'd be awfully glad to get a snapshot of it," said he, disappearing +in search of his hat and coat. + +Frederick took the opportunity to make a few scathing remarks to +Percival. + +"It's just like you, you mouldy old citron," he said. "I start a +little experiment in _tirage de jambe_, and you put your heavy hoof +in and spoil the whole business. You know jolly well that Le Glaxo was +completely closed down months ago." + +"Oh, put another penny in your brain-meter and try to realise that +you aren't the only one who's grown up," replied Percival impatiently. +"Your brain-waves move about as quick as G.P.O. telegraph messages. +I'd got the scheme worked out while you were putting over your old +musical-comedy gags." + +Since the departure of the British, Le Glaxo's only excitement is the +arrival of its one train per day. Ignoring the sensation caused by +the detraining of four persons simultaneously, Percival led his party +along a muddy rough lane. + +"The dump is about four kilometres away and the road gets rather bad +towards the end," he said, maliciously edging Wuffle into a bit of +swamp. "Sorry; I was going to warn you about that." + +Wuffle scraped mud from his trousers and followed the leader over a +rough wall into a hidden ditch. A breathless climb up a hill and a +steady trudge over plough-land found Wuffle still game, but, after +he had got his camera ready for action on the cheerful assurance that +they were nearing their quarry, a disappointed cry from the leader +dashed his hopes. + +"Hang it!" said Percival, "I forgot. The dump was moved to Pont +Antoine last Tuesday. Come along; it's only three kilometres away." + +Strangely enough, Pont Antoine was also a blank. Binnie suggested +trying Monceau, two kilometres further on; but when they arrived +there, fatigued and dirty, a thin drizzle was falling and it was +almost dark. Percival confessed himself baffled. + +"I'm awfully sorry," said he to Wuffle; "I can't find it now, and +the point is how are we going to get back? There isn't a railway for +miles." + +"Don't any of our lorries or cars pass here?" asked Wuffle. + +"Oh, yes. But they won't give _you_ a lift. The orders are dead strict +against civilians riding in W.D. vehicles." + +"It's the result of the articles in the papers about waste," said +Frederick sympathetically. "But I don't suppose there would be any +objection to your hanging on and running behind." + +Wuffle looked round disconsolately. In the gloom the lighted windows +of the tiny Hôtel de l'Univers blinked invitingly. + +"I think I'll stop here for the night," he said, "and telephone for a +car to fetch me to-morrow." + +"Right-o!" said Percival. "And when it's thoroughly light you +might--you _might_ be able to find the dump. So long." + +As they rumbled uncomfortably home on a fortuitous three-ton lorry, +Percival looked round for applause. + +"_C'est bien fait, mon vieux_," chuckled Binnie. "I'll bet the Wuffle +won't go dump-hunting again in a hurry. And he won't be able to do any +damage from that little estaminet for a day or two." + + * * * * * + +The well-advertised series of articles in _The Daily Hooter_ commenced +a few days later. The conspirators studied them diligently in gleeful +anticipation of finding their contribution to journalistic enterprise. +It came at the end, in a brief paragraph. + +"When I had collected my material for this powerful indictment, etc., +etc." (ran the article), "I met a party of irresponsible subalterns +bent on the old, old army pastime of leg-pulling. For the sake of +exercise and amusement I permitted them to conduct me on a wild-goose +chase after an imaginary dump, which luckily led me to a sequestered +little hotel where I was able to write my articles in peace and +quietude. But to return to the main question. I unhesitatingly +affirm..." + +Percival, who was reading aloud, let the paper fall limply from his +hand. + +"Frederick," he said, "put your biggest boots on and kick me. The +word-merchant was laughing at us all the time." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: COMMERCIAL CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. + +TRAPPING IMITATION ERMINE.] + + * * * * * + + "The letter about the Bloomsbury cat that bought her own cat's + meat in your issue of December 6th is interesting." + + _A Correspondent in "The Spectator."_ + +The cat would, however, have shown more regard for the feelings of our +justly-esteemed contemporary if it had wrapped up its purchase in some +other publication. + + * * * * * + + "In his defence, ---- said that he had really intended + marrying the girl, but that he came to the realization that + she was extremely ejaljoujs, hence his bjreach. + + jThe court found that this was sufficient ground to justify + jjjustify jujjjj jstjijfjy his breach of promise."--_Canadian + Paper._ + +It is evident, however, that the Court did not arrive at this decision +without considerable hesitation. + + * * * * * + +More Headaches for Historians. + + "The revellers passed the time in dancing and singing until + St. Paul's clock struck midnight. Then 'Auld Lang Syne' was + sung with enthusiasm and, after repeated cheers, the crowd + dispersed."--_Times._ + + "It was typical of the largest crowd that has watched round + the cathedral the passing of the year that at the moment when + midnight struck it should be engaged in one tremendous jostle + and push, rough and tumble, and that no one thought to strike + up the tune--traditional to the occasion--of 'Auld Lang + Syne.'"--_Star._ + + "The gigantic Hindenburg figure of Militarism in the centre of + the room melted away with the appearance of the Peace Angel, + reputed to be the fairest lady in Chelsea, who had climbed a + ladder within his leviathan bulk."--_Times._ + + "When twelve o'clock struck The God of War _should_ have + collapsed gracefully to give place to the most beautiful + artist's model in Chelsea, draped as the Goddess of Peace. + But something went wrong with the ropes, and the God of War + floated a yard or two into the air, just sufficiently high to + show us the feet and knees of the Goddess of Peace."--_Evening + Standard._ + + * * * * * + + "The famous flood-test of the Parisian, the stone ouave on + the Bridge of Alma, is in water up to his waist."--_Provincial + Paper._ + +Surely an understatement. The "ouave" seems to have had his Z washed +away. + + * * * * * + +From a _feuilleton_:-- + + "James put his cold hands in his pockets and buttoned up his + coat collar before turning out to his work."--_Weekly Paper._ + +This is not so easy as it sounds. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Teuton (released after internment for the duration, to +old business friend who is trying to avoid him)._ "WELL, MINE FRIENT, +AND WHERE HAF YOU PEEN HIDING YOURSELF THE LAST FOUR OR FIFE YEARS?"] + + * * * * * + +WORDS OF WISDOM. + + "Come, all you young seamen, take heed now to me, + A hard-case old sailorman bred to the sea, + As sailed the seas over afore you was born, + An' learned 'em by heart from the Hook to the Horn. + + "Don't hold by the ratlines when going aloft + (Which I've told you afore but can't tell you too oft), + Or you'll strike one that's rotten as sure as you live, + And it's too late to learn when you've once felt it give; + If you don't hit the bulwarks you'll sure hit the sea, + For them rotten ratlines--they're the devil," says he. + + "Now if you should see, as you like enough may, + When tramping the docks for a ship some fine day, + A spanking full-rigger just ready for sea, + And think she's just all that a hooker should be, + Take 'eed you don't ship with a skipper that drinks-- + You'd better by half play at fan-tan with Chinks!-- + For that'll mean nothing but muddle an' mess, + It may be much more and it can't be much less, + What with wrangling and jangling to drive a man daft, + And rank bad dis-cip-line both forrard and aft, + A ship that's ill-found and a crew out of 'and, + And a touch-and-go chance she may never reach land, + But go down in a squall or broach to in a sea, + For them drunken skippers--they're the devil," says he. + + "And if you go further and pause to admire + A ship that's as neat as your heart could desire, + As smart as a frigate aloft and alow, + Her brasswork like gold and her planking like snow, + Look round for a mate by whose twang it is plain + That his home port is somewhere round Boston or Maine, + With a jaw that's the cut of a square block of wood, + And beat it, my son, while the going is good! + There'll be scraping and scouring from morning till night + To keep that brass shiny and keep them decks white, + And belaying-pin soup both for dinner and tea, + For them smart down-easters--they're the devil," says he. + + "But if by good fortune you chance for to get + A ship that ain't hungry or wicked or wet, + That answers her hellum both a-weather and lee, + Goes well on a bowline and well running free, + A skipper that's neither a fool nor a brute, + And mates not too free with the toe of their boot, + A sails and a bo'sun that's bred to their trade, + And a slush with a notion how vittles is made, + And a crowd that ain't half of 'em Dagoes or Dutch, + Or Mexican greasers or niggers or such, + You stick to her close as you would to your wife, + She's the sort that you only find once in your life; + And ships is like women, you take it from me, + That, if they _are_ bad 'uns, they're the devil," says he. + + C. F. S. + + * * * * * + + "With regard to prison labour, it is stated that the + manufacture of war stories had continued to employ every + available inmate." + + _Christian Science Monitor._ + +We had wondered where some of them came from. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: SOUNDING THE "ALL CLEAR." + +WITH GRATEFUL COMPLIMENTS TO THE GALLANT VOLUNTEERS OF THE BRITISH +MINE CLEARANCE FORCE.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "HULLO, GEORGE! AND WHEN'S THE WAR GOING TO BE OVER, +EH?"] + + * * * * * + +THE QUESTIONABLE ALIEN. + +William, my hitherto unventuresome friend William, is going abroad. I +cannot be certain why. Perhaps he no longer feels his heroism equal +to the strain of living in a country fit for heroes. It may be that +he has unwittingly incubated a bacillus which figures in novels as the +"Call of the Wild." Anyhow, William is going abroad--so much so that, +if he went any farther, he would be on his way home again. + +I need not say that I felt called upon to help William through this +trying period, and our preparations proceeded satisfactorily until the +clever geographers who arrange these things nowadays discovered that +William could fetch the Far East by way of the Far West. Then the +international complications set in. First, William's passport--a +healthy enough document at the start--had to be carried round the +diplomatic quarter of London until it broke out into a thick rash of +supplementary _visas_. Next we sought out the moneychangers in their +dens, to transmute William's viaticum bit by bit into four foreign +currencies. Then a Great Power through whose territory William will +have to pass apparently was nervous of his approach and instituted +a grand inquisition into the status and antecedents of the Alien +(William). + +We unfolded the paper on our table and stared at it aghast. Its area +was rather less than a square yard; in colour it favoured the yolk of +bad eggs; while all over its broad expanse were ruled compartments, +half of them filled with questions that no gentleman would ask +another, the other half left blank for William's indignant replies. We +managed with great difficulty to squeeze into the panel provided all +his baptismal titles--there are four of these besides "William"--and +then attacked the first real poser:-- + +_Are you in possession of 100 dollars, or less? If less, by how much?_ + +William groaned. "Reach me down Todhunter's Arithmetic, will you?" +said he. + +I did so, and turned up the Money Market page of our daily paper. +Nothing was heard for the next five minutes but grunts and sighs of +despair. We then gave it up on the understanding that William must +make a point of winning heavily at bridge--or would it be euchre?--on +the way across. + +_Have you ever been in the territory of the Great Power before?_ + +"No," breathed William devoutly, "and, please Heaven, it shan't occur +again!" + +_What is your reason for coming now?_ + +"I suppose I'd better tell the truth," he said; "they'll never +believe me if I say I've come to put DEMPSEY up to that right drive of +CARPENTIER'S." + +_Were you ever in prison, an almshouse, or an institution for the +treatment of the insane? If so, which?_ + +"Take your time, William," I said; "think carefully." + +He gave a bitter laugh. "Do they want to know _all_ the gaols and +asylums I've been in," he asked, "or only the more recent?" + +_Are you a polygamist?_ + +William turned deathly pale. He then fixed me with a terrible stare of +accusation and reproach. + +"No, no, William," I protested frantically, "I assure you on my honour +that _I_ haven't been talking." + +This assurance calmed him somewhat. Bit by bit the colour came back to +his cheeks and at length he was able to remark more hopefully: "Well, +there's this to be said for it, most of my wives are sportswomen. I +don't _think_ they'll give me away." + +_Are you an anarchist?_ + +"No," answered William frankly, "but I possess a brother-in-law who +has leanings towards Rosicrucianism. Next, please." + +The next was a very searching, legally-worded inquiry. It demanded at +great length to be informed whether William was a person who advocated +the overthrow by force or violence of the Government of the +Great Power, or all forms of Law, or believed in the propriety of +assassinating any or every officer of the Great Power because of his +official character. + +William took up the paper-knife with an expression of sheer animal +ferocity. "Yes," he hissed, "the whole lot. Torturing them, too!"--and +fell back into his chair with peal upon peal of maniacal laughter. + + * * * * * * * + +William was practically a wreck before the inquisition came to an end. +He had not even sufficient spirit left to fly at me for entering +his distinguishing marks as "a general air of honesty, tempered by a +slight inward squint." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Runner._ "BEAUTIFUL SCENT IN COVER TO-DAY, SIR." + +_Post-War Sportsman._ "OH--ER--IS THERE? I HAVEN'T NOTICED IT, BUT +I'VE GOT A COLD IN MY HEAD."] + + * * * * * + + "The Board of Trade have awarded a silver cup to Mr. John + Bruce, D.S.C., skipper of the steam drifter _Pansy_, of Wick, + in recognition of the promptitude and ability with which + he rescued the domestic servant, Strawberry Bank, Hardgate, + pleaded guilty to having bemusic, stolen a gold safety pin, + a fountain pen, two pairs of gloves, two blouses and several + other articles of clothing."--_Fishing News._ + +We never believe these fishing stories. + + * * * * * + +SONGS OF THE HOME. + +II.--THE DIAGNOSIS. + + When Jimmy, our small but significant son, + Is prey of a temper capricious and hot, + And tires of a project as soon as begun, + And wants what he hasn't, and hates what he's got, + A dutiful father, I ponder and brood, + Essaying by reason and logic to find + The radical cause of the juvenile mood + In the intricate growth of the juvenile mind. + + But women and reason were never allies; + The rule of a mother is logic of thumb; + The trouble concerns, she is quick to surmise, + His rum-ti-tiddily-um-ti-tum. + + O woman (though angel in moments of pain, + When angels of pity are most _à propos_), + Why, why won't you listen when husbands explain + The things they have thought and the knowledge they know? + And why do you smile when they beg to repeat? + And why are you bored when they make it all clear? + And why do you label their emphasis "heat," + And bid them "Be careful; the servants may hear"? + + The argument leaves me, though ever more sure, + Reproachful and angry and sullen and dumb: + It leaves her reforming my diet, to cure + _My_ rum-ti-tiddily-um-ti-tum. + + HENRY. + + * * * * * + +ANIMAL HELPS. + +(_By a Student of Domestic Economy._) + +Living in a remote country district, where the difficulty of obtaining +servants is at present insurmountable--the nearest "pictures" are +twelve miles off--I have been much impressed and encouraged by +two letters in recent issues of _The Spectator_. One describes a +Bloomsbury grocer's cat that bought her own cat's-meat; another +recounts the exploits of a spaniel belonging to a house painter and +glazier at Yarmouth (Isle of Wight), which, if given a penny, would +immediately amble off to a grocer's shop and purchase a cake. + +Viewed in their true perspective, these exhibitions of animal +intelligence seem to indicate fruitful possibilities of the employment +of our dumb friends to assist us in these trying times. Many years +ago I remember reading of a baboon which discharged the duties of a +railway porter at a station in Cape Colony with great efficiency. I +have unfortunately mislaid the reference, but so far as I can remember +no mention was made of wages or tips; consequently the importation and +employment of skilled simian labour on a large scale might go a long +way towards reducing the expenses of our railway system. + +But in view of certain obvious difficulties it is perhaps better to +restrict our attention to the sphere of domestic service and farm +labour. And here I would urge with all the power at my command the +employment of the elephant. The greatest burden of household work +is the washing of plates, and this is a task which elephants are +peculiarly well fitted to undertake; also the cleaning of windows +without the use of a ladder. A well-trained and amiable elephant, +again, would enable parents to dispense with a perambulator. I admit +that the initial outlay might be considerable, but the longevity of +elephants is notorious, and it would always be possible to hire them +out to travelling menageries. + +Another neglected asset is the well-known aptitude shown by poodles +for digging out truffles, an accomplishment of which I often read in +my youth. If truffles, why not potatoes? + +The extraordinary intelligence and affectionate disposition of the +runner duck has often been commented on by our serious weeklies, +but so far little attempt has been made to turn these qualities to +practical account. They forage for themselves. Why should they not be +taught to do so for their owners as well? + +One more point and I have done. Greek and Latin are going or gone, +but a modicum of Mathematics seems to be indispensable to the modern +curriculum. The domestic pig has on many occasions shown a capacity +for mastering simple arithmetical processes, and we know that the +pupil always ends by bettering his master. Under a more enlightened +and humane _régime_ I confidently look forward to the time when +our children will learn the Rule of Three, not from highly-paid and +incompetent governesses, but from unsalaried porcine instructors, +trained in the best Montessorian methods. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Visitor._ "HOW IS MRS. BROWN TO-DAY?" + +_Maid._ "WELL 'M, SHE EBBS AND FLOWS."] + + * * * * * + +Our Plutocratic Sportsmen. + + "A gold course is being laid out in Ryde House Park, Isle of + Wight."--_Sunday Paper._ + + * * * * * + +The New Rich. + + "Working Man (36) requires Lodgings, full or part board; car + ride or convenient Rolls-Royce."--_Provincial Paper._ + + * * * * * + + "Lady requires gentleman Chauffeur, repair and clean car; good + dancer."--_Times._ + +One who can "reverse," it is hoped. + + * * * * * + + "Considering the greatness of the provocation, Centralia, + Wash., yesterday showed a calmness worthy of an American + community. There were no farther attempts at lynching after + the hanging of the secretary of the I.W.W. organisation on + Tuesday night." _American Paper._ + +Oh, my friends, let us strive to emulate the calmness of Centralia, +Wash. + + * * * * * + +A LETTER TO THE BACK-BLOCKS. + +DEAR GINGER,--A Merry Christmas to you! A bit late, you say? On the +contrary, in plenty of time. It is next Christmas I am referring +to. Over there, in your tropical land, when the sun stings your +skin through your shirt and the sand blisters your feet through your +boot-soles, when you butter your bread with a soup-ladle and the +mercury boils merrily in the barometer, then, vainly pawing the air +for mosquitoes with one hand and reaching for the siphon with the +other, you gasp, "Gad! it must be getting on for Christmas-time." + +But over here in England, where the seasons wheel round without any +appreciable difference in temperature, where, if it were not for the +gentleman who writes the calendars, nobody would know whether to wear +straw-hats or snow-shoes, Christmas comes sneaking up behind you and +grabs you by the pocket before you have time to dodge. "Christmas Eve +already!" you exclaim. "Christmas Eve! and there's dear old Tom +in Penang and good old Dick in Patagonia and poor old Harry in +Princetown, and I've not written a word of cheer to any of them and +now have no time to do so." That's what happened to me this year, +anyhow; but I'm determined it shall not occur again, so--A Merry +Christmas to you, Ginger. + +This my first Yule in the Old Country, after many in foreign climes, +was not an unqualified success. On the morning of Christmas Eve I +went for a walk and lost myself. After wading through bog systems and +bramble entanglements for some hours I came out behind a spinney and +there spied a small urchin with red cheeks and a red woollen muffler +standing beneath a holly-tree. On sighting me he gave vent to a loud +and piteous howl. I asked him where his pain was, and he replied that +he wanted some holly for decorations, but was too short to reach it. +I thereupon swarmed the shrub, plucked and tossed the richly berried +boughs to the poor little chap. In return he showed me where I +lived--which indeed was not two hundred yards distant, but concealed +by the thicket. + +Later in the day Edward came in to tea, much annoyed. Bolshevism, he +declared, was within our gates. He had been out to collect Christmas +decorations in his own private fenced spinney, and confound it if some +scoundrels hadn't been and gone and stripped his pet holly-tree of +every twig! Anarchy was yapping at the door. + +The Aunt soothed him, saying she had that very afternoon purchased a +supply of splendid holly from a sweet little boy who had come round +hawking it at sixpence a bough. I asked her if by any chance the dear +little fellow had worn a red woollen comforter, and was not surprised +when I heard that he had. + +No sooner had I fallen asleep that same night than I was aroused by +an extraordinary din. I lay there, comatose and semi-conscious in +the pitchy darkness, and wondered what had happened. Presently I +distinguished the bray of trumps, and I knew. "Golly!" I whispered to +myself, "I'm dead. Cheer-o!" Then I recollected something I had read +concerning ye sports and customs of ye Ancient British and decided +it must be "Waits." I crept to the window and by a glow of lanterns +beheld the St. Gwithian Independent Brass Band grouped round the +porch, blasting "Christians, awake!" through their brazen fog-horns. +I fumbled about on the dressing-table, missed the matches but found a +half-crown. "Take that and trot!" I snarled, hurling it at them with +all my strength. The coin hit the trombone a glancing blow on the +snout, ricochetted off the bassoon and bounded into the rockery. + +The music stopped abruptly as the bandsmen swarmed in pursuit of +fortune. In half-an-hour's time they had pulled all Edward's cherished +sedums and saxifrages up by the roots and turned over most of the +smaller rocks without discovering the treasure. A conference in loud +idiomatic Cornish then took place, with the result that two musicians +were despatched to a neighbouring farm for picks, crow-bars and more +lanterns; the remainder squatted on the flower-beds and whiled away +the time of waiting by blasting "Good King Wenceslas" to the patient +stars. + +In due course the messengers returned and the quarrying of the rockery +began in earnest. By 4.15 A.M. they had most of it littered over the +drive, but had struck some granite boulders which defied even the +crowbars. A further conference was then held, but at this point Edward +made a dramatic appearance, clad in lilac pyjamas, odd boots and +a kimono of the Aunt's, which he had worn as King Alfred in some +charades the night before, and in the darkness had donned in mistake +for his dressing-gown. His address was impassioned and moving, but had +no effect on the Waits, who could only be persuaded to abandon their +silver mine at the price of a second half-crown. + +A day or so before Christmas I began to notice that everybody was +getting presents--everybody except me, that is. This caused me pain. +It gave the impression that I was not appreciated. I took thought for +a space, then rode into Penzance, bought several articles I had been +wanting for some time, wrote a few affectionate notes in disguised +handwriting, such as "With dearest love from Flossie," "With hugs +and kisses from Ermyntrude," etc., enclosed them with the articles, +addressed and posted them to myself and rode home again. + +On Christmas morning I opened them in public with a vast flourish, +and left the touching little dedications lying carelessly about where +anybody could read them. From the glances of wonder and respect +which flashed at me from all sides I gathered that everybody did. The +sensation was both novel and pleasing. One parcel, however, there was +which I had not sent myself. It had been forwarded on by the "Punch" +Office, marked, "Please do not crush," and carefully tied and sealed. +My heart leapt. "By Jove!" said I, "a genuine Christmas present. +Somebody loves me after all. Perhaps a duchess has sent me her tiara." + +With trembling fingers I unlaced the strings. The household crowded +about me, panting with envy and excitement. Reverently I folded the +multitudinous wrappings back and revealed a very old, very dilapidated +silk slipper, severely busted at the toe and stuffed with sticky +sweets, a small female doll, and a note--"With all best wishes to +PATLANDER for a happy Christmas, and many thanks for useful hints +contained in _Punch_ issue, December 10th, 1919." + +I may remind you that in the issue mentioned was an epistle from me +to you recommending the Post as a means of disposing of rubbish, with +special reference to worn-out foot-gear. I only wish I knew who +played this trick on me, Ginger; I would like to give him something in +return--say an old footer-boot--with my foot inside. + + Thine in sorrow, + + PATLANDER + + * * * * * + +New Golfing Records. + + "Mr. ---- then holed his fourth for a three."--_Sunday Paper._ + + "---- played very fine golf on the outward journey and stood 5 + up at the second hole." + + _Evening Paper._ + +We suppose that in each case the player's opponent wasn't looking. + + * * * * * + +From a sale catalogue:-- + + "Pretty Light Grey Georgette Jumper, trimmed Grey Wool and + Saxe Blue. + + Usually 5 gns. 6-1/2 gns." + +No wonder they call it a jumper. + + * * * * * + + "ST. ----'S CHURCH. + 6.30 p.m.--Preacher: The Vicar. + 7.45 p.m.--Bach's Church Cantata, + 'Sleepers, Wake.'" + + _Provincial Paper._ + +We suspect the organist of being a bit of a wag. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Slightly deaf Footman (announcing each guest in +character)._ "MR. JONES--THE LAST OF THE BANDIES."] + + * * * * * + +THE WHAT-NOT. + +"Look here," I said, "this is indeed serious. The what-not's +moulting." + +"It's been like that for a long time," said Anna. "But I suppose it's +getting worse." + +"I'm afraid so. And we _must_ have something reliable," I said, "to +stand dishes and things on at meals. We can't pile them all on the +table at once like a cairn. To tell you the truth," I added, "I've had +my eye on an old oak dresser at Smalley's for a long time. It would be +a good investment--at a price." + +"Yes," said Anna; "but I suppose the price would be the earth and the +fulness thereof." + +"That is precisely what I propose to find out, and if they'll take +anything less than thirty pounds it's ours. In the meantime," I added, +"we'll dope the poor old what-not with furniture cream and see about +driving it to market." + +There are two accepted methods of dealing at old furniture shops. +The first is to approach them, well-groomed, be-ringed and perfumed, +smoking a jewelled gasper and entering the shop with a circular +movement of the arm to expose the gold wrist-watch that _will_ crawl +up the sleeve at wrong moments, and to ask in a commanding voice, "How +much is the--ah--oak-dresser--what?" + +The presiding genius (and being a dealer he is usually a genius), who +had really ticketed the article thirty pounds, approaches it, removes +the ticket by a little sleight-of-hand and says, "Thirty-eight +guineas, Sir," without a blush (the dealer who blushes is hounded +from the ring). This method of dealing is direct action of the most +dangerous kind. + +The other method, and the one I most usually adopt, I can best +illustrate by detailing my interview with the proprietor of Smalley's +on the occasion when I went dressering. + +I sidled into the shop in garments carefully selected from my +pre-wardrobe and wearing a vacant expression. Picking up a piece of +china I examined it carefully, turning it upside down, as though +to search for a pottery mark, which I probably should never have +recognised. + +"H'm, not bad," I said. + +"One of the best bits of Dresden I've ever had," said the dealer. "I +want----" + +"Ah, German," I said, putting the thing down hurriedly as though it +might be mined. "It may be a good piece, but--what is the price of +that brass fender?" + +"Seven-ten, old Dutch and a bargain," said the dealer laconically. + +"But probably wouldn't fit the fireplace in my mind. Though," I added +to myself, "it might fit the one in our dining-room." + +I thought it about time to notice the dresser, not to attempt to buy +it yet--oh dear no, but merely to fire the first shot in the campaign +as it were. + +"What kind of a dresser do you call this?" I said. "Slightly +moth-eaten, isn't it?" + +"That's nothing; merely age. It's Welsh," he added, "and a beauty. +I wish I could get hold of more like it. Look at those legs; I'll +guarantee you won't----Excuse me, Sir." + +An immaculately dressed individual had entered the shop, and the +gentleman trading as Smalley called an assistant to serve him. By the +time he returned to me I had wandered far into the recesses of the +emporium and was busily examining a walnut stool with a woolwork seat. + +"You haven't one like this in oak, I suppose? This one," I said, +"would hardly suite my suit. That sounds wrong, but you apprehend my +meaning." + +"I haven't," he said simply. I could see that he was tiring rapidly, +but wasn't absolutely ripe for plucking. + +So I priced about a dozen pieces of china, admired several pictures +and pieces of Stuart needlework, descanted on the beauties of a set +of wheatear chairs, pulled a small rosewood table about until its claw +and ball feet nearly dropped off from exhaustion, and finally led him +back to the Welsh dresser. + +"What's the price of the Scotsman?" I said easily, having seen thirty +guineas on the ticket during the preliminary examination. + +"Twenty-nine pounds to you," he said wearily. He evidently knew the +strict rules of the game. + +"But look at those legs," I said. "They're frightfully bent, aren't +they?" + +"That's one of the best features about it," he said. "Real Queen Anne, +those legs are." + +"Oh, were hers like that? I didn't know," I said. "Look here, I'll +give you twenty-eight pounds, spot cash." + +"Very well," he said. "I like to do business." + +"I beg pardon," said a voice behind me, which, in turning, I +discovered to belong to the assistant, "but that dresser's sold. The +gentleman who's just left bought it." + +As I was looking for the ticket (which had disappeared), I couldn't +help overhearing the assistant's aside to his employer. + +"Thirty-five guineas cash," he said. + +There is something, after all, to be said for direct action. + + * * * * * + +"OLD FOLKS' TEA. + + On the day of the party the Chief Constable has arranged for + a staff of Special Constables to escort home any person + requiring assistance."--_Provincial Paper._ + +This bears out what has recently appeared about the terrible results +of the tea-drinking habit. + + * * * * * + + "WANTED.--Skates and Boots for Leghorn Pullets."--_Advt. in + Canadian Paper._ + +They need a lot of exercise in the cold weather. + + * * * * * + +AT THE PLAY. + +"CINDERELLA." + +[Illustration: A HORSE-SENSE OF HUMOUR. + +_Pipchin_. . . . . . . . . . . Mr. STANLEY LUPINO. +_Baroness Beauxchamps_ . . . . Mr. WILL EVANS. + +] + +It is a very delicate task that the annual pantomime imposes upon Mr. +ARTHUR COLLINS. He has to "surpass himself," but he must not do it +once for all or he would rob the critics of their most cherished +phrase. He reminds me of the constructors of our Atlantic +"greyhounds," each longer by a yard or two than the last, each swifter +by a fraction of a knot, each with a few more tons displacement, +all pronounced to be the final word in scientific invention, yet all +reserving something for the next time. + +Certainly the present year marks an advance in one respect at +least--that the grotesque and the beautiful are kept reasonably apart; +the lovely colour-scheme, for instance, of the garden in Fairyland is +undisturbed by any element of buffoonery. There was a revival too of +topical allusiveness after the reticence proper to war-time; and the +GEDDES family must be justifiably flattered by their admission to a +choric refrain. + +The humour, of which Mr. STANLEY LUPINO bore the brunt, was here and +there a little thin, and it is time that somebody let the Management +of Drury Lane into the open secret that the pun, as an instrument of +mirth, has long been a portion of the dreadful past. Mr. WILL EVANS, +as the _Baroness Beauxchamps_, seldom let himself go, being no doubt +held in restraint by a consciousness of his resemblance to Miss ELLEN +TERRY. Not enough chance was given to Miss LILY LONG (the _Elder +Sister_), who has a very nice sense of fun. As for Mr. CLAFF, who +played the operatic _Baron_, his most humorous moment was when he +meant to be most serious. This was in a song in praise of _Prince +Charming_, "featuring" H.R.H. in a portrait curiously unlike the +original. + +The two most effective incidents were borrowed from the Circus and the +Halls. Mr. DU CALION, who had no other very obvious claims to play the +part of a humorous courtier, did his famous ladder-feat--a perfectly +gratuitous performance, for, though he was supposed to be rescuing +_Cinderella_ through a top-storey window, she had the good sense to +descend by the staircase, having ignored, as is the way of Love, the +locked door that made this impossible. + +The other imported business was the work of a black horse, who +preserved an expression of extreme gravity and detached boredom +during the play of human wit around his person, dissimulating his own +superior gifts of humour until called upon to illustrate them with +some excellent circus-tricks. + +On the sentimental side, Miss MARIE BLANCHE, obedient to the +inexorable tradition that a young hero of pantomime must be a woman, +played _Prince Charming_ with the right manners that makyth man; and +as _Cinderella_ Miss FLORENCE SMITHSON once more breathed that air of +innocence which still remains unstaled by years of steady addiction +to the heroine habit. Her vocal intrusions, always well received, were +not always well timed; certainly it was an error of judgment to insert +a solo at the cross-roads after she had told us that she hadn't a +moment to spare if she was to get home from the ball before the rest +of the family. But here again it was a matter of obedience to some +unwritten and inscrutable law of pantomime which it is not for us, the +profane, to question. + +And in this spirit I tender a grateful acknowledgment not only of +the good things that my intelligence could appreciate in this lavish +entertainment, but also of the other things that I can never hope to +understand. + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +Commercial Candour. + +"Good Boots . . . . . . 25/- + No Better. . . . . . . 37/6." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Speaker (endeavouring to cultivate a patriotic spirit +in the young)._ "AND NOW, CHILDREN, IF YOU SAW OUR GLORIOUS FLAG +WAVING TRIUMPHANTLY OVER THE BATTLE-FIELD, WHAT WOULD YOU THINK? +(_Prolonged pause_) COME, COME, WHAT WOULD YOU ---- WELL, MY LITTLE +MAN, WHAT WOULD YOU THINK?" + +_Small Boy._ "PLEASE, ZUR, THE WIND WERE BLOWIN'."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +"I remember, I remember...." Still on every side echoes the poet's +cry, while scarce a publisher but can prove that the thoughts of age +make long, long books. Certainly not the shortest of these, but among +the most readable, is _A Medley of Memories_ (ARNOLD), in which the +Right Rev. Sir DAVID HUNTER-BLAIR has embodied the recollections of +his very active career as Benedictine monk and a leading figure in the +world of British Catholicism. Eton, Oxford, Rome, and (of course) his +own famous monastery at Fort Augustus, are the chief scenes of it; +and about them all Sir DAVID talks vividly, even brilliantly. I am not +saying that all this pleasant garrulity would not have been the +better for the blue pencil, especially in those chapters in which the +writer's memory dwells almost to excess upon the births, marriages, +deaths and dinner-parties of the orthodox Peerage. Elsewhere, however, +Sir DAVID finds occasion in plenty for the exercise of a wit so +dextrously handled that often his thrust is delivered before you have +realized that the rapier has left its sheath. I had marked a score of +examples for quotation (and now have space for none) and twice as many +good stories. In the Oxford recollections it was pleasant to renew my +own lively memories of a certain notorious lecture by Mr. WALTER WALSH +on Ritualistic Societies, when violence was narrowly averted by the +tactful chairmanship of the present LORD CHANCELLOR--a lecture from +which (as Mr. BELLOC observed at the time) "each member of the large +audience departed confirmed and strengthened in whatever convictions +he might previously have entertained." I sincerely hope that Sir DAVID +has yet in store for us those latter-day gleanings which he has been +compelled to dismiss for the present as being too recent for print. + + * * * * * + +Mr. G. B. STERN has set himself to study with sympathy and a candour +which extenuates nothing the Jew in England in the circumstances of +war, and in particular the Jew of German origin completely loyal to +the country of his adoption, but suspected and persecuted by such +simple folk (and journals) as are content to put their faith in +equally simple proverbs about leopards and spots. I suppose if +_Children of No Man's Land_ (DUCKWORTH) has a hero and heroine you +will find them in _Richard Marcus_ and his sister _Deborah_. Young +_Richard_, passionately English, with all the simple unquestioning +loyalty of the public-school boy, counts the months to the day when +he can testify to this by bearing arms in his country's defence, but +finds nothing open but internment or (by much wangling) a possible +niche in a Labour battalion. _Deborah's_ adventures are chiefly of the +heart, or what passes for the heart with a common type of modern girl +anxious to wring every sensation out of life that playing with +fire can give. It does not do to betray one's age by expressing too +confidently the idea that much of all the goings-on of _Deborah_ +and her friends _Gillian_ and _Antonia_ seems impossible. Mr. STERN +certainly writes as if he knew what he was writing about, and there +is so rich an exuberance in the way he crowds his canvas, and so much +humour expressed and repressed in his point of view, that I found this +a distinctly entertaining and instructive book. + + * * * * * + +_Living Bayonets: A Record of the Last Push_ (LANE) is a fourth of the +enthusiastic and fiery war-books of that eminently enthusiastic and +inextinguishably fiery warrior-author, Lieutenant CONINGSBY DAWSON, of +the Canadian Field Artillery. If he evinces, blatantly at times, the +motives and perspective of the propagandist, he is justified by the +fact that he most ardently practised the Hun hatred which he preaches. +He states that he enjoyed the dangers and discomforts of so doing, and +his assertion is proved to be a true one by his having returned again +and again to the fray, notwithstanding every excuse and temptation to +leave it. The book follows on after his _Khaki Courage_, and is +also in the form of letters to his people at home. It takes up the +narrative at April 14th, 1917, and carries it to the triumphant end. +When, by reason of his wounds, he had to leave the Front and work in +London and elsewhere, he naturally lost touch with the real business +of the battle; even after his return to the Front in April, 1918, his +letters lack their original sense of actuality, and I, reading them, +began to wonder if he was ever going to recover his former style. +Happily he does so, and with his letter of July 11th he gives a +striking picture of a terrible incident of war, of which I don't +remember to have read before, but, as I read it now, I seem to be +witnessing it myself. From this point on he steadily develops his +best, so that he ends on a fitting climax to all his writings of the +War in his long final letter of October 6th--propaganda unashamed. +The book should be thrust under the noses of those pacifists who now +labour to minimise the past and to magnify the virtue and the value of +their personal loving-kindness. + + * * * * * + +It has ever been my misfortune that the presence in a story of two +characters confusably alike, or a setting within drowning distance +of a tide-race, will produce in me an almost insuperable sense of its +having been "made on purpose." I had therefore a double stroke of bad +luck in finding both these elements present in _The Splendid Fairing_ +(MILLS AND BOON). But the more credit to Miss CONSTANCE HOLME that, +despite my increasing conviction that the wrong prodigal would return, +and that the powers of nature were throughout almost visibly preparing +to engulf him, the gentle and unforced power of her story did hold my +attention till the final wave. Distinction shown in apparent absence +of effort would, I think, be my verdict on her writing; she clearly +knows her Northern farmer-folk with the sympathy of intimate +experience. I hope I have not already suggested too much of the plot, +a little tragedy of the commonplace dealing with the relations between +two farming brothers, of whom the younger prospers while the elder +fails, and the life-long jealousies of their women. Miss HOLME works, +one may say, on a minute scale; the short but simple annals of the +poor interest her to the extent of providing an entire volume of three +hundred odd pages from the events of a single day. But though now and +then the old Northern counsel to "get eendways wi' it" does hover in +the background of one's mind I repeat that sincerity carries the thing +through. For all that, however, _The Splendid Fairing_ did but confirm +me in a previous impression that these Mary-call-the-cattle-home +localities must remain more convenient to the local colourist than +attractive to the inhabitants. + + * * * * * + +The publication, as a foreword, of a "Glossary of Native Words" used +in the text made me wonder whether I should be bored or instructed, +or both, by _The Death Drum_ (HURST AND BLACKETT). Most happily I was +neither. Miss MARGARET PETERSON has built her novel, perhaps a trifle +hastily, about a quite uncommon theme and given it, in Uganda, a quite +uncommon setting. It is the story of a half-caste who marries a white +girl in order to avenge, in her degradation, his sister whom the +English girl's brother had betrayed. I must not say that _Tom Davis_, +the half-caste, is too much a white man--for Miss PETERSON, to do her +justice, has distributed goodness and badness among her blacks and +whites with a quite impartial hand--but he is too fine a fellow to +carry out his own plan, and, before he has done any lasting harm to +the girl he has come to love, he takes himself, by way of a native +rising, to a lotus-covered lake, and so out of her life. It seems a +pity that the happiness of the story's end couldn't include _Tom_, but +his ancestry effectually barred the way, and Miss PETERSON has had to +rely upon a very strong and not quite silent Englishman of the best +type for her satisfactory finish. + + * * * * * + +Few authors have a shrewder idea than Mr. P. G. WODEHOUSE of what the +British and American public want in the way of humour, and I do not +know anyone more determined to supply their requirements. He would +be a dull fellow indeed who did not appreciate the high spirits and +humorous situations to be found in _A Damsel in Distress_ (JENKINS). +It is no small feat to maintain a riot of irresponsible fun for more +than three hundred pages, but Mr. WODEHOUSE gets going at once, and +keeps up the pace to the end without even a pause to get his +second wind. If some of the characters--a ridiculous peer, his more +ridiculous sister and his most ridiculous butler--are of the "stock" +variety, Mr. WODEHOUSE'S way of treating them is always fresh and +amusing. But in his next frolic I beseech him to give golf and its +tiresome lingo a complete rest. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Customer._ "MAY I LOOK AT THAT TWELVE-GUINEA SUIT IN +THE WINDOW? (_Catching sight of ticket_) GOOD GRACIOUS! IT'S TWELVE +POUNDS THIRTEEN NOW." + +_Tailor._ "YESSIR--A BRIGHT LITTLE NOTION OF OURS, IF I MAY SAY SO. A +TICKER ATTACHED, LIKE THOSE THINGS IN THE TAXICABS, TO KEEP THE PRICE +UP-TO-DATE."] + + * * * * * + + "Straying.--Wm. ----, for allowing three houses to stray on + the highway, was fined 20s."--_Local Paper._ + +In these days landlords cannot be too careful. + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Note: + +Errata: + +Page 6: 'particlarly' corrected to 'particularly'. +["... makes her verses particularly susceptible to quotation."] + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +CLVIII, January 7, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH-CHARIVARI, JANUARY 7, 1920 *** + +***** This file should be named 30593-8.txt or 30593-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/5/9/30593/ + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Jonathan Ingram 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. CLVIII, January 7, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: December 3, 2009 [EBook #30593] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH-CHARIVARI, JANUARY 7, 1920 *** + + + + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Jonathan Ingram and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/001-1500.png"><img src="images/001-350.png" width="350" height="458" alt="Punch. Vol. CLVIII." /></a> +<h5 style="font-weight: normal;">LONDON:</h5> +<h4 style="font-weight: normal;">PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.4.</h4> +<h5 style="font-weight: normal;">1920.</h5> + </div> + + + + +<h5 style="font-weight: normal; margin-top: 2em;">Bradbury, Agnew & Co., Ltd.,</h5> +<h5 style="font-weight: normal;">Printers,</h5> +<h5 style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 3em;">Whitefriars, London, E.C.4.</h5> + + + +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page1" id="page1"></a>[pg 1]</span> + +<h1>PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>VOLUME 158, <span class="sc">January</span> 7, 1920</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/003-1500.png"><img src="images/003-600.png" width="600" height="444" alt="VOLUME CLVIII." /></a></div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>NEW WELLS FOR OLD.</h2> + +<p>Over the top of Part II. of <i>The Outline +of History</i> I caught the smiling +glance of the man in the opposite +corner of the compartment.</p> + +<p>"Good stuff that," he said, indicating +the History with a jerk of his head.</p> + +<p>"Quite," I agreed, maintaining my +distance.</p> + +<p>"Immense," he continued. "And it +means the dawn of a new life for me. +I'm <span class="sc">Wells's</span> hero. Every time I've +appeared in his half-yearly masterpiece, +ever since <i>Tono Bungay</i>. And look at +the mess he's made of my life. Often +I've had to start it under the cloud of +mysterious parentage. Invariably I +have been endowed with a Mind (capital +M). Think of those uphill fights of mine +against adverse conditions. And my +unhappy marriages. He has led me +into every variation of infidelity. When +I <i>did</i> hit it off with my wife for once, +he sent us to the Arctic regions as a +punishment. In the depth of winter, +too.</p> + +<p>But, now he's taken up this History, +I'm free. The dam has burst and strange +things come floating down ..."</p> + +<p>He sprang to his feet in his excitement. +He was wearing a loose-fitting +suit and what his master might call a +lower middle-class hat.</p> + +<p>"And now I'm going to do all the +things I've always wanted to do. A +happy marriage; well-ordered life in the +suburbs; warm slippers in the fender, +and all that that stands for; kinemas, +perhaps, and bowls. An allotment ..."</p> + +<p>"But," I objected, "this History won't +occupy him for ever. There should be +only about sixteen more parts. He'll +have you out again next autumn."</p> + +<p>"But <span class="sc">Wells</span> is getting the Suburban +idea too." He was standing right over +me, glaring horribly with excitement. +The train had entered a tunnel and he +was shouting bravely against the din. +"Look in Part I. He acknowledges the +help he has received from Mrs. <span class="sc">Wells</span>. +And her watchful criticism. That from +<i>him</i>! I tell you I am free—free!"</p> + +<p>He was shaking me by the shoulders +now, his face close to mine. "I shall +have my allotment. Prize parsnips—giant +marrows!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure," I yelled—the +tunnel seemed endless. "Remember +poor old <i>Sherlock</i>. <span class="sc">Doyle</span> raised <i>him</i> +from the dead. And you"—my voice +rising to a scream—"he'll have you +out—out—<span class="sc">out</span>!"</p> +<p class="center" style="font-size: 1.4em;"> + * + * + * + * + * +</p> +<p>As I came to I heard my dentist remark +to the doctor that I always had +been a bad patient under gas.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MR. PUNCH ON SILK STOCKINGS.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Dear Mr. Punch</span>,—Your article about +Christmas presents was a great success. +I took your advice about the silk stockings, +and sent the following verses with +them, which some of your married +readers may care to cut out and keep +for future use:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Your stockings once, on Christmas Eve,</p> +<p class="i2">Would hang, your cot adorning,</p> +<p>And Father Christmas, we believe,</p> +<p class="i2">Would fill them ere the morning;</p> +<p>But since he spied your dainty toes</p> +<p class="i2">To exchange the parts he's willing:</p> +<p>He thinks it's his to send the hose</p> +<p class="i2">And yours to find the filling.</p> +<p>He lays his offerings at your feet</p> +<p class="i2">And hopes you won't deride them,</p> +<p>For he has nothing half so neat</p> +<p class="i2">As you to put inside them.</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>There! I can only repeat that the +results were excellent, and express my +gratitude to you for the same.</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i20">Yours obediently,</p> +<p class="i28"><span class="sc">Grateful Husband.</span></p> + </div> </div> + +<p>P.S.—The ties I got this time were +quite all right; she too must have +read your article.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page2" id="page2"></a>[pg 2]</span> + +<hr /> + +<h3>NATURE AND ART.</h3> + +<h4><i>To Betty, who can afford to defy the laws of symmetry.</i></h4> + +<blockquote><p> +[Being reflections on the old theory, recently developed before the +Hellenic Society by Mr. <span class="sc">Jay Hambridge</span>, that certain formulæ of +proportions found in nature—notably in the normal ratio between a +man's height and the span of his outstretched arms (2 : √5)—constituted +the basis of symmetry in the art of the Greeks and, earlier, of +the Egyptians.] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Betty, I fear you don't conform</p> +<p>Precisely to the female norm</p> +<p class="i2">From dainty foot to charming noddle,</p> +<p>But, closely measured, span by span,</p> +<p>Seem built upon a private plan</p> +<p>Not found in <span class="sc">Annie Kellerman</span></p> +<p class="i2">Or in the well-known Melos model.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>If you compare your width and height—</p> +<p>Arms horizontal, left and right—</p> +<p class="i2">With ancient types of pure perfection,</p> +<p>The ratio may not, it's true,</p> +<p>Be as the root of 5 to 2,</p> +<p>But what, my dear, has that to do</p> +<p class="i2">With laws of natural selection?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Let Mr. <span class="sc">Hambridge</span> to your shape</p> +<p>Apply his T-square and his tape,</p> +<p class="i2">And wish that you were more archaic;</p> +<p>Why should I care? I love you best</p> +<p>For what no compasses can test,</p> +<p>For graces not to be expressed</p> +<p class="i2">In terms however algebraic.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I love you for the lips and eyes</p> +<p>That none may hope to standardize</p> +<p class="i2">On any system known to Hellas;</p> +<p>And what I like about your smile</p> +<p>Has no relation to the style</p> +<p>Of any pyramid of Nile</p> +<p class="i2">Figured by mathematic fellahs.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Though your proportions mayn't agree</p> +<p>With <span class="sc">Fechner's</span> pedant formulæ,</p> +<p class="i2">I don't complain of such disparity;</p> +<p>Too flawless that perfection shows;</p> +<p>For me a larger comfort flows</p> +<p>From human failings (take your nose—</p> +<p class="i2">I like its quaint irregularity).</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Indeed I love you best of all</p> +<p>For those defects by which you fall</p> +<p class="i2">Short of the pattern you should follow;</p> +<p>As I would fain be loved for mine,</p> +<p>Speaking as one whose own design</p> +<p>Lacks something of the perfect line</p> +<p class="i2">Affected by the young Apollo.</p> +<p class="i28">O. S.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>HOW TO GAIN A JOURNALISTIC POSITION.</h3> + +<p>Young aspirants are always endeavouring to secure posts +on our leading newspapers, and complain bitterly that their +letters of application are ignored by obtuse editors. To +help them in this sad ambition Mr. Punch has composed +a series of letters to divers editors which he guarantees will +prove eminently satisfactory.</p> + +<h4><i>To the Editor of "The Daily News."</i></h4> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—I regard the insufferable <span class="sc">Lloyd George</span> as the +most dangerous, the most malignant, the most incompetent +politician who has ever attempted to misrule this country. +The iniquity of the Coalition will make enlightened rulers +like <span class="sc">Lenin</span> and <span class="sc">Trotsky</span> blush for the human race. I feel +with you that till the real Liberal party returns to power +England will never know peace and prosperity. Then and +then only will brotherly friendship between England and +Germany be renewed. Then and then only shall we see +cheap milk, cheap coal, abundant housing, the Free Breakfast +Table and the Large Cocoa Cup. To show my devotion +to the cause you so nobly advocate I may say that I have +actually read every article contributed by Mr. <span class="sc">Masterman</span> +to your paper. I am strongly in favour of an <i>entente</i> with +Labour, by which Labour should agree not to contest any +seats where the true Asquithians stand a chance. I enclose +as a specimen of my work the first of a series of articles on +"How <span>Lloyd George</span> lost the War," which I am sure will +be invaluable at by-elections.</p> + +<h4><i>To the Editor of "The Daily Mail."</i></h4> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—I am young and, if possible, growing younger daily. +My motto is "Hustle and Bustle" and not "Dilly and +Dally." I live on standard bread, in a wooden hut embowered, +when feasible, with sweet peas. My ear is always +close to the ground, and I can confidently predict what the +man in the street will be thinking about the day after tomorrow. +Politically, I am opposed to the Wastrels, the +Wee Frees and the Bolsheviks, and am not prepared as yet +to back Labour unreservedly. I can express myself brightly +and briefly on any topical subject. Herewith I send specimen +articles (length three hundred words) on "Poker +Bridge," "Are we having Wetter Washdays?" and "The +Woggle-Wiggle Dance." Should there be no vacancy on +your staff I should be prepared to accept one on any other +of your publications—<i>The Weekly Dispatch</i>, <i>The Times</i> or +<i>The Rainbow</i>.</p> + +<h4><i>To the Editor of "The Manchester Guardian."</i></h4> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—I was a Conscientious Objector during the War. I +conscientiously object to everything still, including the +Peace Treaty. I speak and write fifteen languages and +dialects, including Oxford English. I have a comprehensive +knowledge of social and political life in Continental Europe, +Asia, Africa, America and Polynesia. I have also resided in +England. I have a deep conviction that under all conditions, +everywhere and at all times, England is invariably +and absolutely in the wrong. In home politics I am resolutely +opposed to all the Coalition has done, is doing or will +do. It is my firm opinion that the actions of England +would become less deplorable, less criminal if Mr. <span class="sc">Asquith</span> +returned to power. I enclose as specimens of my mentality +two intensely human articles which I doubt not will find a +home in your columns: "Proportional Representation in +Jugo-Slavia" (length four thousand five hundred words) and +"Futurism under <span class="sc">Trotsky</span>" (length five thousand words).</p> + +<h4><i>To the Editor of "The Spectator."</i></h4> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—In offering my services to you I may point out how +happily my up-bringing and mental training have fitted me +for a post on your staff. The child of an Archdeacon (who +was also honorary chaplain to a rifle club), I was born in a +house with earth-filled walls and brought up in intimate +association with a large number of most intelligent animals. +If desired I am prepared to relate anecdotes of the family +bull-dog and a pet she-goat which will verify my description. +I feel with you that England can only be saved by relying +on a Free-Trading, Non-Socialist, Church Establishment. +I loathe alike Mr. <span class="sc">Asquith</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd George</span>, and +think that the intellect of England, which blossoms so luxuriously +in country rectories and deaneries, finds its best +expression in Lord <span class="sc">Hugh Cecil</span>. As a specimen of my +literary ability I enclose a middle article on "The Sense of +Obligation in Tom-Cats."</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page3" id="page3"></a>[pg 3]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:600px;"><a href="images/005-1500.png"><img src="images/005-400.png" width="400" height="455" alt="A 'POSITIVELY LAST' APPEARANCE." /></a> +<h2>A "POSITIVELY LAST" APPEARANCE.</h2> + +<p><span class="sc">Mr. Punch.</span> "ACCEPT THIS POOR TRIBUTE IN RECOGNITION OF MUCH GOOD +ENTERTAINMENT +IN THE PAST. I DON'T KNOW WHAT MY ARTISTS WOULD HAVE DONE +WITHOUT YOU."</p> + +<p class="center">[The recent withdrawal of horsed cabs from certain ranks in the London district +foreshadows the final extinction of this venerable type.]</p></div> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page4" id="page4"></a>[pg 4]</span> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:600px;"><a href="images/006-1500.png"><img src="images/006-600.png" width="600" height="431" alt="Club Grouser. 'What do you call this?'" /></a> +<p><i>Club Grouser.</i> "<span class="sc">What do you call this?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Waiter.</i> "<span class="sc">That's game pie, Sir.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Club Grouser.</i> "<span class="sc">Umph! Think I must have got a bit of the +football.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>CHARIVARIA.</h2> + +<p>It is rumoured that Professor <span class="sc">Porta</span> +has sent a message to Mr. <span class="sc">Lloyd +George</span>, wishing him a Happy New +World.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. Justice <span class="sc">Rowlatt</span> has decided +that photography is not a profession. +With some actresses, of course, it is +just a disease.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The gentleman who drew 1920 in a +fifty-pound sweepstake as the date of +the ex-Kaiser's trial is now prepared to +sell his chance for sixpence-halfpenny.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"He is not a politician," says Mr. <span class="sc">R. +Harcourt</span> in <i>The Times</i>, referring to +Sir <span class="sc">Auckland Geddes</span>. It will be +interesting to see how Sir <span class="sc">Auckland</span> +accepts this compliment.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A letter posted at Hull for Odessa in +July, 1914, has just been returned to the +sender. The postal authorities are +thought to take the view that the sender +should be given an opportunity of +adding a few seasonable observations +to his previous remarks.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It is all nonsense to say that there +can be no change in the present high +prices. They can always go higher.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Owing to the strike of cabmen in +Glasgow a number of people had to +walk home on New Year's Eve. It is +not said how the others got home, but +we have made a guess.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>On enquiry about the erection of +huge new premises in the Strand by +the American Bush Terminal Company, +we gather that London is not to be +removed, but will be allowed to remain +next door.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Inspector <span class="sc">Moss</span> of the Great Eastern +Railway Police has just had his pocket +picked and thirty pounds stolen. It is +only fair to say that he was in plain +clothes and the thief did not know he +was a police officer.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A history of the Ministry of Munitions +is to be compiled at a cost of +£9,648. To keep the expense down to +this modest sum by economy in printing +Mr. <span class="sc">Winston Churchill</span> will be +referred to throughout as "X."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A man has been charged with damaging +a London omnibus. He pleaded that +the vehicle pushed him first.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mrs. <span class="sc">Payne</span>, the only woman mouse-trap-maker +in London, has retired from +the business. It is said that a number +of mice hope to arrange a farewell +cheese.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>At a recent meeting of the Peace +Conference it was decided that the +troubles in Egypt and India should in +future be referred to as Honorary Wars.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Indians much appreciate <span class="sc">Charlie +Chaplin</span>, says <i>The Weekly Dispatch</i>. +We felt confident that this film comedian +would come into his own some +day.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Only two minor railway accidents +were reported in December, but a South +Coast train which started that month is +reported to have run into the New Year.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>It is estimated that <i>The Outline of +History</i> by Mr. <span class="sc">H. G. Wells</span> will be +concluded this year. It would be a +pleasing compliment to the author if at +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page5" id="page5"></a>[pg 5]</span> +the end of that time Parliament made +it illegal for any more history to happen.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Thames angler who was asked +in the Club at night if he had had any +luck that day, and replied that he had +not had a bite, is thought to be an +impostor.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>An Insurance official states that thin +people live longer than stout. This is +probably due to the fact that when thin +people stand sideways the motor-car +doesn't get a real chance.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"It is just twenty months since we +experienced the last hostile air-raid," +states an evening paper. Should this +indiscreet statement reach the ears +of certain Government Officials it is +feared that one or two of our picturesque +anti-aircraft stations may be +dismantled.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>According to an American paper, a +lawyer has left New York for Mexico, +in order to try to explain to the inhabitants +the meaning of Peace and the +benefits to be derived from joining the +League of Nations. We understand he +has made full arrangements for leaving +a widow and two young children.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Our heart goes out to the tenant of +an experimental paper-house who discovered, +on going up-stairs, that his +two-year-old son in a fit of ungovernable +passion had torn up his nursery.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A man has written to <i>The Daily Mail</i> +advocating the alteration of the calendar +to thirteen months of twenty-eight +days each, <i>with two Christmas Days in +Leap Year</i>. The writer—to do him +justice—did not sign himself "Paterfamilias."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The New Poor Dance Club, which +has opened in the West End, is having +its vicissitudes. Last week, it is reported, +a distinguished stranger mistook +a waiter for one of the members, +and the waiters have threatened to +strike if it occurs again.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Los Angeles, California, says a New +York cable, is suffering from an unprecedented +crime wave. A proposal by +President <span class="sc">Carranza</span> to draw a <i>cordon +sanitaire</i> round the place has not yet +reached Washington.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"Are dark people cleverer than fair?" +asks a contemporary. These clumsy +attempts to destroy the Coalition spirit +are too transparent to be successful.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Intending visitors to the Zoological +Gardens in Phœnix Park, Dublin, are +now required to get a permit from the +military authorities. A daring attempt +by a Sinn Feiner to approach the +Viceregal Lodge under cover of a cassowary +is said to be responsible for +the order.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The ex-Kaiser, it is stated, has asked +the Prussian Government if there would +be any objection to his settling in Peru +as a cattle-raiser. The probability that +the Crown Prince will settle in France +for a spell as a watch-lifter is thought +to have fired the ex-Imperial imagination.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A report from Chicago states that, +as a result of the prevailing taste for +wood-alcohol, a number of citizens +successfully revived the ancient custom +of seeing the Aurora Borealis in.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:350px;"><a href="images/007-1000.png"><img src="images/007-340.png" width="340" height="457" alt="'Hurry up, Johnson--what a time you take!'" /></a> +<p><span class="sc">"Hurry up, Johnson—what a time you take!"</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">"I can't get through these beastly troops."</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The charm of a pleasing figure depends +upon an uneasy fitting corset."</p> + +<p class="author1"><i>Advt. in Canadian Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Il faut souffrir pour être belle.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"There would also be great competition for +carniferous timber from other countries."</p> + +<p class="author1"><i>Scotch Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Not so much now that the meat-shortage +is over.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Dundee leads the way in Scotland in a +new phase of sport for ladies.</p> + +<p>The innovation was created by the City +Magistrates to-day, when an application for a +billiard-room license in the new City Hall +was granted.</p> + +<p>Under the license ladies will be permitted +to cross cues with gentlemen partners in a +public billiard-room."—<i>Local Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>It is supposed that their worships were +under the impression that billiards was +a new form of shinty.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page6" id="page6"></a>[pg 6]</span> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE TUBE CURE.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +[It has been observed that employees in the +Tubes never catch cold while at work, and +doctors, questioned by an evening paper, have +said that "the Tube atmosphere should be +quite likely to cure a cold if breathed long +enough—say for an hour at a stretch."] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>To-day, when I acquire a cold</p> +<p class="i2">(Rude Boreas having blustered),</p> +<p>I do not, as in times of old,</p> +<p class="i2">Immerse my feet in mustard;</p> +<p>I put a penny in a slot</p> +<p class="i2">At some Tube railway station</p> +<p>And draw a ticket for a not</p> +<p class="i2">Far distant destination.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I shun the crowded lifts, although</p> +<p class="i2">They're right enough in their way,</p> +<p>And make my calm, unruffled, slow</p> +<p class="i2">Descension by the stairway;</p> +<p>'Tis there a man can be alone,</p> +<p class="i2">Immune from all intrusion;</p> +<p>I doubt if there was ever known</p> +<p class="i2">Its equal for seclusion.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Where no invading footsteps fall</p> +<p class="i2">I quaff the healthy vapours,</p> +<p>While glancing at my ease through all</p> +<p class="i2">The illustrated papers;</p> +<p>And since I've found the bottom stair</p> +<p class="i2">A place they don't upholster,</p> +<p>I always take when going there</p> +<p class="i2">A small pneumatic bolster.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Not till an hour or twain have gone,</p> +<p class="i2">Thus pleasantly expended,</p> +<p>Do I proceed to carry on,</p> +<p class="i2">And, when my journey's ended,</p> +<p>I find all dread bacilli slain—</p> +<p class="i2">No germ shows his (or her) face—</p> +<p>And so, my cherry self again,</p> +<p class="i2">Come blithely to the surface.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A BUNCH OF POETS.</h3> + +<p>Mr. Obadiah Geek has broken his +long silence to some purpose. Those +who remember his pre-war achievements +in the field of polychromatic +romanticism will hardly be prepared +for his present development, which lifts +him at a bound from the overcrowded +ranks of lyric-writers to the uncongested +heights whereon recline the great +masters of epic poetry. And yet it was +perhaps inevitable. The thunder and +the reek of war (the last two years of +which, we believe, were spent by Mr. +Geek in the Egg Control Department) +could scarcely have failed to imprint +their mark on the author of <i>Eros in +Eruption</i>; and so he has given us a +real epic, whose very title, <i>Ad Astra</i>, is +symbolic of the high altitudes in which +he so triumphantly and so securely +navigates. Outwardly it is a story of +the War, but there is little difficulty in +probing the allegory; and those who +follow the hero's vicissitudes as a +private in the Gasoliers, right through +to his victorious advancement to the +rank of Acting Lance-Corporal, unpaid +(and there is a symbolism even in the +"unpaid"), will readily supply the +application to the affairs of everyday +life.</p> + +<p>The ten thousand odd lines of this +inspired poem are liberally enlivened +with those characteristic flashes which +Mr. Geek's previous efforts have led us +to expect. Nothing could be happier +than the following, descriptive of the +hero's early days on the barrack-square:—</p> + +<div class="poem1"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The Sergeant rolled his eyes toward the azure</p> +<p>And called down curses on my bloody head...</p> +<p>"You buzz about," his peroration ran,</p> +<p>"Like a bluebottle in a sugar-bowl.</p> +<p>Thank God we have a Navy!" and my feet,</p> +<p>Turned outward, as they had been drilled to turn,</p> +<p>At forty-five degrees or thereabouts,</p> +<p>Itched to join issue with his swollen paunch;</p> +<p>But I refrained.</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>Or again:—</p> + +<div class="poem1"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Fame, the skyscraper, hath a thousand floors;</p> +<p>And some toil slowly upward, stair by stair,</p> +<p>And stagger and halt and faint upon the way;</p> +<p>Others, more fortunate, achieve the top</p> +<p>At one swift elevation, by the lift.</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>Mr. Geek, whatever his method of +progression may have been, has certainly +"achieved the top"—if indeed he +has not gone over it.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>In <i>Throbs</i>, Miss Gramercy Gingham-Potts +reveals a depth of feeling and +delicacy of expression that should +secure her the right of entry to every +art-calendar and birthday-book. Her +Muse is, perhaps, a trifle anæmic, but +to many none the less interesting on +that account; its very fragility, in fact, +constitutes its chief appeal. She has +an engaging gift of definition that, +combined with a keen appreciation of +the obvious, makes her verses <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'particlarly'">particularly</ins> +susceptible to quotation. For +instance:—</p> + +<div class="poem1"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The maiden asked, "What is a kiss?"</p> +<p class="i6">The poet wrote:</p> +<p>"Kisses are stamps that frank with bliss</p> +<p class="i6">Love's contract-note."</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>While for effectively studied simplicity +it would be difficult to match the lyrical +gem to which Miss Gingham-Potts has +given the arresting title, "Farewell":—</p> + +<div class="poem1"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The birds sing sweet in Summer;</p> +<p class="i2">The daisies hear their song;</p> +<p>But Winter's come, and they are dumb</p> +<p class="i10"> So long.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I told my love in Summer,</p> +<p class="i2">So pure and brave and strong;</p> +<p>But frosts came on; my love is gone;</p> +<p class="i10"> So long!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p>A new volume by the author of <i>Swings +and Roundabouts</i> is something of an +event; and in <i>Bottles and Jugs</i> Mr. +Ughtred Biggs makes another fascinating +raid on the garbage-bins of London's +underworld. Mr. Biggs is a stark realist, +and his unminced meat may prove +too strong for some stomachs; but those +who can digest the fare he offers will find +it wonderfully sustaining. Here is no +condiment of verbiage, no dressing of +the picturesque. Life is served up high, +and almost raw. By way of illustration +we cannot do better than quote +from the opening poem, "Bill's Wife," +in which the calculated roughness of the +rhythm is redolent of the pervading +atmosphere:—</p> + +<div class="poem1"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>At the corner of the street</p> +<p class="i2">Stands the Blue-faced Pig;</p> +<p>Outside a barrel-organ is playing</p> +<p class="i2">And the people are dancing a jig.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>A woman waits there grimly;</p> +<p class="i2">Her eyes are set and her lips drawn thin;</p> +<p>For Bill, her man, is in the public,</p> +<p class="i2">Soaking his soul in gin.</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>Students of sociology might do worse +than devote careful attention to these +gaunt chronicles of Slumland.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The following stanzas, taken from a +poem entitled "Reconstruction," are a +favourable example of Mr. Thor Pinmoney's +somewhat unequal genius:—</p> + +<div class="poem1"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>By strife we live, but boredom slays;</p> +<p>My mind from out this office strays</p> +<p>And takes me back to the spacious days</p> +<p class="i4">When I counted socks in Ordnance.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I hate my pen; I hate my stool;</p> +<p>What am I but a nerveless tool?</p> +<p>But we did not work by rote or rule</p> +<p class="i4">When I counted socks in Ordnance....</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>There are times even now when it really seems</p> +<p>I'm back in a suburb of shell-shocked Rheims;</p> +<p>But the office echoes my waking screams</p> +<p>When I find it was only in my dreams</p> +<p class="i4">I was counting socks in Ordnance.</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>Unfortunately, all Mr. Pinmoney's +efforts do not come up to this standard, +and we should be almost inclined to +wonder whether the writer has not after +all mistaken his vocation, were it not for +the really brilliant piece of work which +brings the volume (<i>Pegasus Comes Home</i>) +to a close. We make no apology for reproducing +this masterpiece in full:—</p> + +<div class="poem1"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Man comes</p> +<p class="i2">And goes.</p> +<p>What then?</p> +<p class="i2">Who knows?</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>Here we have the whole philosophy +of life and the life hereafter summed up. +If he never writes another line Mr. Pinmoney +is by this assured of a permanent +place in the anthology of post-bellum +poetry.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Replying to the toast of his health, Mr. +Lloyd George said it was a great boon that a +large industrial community should have been +founded amongst these lovely surroundings, a +boon not only for the workers, but also for +their little children, who would have the +advantage of being reared in georgeous mountain +air."—<i>Daily Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Lloyd-Georgeous, in fact.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page7" id="page7"></a>[pg 7]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:650px;"><a href="images/009-1500.png"><img src="images/009-600.png" width="600" height="566" alt="MANNERS AND MODES." /></a> +<h3>MANNERS AND MODES.</h3> + +<p class="center">HORRIBLE NIGHTMARE OF A LADY WHO DREAMS THAT SHE HAS GONE TO A BALL IN HER +NIGHT-GOWN +AND FOUND HERSELF SHOCKINGLY OVERDRESSED.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE "FIRST HUNDRED" OF LOEB.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +[The Loeb Classical Library, founded by a +munificent American millionaire, Mr. <span class="sc">James +Loeb</span> (<i>prononcez</i> "Lobe"), and edited by Dr. +<span class="sc">E. Capps</span>, Mr. <span class="sc">T. E. Page</span> and Dr. <span class="sc">W. H. D. +Rouse</span>, has now reached its hundredth volume.] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>When ways are foul and days are damp,</p> +<p>When agitators rage and ramp,</p> +<p>And <span class="sc">Smillie</span>, with the aid of <span class="sc">Cramp</span>,</p> +<p class="i4">Threatens to rend the globe;</p> +<p>When margarine is scarce, or beef,</p> +<p>And drinks are dear and few and brief,</p> +<p>I find refreshment and relief</p> +<p class="i4">And comfort in my <span class="sc">Loeb</span>.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Good print, good company, a text</p> +<p>By no vain annotations vexed</p> +<p>Which call from students sore perplexed</p> +<p class="i4">The patience of a Job;</p> +<p>And, page by page, a first-rate crib,</p> +<p>Neither too faithful nor too glib—</p> +<p>That, without fulsomeness or fib,</p> +<p class="i4">Is what we get in <span class="sc">Loeb</span>.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Let scientists on various fronts</p> +<p>Indulge in their atomic stunts,</p> +<p>Or harness to our prams and punts</p> +<p class="i4">The puissant radiobe;</p> +<p>Me rather it delights to roam</p> +<p>Across the salt Ægean foam</p> +<p>With old Odysseus, far from home,</p> +<p class="i4">And bless the name of <span class="sc">Loeb</span>.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>To soar with <span class="sc">Plato</span> to the heights;</p> +<p>To find in <span class="sc">Plutarch's</span> kings and knights</p> +<p>The human touch that more delights</p> +<p class="i4">Than crown or regal robe;</p> +<p>To taste the fresh Pierian springs,</p> +<p>To see <span class="sc">Catullus</span> scorch his wings</p> +<p>With the fierce flame that sears and stings—</p> +<p>For this I thank thee, <span class="sc">Loeb</span>.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I've made no fortune out of beer;</p> +<p>I'm not a plutocrat or peer,</p> +<p>Nor yet a bloated profiteer,</p> +<p class="i4">An OM or e'en an OBE;</p> +<p>But if I'd thirty pounds to spare</p> +<p>I'd go and blow them then and there</p> +<p>Upon the Hundred Books that bear</p> +<p class="i4">The sign and seal of <span class="sc">Loeb</span>.</p> + </div> </div> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page8" id="page8"></a>[pg 8]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:650px;"><a href="images/010-1000.png"><img src="images/010-600.png" width="600" height="444" alt="BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND." /></a> + +<h3>BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>The Rescuer.</i> "<span class="sc">I'm not a very graceful diver, you know. What +about employing a professional swimmer for this part of the show?</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A NEWSPAPER SCOOP.</h3> + +<h4>(<i>With the British Army in France.</i>)</h4> + +<p>"I spotted him by the fountain-pen +stains on his vest and the thunderbolts +sticking out of his pockets," said Frederick. +"So I went up to him and said, +'You are Wuffle of <i>The Daily Hooter</i>, +the man who wiped-up Whitehall and is +now engaged in freezing-out France?"</p> + +<p>"What did he say?" asked Percival.</p> + +<p>"Whipped out a note-book and asked +me to tell him all about it. I said I +was pining for the white cliffs of Albion +and that the call of the counting-house +and cash-box was ringing in my ears, +but that I couldn't get demobilised because +the Colonel's pet Pomeranian had +conceived a fancy for me and wouldn't +take its underdone chop from anyone +else. I also hinted that I +and a few friends could +tell him things that would +make his biggest journalistic +scoops look like paragraphs +in a parish magazine, +so he invited me to +bring you round this afternoon +to split an infinitive +with him."</p> + +<p>"Wuffle?" said Binnie. +"That's the man who +wrote about 'gilded subalterns +loafing luxuriously +in cushioned cars in a +giddy round of useless and +pampered ease'?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't say he +wrote it, but he signed it. +No single man living could +write all the stuff Wuffle +signs. It's turned out as +they turn out cheap motor-cars. +One man roughs it +out, passes it to the adjective +department, thence to the punctuation-room, +where they sprinkle it +with commas and exclamation marks, +and then Wuffle touches it up, fits it +with headlines and signs it. Oh, I forgot. +Before it goes to press the libel +expert looks it over to see that it isn't +actionable."</p> + +<p>"Anyway, he's the responsible +party," said Binnie, "and I would fain +have converse with the Wuffle. That +'gilded subaltern' bit was ringing in +my head like a dirge the other night +when I was wearily trudging the seven +kilometres from St. Denis camp because +there was no one to give me a lift."</p> + +<p>That afternoon Frederick introduced +his friends to Wuffle.</p> + +<p>"Sorry we're late," he said, "but +Percival and Binnie here have been +engaged with the Pioneer-Sergeant discussing +the best method of converting +a whippet-tank into a roller for the +tennis-courts."</p> + +<p>At that moment a motor-lorry +rumbled by, and Binnie, recollecting a +passage in Wuffle's latest article about +"motor-lorries rushing madly about +with apparently no purpose in view," +jumped excitedly to the door.</p> + +<p>"'Magneto Maggie' leading," he +shouted, "and 'The Sparking Spitfire' +is just behind. Care to double your +bet on 'Maggie' at evens, Percival?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," replied Percival cautiously. +"It's only the first lap yet, and 'Maggie' +sometimes jibs a bit when she passes +the Remount Depôt."</p> + +<p>Wuffle had his fountain-pen at the +alert and looked inquiringly at Frederick.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it <i>is</i> another example of +deliberate waste," said the latter. "But +we've got the lorries eating their heads +off in the garages and the petrol is +simply aching to be evaporated, so we +give the drivers exercise and ourselves +some excitement over organising these +Area Circuit Steeplechases."</p> + +<p>"Why not trans-ship the lorries?" +suggested Wuffle.</p> + +<p>"That would never do, old prune," +said Frederick. "The troops would +have nothing to guard."</p> + +<p>"Send the men home," persisted +Wuffle.</p> + +<p>"Come, my willowy asparagus," replied +Frederick in horrified tones, "we +must have troops to find us work to do. +Of course it's sometimes difficult to +keep the men employed, and then we +have to make dumps of empty biscuit +tins and things for them to guard."</p> + +<p>"I fixed up a real beauty at Le Glaxo, +not ten kilometres from here," chipped +in Percival. "If you'd like to see it +there's a train going in about twenty +minutes."</p> + +<p>Wuffle jumped up with alacrity.</p> + +<p>"I'd be awfully glad to get a snapshot +of it," said he, disappearing in +search of his hat and coat.</p> + +<p>Frederick took the opportunity to +make a few scathing remarks to Percival.</p> + +<p>"It's just like you, you mouldy old +citron," he said. "I start a little experiment +in <i>tirage de jambe</i>, and you +put your heavy hoof in and spoil the +whole business. You know jolly well +that Le Glaxo was completely closed +down months ago."</p> + +<p>"Oh, put another penny in your +brain-meter and try to realise that you +aren't the only one who's grown up," +replied Percival impatiently. "Your +brain-waves move about as quick as +G.P.O. telegraph messages. I'd got +the scheme worked out while you were +putting over your old musical-comedy +gags."</p> + +<p>Since the departure of +the British, Le Glaxo's +only excitement is the arrival +of its one train per +day. Ignoring the sensation +caused by the detraining +of four persons simultaneously, +Percival led his +party along a muddy rough +lane.</p> + +<p>"The dump is about four +kilometres away and the +road gets rather bad towards +the end," he said, +maliciously edging Wuffle +into a bit of swamp. +"Sorry; I was going to +warn you about that."</p> + +<p>Wuffle scraped mud from +his trousers and followed +the leader over a rough +wall into a hidden ditch. +A breathless climb up a +hill and a steady trudge over plough-land +found Wuffle still game, but, after +he had got his camera ready for action +on the cheerful assurance that they were +nearing their quarry, a disappointed +cry from the leader dashed his hopes.</p> + +<p>"Hang it!" said Percival, "I forgot. +The dump was moved to Pont Antoine +last Tuesday. Come along; it's only +three kilometres away."</p> + +<p>Strangely enough, Pont Antoine was +also a blank. Binnie suggested trying +Monceau, two kilometres further on; +but when they arrived there, fatigued +and dirty, a thin drizzle was falling and +it was almost dark. Percival confessed +himself baffled.</p> + +<p>"I'm awfully sorry," said he to +Wuffle; "I can't find it now, and the +point is how are we going to get back? +There isn't a railway for miles."</p> + +<p>"Don't any of our lorries or cars +pass here?" asked Wuffle.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. But they won't give <i>you</i> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page9" id="page9"></a>[pg 9]</span> +a lift. The orders are dead strict against +civilians riding in W.D. vehicles."</p> + +<p>"It's the result of the articles in the +papers about waste," said Frederick +sympathetically. "But I don't suppose +there would be any objection to +your hanging on and running behind."</p> + +<p>Wuffle looked round disconsolately. +In the gloom the lighted windows of +the tiny Hôtel de l'Univers blinked +invitingly.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll stop here for the night," +he said, "and telephone for a car to +fetch me to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Right-o!" said Percival. "And +when it's thoroughly light you might—you +<i>might</i> be able to find the dump. +So long."</p> + +<p>As they rumbled uncomfortably home +on a fortuitous three-ton lorry, Percival +looked round for applause.</p> + +<p>"<i>C'est bien fait, mon vieux</i>," chuckled +Binnie. "I'll bet the Wuffle won't go +dump-hunting again in a hurry. And +he won't be able to do any damage +from that little estaminet for a day or +two."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The well-advertised series of articles +in <i>The Daily Hooter</i> commenced a few +days later. The conspirators studied +them diligently in gleeful anticipation +of finding their contribution to journalistic +enterprise. It came at the end, +in a brief paragraph.</p> + +<p>"When I had collected my material +for this powerful indictment, etc., etc." +(ran the article), "I met a party of +irresponsible subalterns bent on the old, +old army pastime of leg-pulling. For +the sake of exercise and amusement I +permitted them to conduct me on a wild-goose +chase after an imaginary dump, +which luckily led me to a sequestered +little hotel where I was able to write +my articles in peace and quietude. But +to return to the main question. I unhesitatingly +affirm..."</p> + +<p>Percival, who was reading aloud, let +the paper fall limply from his hand.</p> + +<p>"Frederick," he said, "put your +biggest boots on and kick me. The +word-merchant was laughing at us all +the time."</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/011-1500.png"><img src="images/011-600.png" width="600" height="331" alt="COMMERCIAL CONSCIENTIOUSNESS." /></a> + +<h2>COMMERCIAL CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.</h2> + +<h3>TRAPPING IMITATION ERMINE.</h3></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The letter about the Bloomsbury cat that +bought her own cat's meat in your issue of +December 6th is interesting."</p> + +<p class="author"><i>A Correspondent in "The Spectator."</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>The cat would, however, have shown +more regard for the feelings of our +justly-esteemed contemporary if it had +wrapped up its purchase in some other +publication.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"In his defence, —— said that he had really +intended marrying the girl, but that he came +to the realization that she was extremely +ejaljoujs, hence his bjreach.</p> + +<p>jThe court found that this was sufficient +ground to justify jjjustify jujjjj jstjijfjy +his breach of promise."—<i>Canadian Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>It is evident, however, that the Court +did not arrive at this decision without +considerable hesitation.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>More Headaches for Historians.</h4> + +<blockquote><p> +"The revellers passed the time in dancing +and singing until St. Paul's clock struck midnight. +Then 'Auld Lang Syne' was sung with +enthusiasm and, after repeated cheers, the +crowd dispersed."—<i>Times.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p> +"It was typical of the largest crowd that has +watched round the cathedral the passing of +the year that at the moment when midnight +struck it should be engaged in one tremendous +jostle and push, rough and tumble, and that +no one thought to strike up the tune—traditional +to the occasion—of 'Auld Lang Syne.'"—<i>Star.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p> +"The gigantic Hindenburg figure of Militarism +in the centre of the room melted away +with the appearance of the Peace Angel, reputed +to be the fairest lady in Chelsea, who +had climbed a ladder within his leviathan +bulk."—<i>Times.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p> +"When twelve o'clock struck The God of +War <i>should</i> have collapsed gracefully to give +place to the most beautiful artist's model in +Chelsea, draped as the Goddess of Peace. But +something went wrong with the ropes, and the +God of War floated a yard or two into the air, +just sufficiently high to show us the feet and +knees of the Goddess of Peace."—<i>Evening Standard.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The famous flood-test of the Parisian, the +stone ouave on the Bridge of Alma, is in +water up to his waist."—<i>Provincial Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Surely an understatement. The "ouave" +seems to have had his Z washed away.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>From a <i>feuilleton</i>:—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"James put his cold hands in his pockets +and buttoned up his coat collar before turning +out to his work."—<i>Weekly Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>This is not so easy as it sounds.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page10" id="page10"></a>[pg 10]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:700px;"><a href="images/012-1500.png"><img src="images/012-600.png" width="600" height="414" alt="Teuton (released after internment for the duration...." /></a> +<p><i>Teuton (released after internment for the duration, to old +business friend who is trying to avoid him).</i> <span class="sc">"Well, mine frient, and +where haf you peen hiding yourself the last four or fife years?"</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>WORDS OF WISDOM.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"Come, all you young seamen, take heed now to me,</p> +<p>A hard-case old sailorman bred to the sea,</p> +<p>As sailed the seas over afore you was born,</p> +<p>An' learned 'em by heart from the Hook to the Horn.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"Don't hold by the ratlines when going aloft</p> +<p>(Which I've told you afore but can't tell you too oft),</p> +<p>Or you'll strike one that's rotten as sure as you live,</p> +<p>And it's too late to learn when you've once felt it give;</p> +<p>If you don't hit the bulwarks you'll sure hit the sea,</p> +<p>For them rotten ratlines—they're the devil," says he.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"Now if you should see, as you like enough may,</p> +<p>When tramping the docks for a ship some fine day,</p> +<p>A spanking full-rigger just ready for sea,</p> +<p>And think she's just all that a hooker should be,</p> +<p>Take 'eed you don't ship with a skipper that drinks—</p> +<p>You'd better by half play at fan-tan with Chinks!—</p> +<p>For that'll mean nothing but muddle an' mess,</p> +<p>It may be much more and it can't be much less,</p> +<p>What with wrangling and jangling to drive a man daft,</p> +<p>And rank bad dis-cip-line both forrard and aft,</p> +<p>A ship that's ill-found and a crew out of 'and,</p> +<p>And a touch-and-go chance she may never reach land,</p> +<p>But go down in a squall or broach to in a sea,</p> +<p>For them drunken skippers—they're the devil," says he.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"And if you go further and pause to admire</p> +<p>A ship that's as neat as your heart could desire,</p> +<p>As smart as a frigate aloft and alow,</p> +<p>Her brasswork like gold and her planking like snow,</p> +<p>Look round for a mate by whose twang it is plain</p> +<p>That his home port is somewhere round Boston or Maine,</p> +<p>With a jaw that's the cut of a square block of wood,</p> +<p>And beat it, my son, while the going is good!</p> +<p>There'll be scraping and scouring from morning till night</p> +<p>To keep that brass shiny and keep them decks white,</p> +<p>And belaying-pin soup both for dinner and tea,</p> +<p>For them smart down-easters—they're the devil," says he.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"But if by good fortune you chance for to get</p> +<p>A ship that ain't hungry or wicked or wet,</p> +<p>That answers her hellum both a-weather and lee,</p> +<p>Goes well on a bowline and well running free,</p> +<p>A skipper that's neither a fool nor a brute,</p> +<p>And mates not too free with the toe of their boot,</p> +<p>A sails and a bo'sun that's bred to their trade,</p> +<p>And a slush with a notion how vittles is made,</p> +<p>And a crowd that ain't half of 'em Dagoes or Dutch,</p> +<p>Or Mexican greasers or niggers or such,</p> +<p>You stick to her close as you would to your wife,</p> +<p>She's the sort that you only find once in your life;</p> +<p>And ships is like women, you take it from me,</p> +<p>That, if they <i>are</i> bad 'uns, they're the devil," says he.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i36">C. F. S.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"With regard to prison labour, it is stated that the manufacture of +war stories had continued to employ every available inmate."</p> + +<p class="author"><i>Christian Science Monitor.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We had wondered where some of them came from.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page11" id="page11"></a>[pg 11]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:600px"><a href="images/013-1500.png"><img src="images/013-370.png" width="370" height="456" alt="SOUNDING THE 'ALL CLEAR.'" /></a> + +<h2>SOUNDING THE "ALL CLEAR."</h2> + +<h3 style="font-weight: normal;">WITH GRATEFUL COMPLIMENTS TO THE GALLANT VOLUNTEERS OF THE BRITISH +MINE CLEARANCE FORCE.</h3></div> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page13" id="page13"></a>[pg 13]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/014-1500.png"><img src="images/014-600.png" width="600" height="398" alt="'Hullo, George! And when's the War going to be over, eh?'" /></a> + +<p class="center">"<span class="sc">Hullo, George! And when's the War going to be over, +eh?</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE QUESTIONABLE ALIEN.</h3> + +<p>William, my hitherto unventuresome friend William, is +going abroad. I cannot be certain why. Perhaps he no +longer feels his heroism equal to the strain of living in a +country fit for heroes. It may be that he has unwittingly +incubated a bacillus which figures in novels as the "Call +of the Wild." Anyhow, William is going abroad—so much +so that, if he went any farther, he would be on his way +home again.</p> + +<p>I need not say that I felt called upon to help William +through this trying period, and our preparations proceeded +satisfactorily until the clever geographers who arrange +these things nowadays discovered that William could fetch +the Far East by way of the Far West. Then the international +complications set in. First, William's passport—a +healthy enough document at the start—had to be carried +round the diplomatic quarter of London until it broke out +into a thick rash of supplementary <i>visas</i>. Next we sought +out the moneychangers in their dens, to transmute William's +viaticum bit by bit into four foreign currencies. Then a +Great Power through whose territory William will have to +pass apparently was nervous of his approach and instituted +a grand inquisition into the status and antecedents of the +Alien (William).</p> + +<p>We unfolded the paper on our table and stared at it +aghast. Its area was rather less than a square yard; in +colour it favoured the yolk of bad eggs; while all over its +broad expanse were ruled compartments, half of them filled +with questions that no gentleman would ask another, the +other half left blank for William's indignant replies. We +managed with great difficulty to squeeze into the panel provided +all his baptismal titles—there are four of these besides +"William"—and then attacked the first real poser:—</p> + +<p><i>Are you in possession of 100 dollars, or less? If less, by +how much?</i></p> + +<p>William groaned. "Reach me down Todhunter's Arithmetic, +will you?" said he.</p> + +<p>I did so, and turned up the Money Market page of our +daily paper. Nothing was heard for the next five minutes +but grunts and sighs of despair. We then gave it up on +the understanding that William must make a point of +winning heavily at bridge—or would it be euchre?—on +the way across.</p> + +<p><i>Have you ever been in the territory of the Great Power +before?</i></p> + +<p>"No," breathed William devoutly, "and, please Heaven, +it shan't occur again!"</p> + +<p><i>What is your reason for coming now?</i></p> + +<p>"I suppose I'd better tell the truth," he said; "they'll +never believe me if I say I've come to put <span class="sc">Dempsey</span> up to +that right drive of <span class="sc">Carpentier's</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Were you ever in prison, an almshouse, or an institution for +the treatment of the insane? If so, which?</i></p> + +<p>"Take your time, William," I said; "think carefully."</p> + +<p>He gave a bitter laugh. "Do they want to know <i>all</i> the +gaols and asylums I've been in," he asked, "or only the +more recent?"</p> + +<p><i>Are you a polygamist?</i></p> + +<p>William turned deathly pale. He then fixed me with a +terrible stare of accusation and reproach.</p> + +<p>"No, no, William," I protested frantically, "I assure you +on my honour that <i>I</i> haven't been talking."</p> + +<p>This assurance calmed him somewhat. Bit by bit the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page14" id="page14"></a>[pg 14]</span> +colour came back to his cheeks and at length he was able +to remark more hopefully: "Well, there's this to be said +for it, most of my wives are sportswomen. I don't <i>think</i> +they'll give me away."</p> + +<p><i>Are you an anarchist?</i></p> + +<p>"No," answered William frankly, "but I possess a +brother-in-law who has leanings towards Rosicrucianism. +Next, please."</p> + +<p>The next was a very searching, legally-worded inquiry. +It demanded at great length to be informed whether William +was a person who advocated the overthrow by force or +violence of the Government of the Great Power, or all forms +of Law, or believed in the propriety of assassinating any or +every officer of the Great Power because of his official +character.</p> + +<p>William took up the paper-knife with an expression of +sheer animal ferocity. "Yes," he hissed, "the whole lot. +Torturing them, too!"—and fell back into his chair with +peal upon peal of maniacal laughter.</p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: 1.4em;"> +* + * + * + * + * + * + * +</p> + +<p>William was practically a wreck before the inquisition +came to an end. He had not even sufficient spirit left to +fly at me for entering his distinguishing marks as "a +general air of honesty, tempered by a slight inward squint."</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:600px;"><a href="images/015-1500.png"><img src="images/015-600.png" width="600" height="417" alt="Runner. 'Beautiful scent in cover to-day, Sir.'" /></a> + +<p><i>Runner.</i> "<span class="sc">Beautiful scent in cover to-day, Sir.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Post-War Sportsman.</i> "<span class="sc">Oh—er—is there? I haven't noticed it, but I've +got a cold in my head.</span>"</p> +</div> +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"The Board of Trade have awarded a silver cup to Mr. John +Bruce, D.S.C., skipper of the steam drifter <i>Pansy</i>, of Wick, in recognition +of the promptitude and ability with which he rescued the domestic +servant, Strawberry Bank, Hardgate, pleaded guilty to having +bemusic, stolen a gold safety pin, a fountain pen, two pairs of gloves, +two blouses and several other articles of clothing."—<i>Fishing News.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We never believe these fishing stories.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>SONGS OF THE HOME.</h3> + +<h4>II.—<span class="sc">The Diagnosis.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>When Jimmy, our small but significant son,</p> +<p class="i2">Is prey of a temper capricious and hot,</p> +<p>And tires of a project as soon as begun,</p> +<p class="i2">And wants what he hasn't, and hates what he's got,</p> +<p>A dutiful father, I ponder and brood,</p> +<p class="i2">Essaying by reason and logic to find</p> +<p>The radical cause of the juvenile mood</p> +<p class="i2">In the intricate growth of the juvenile mind.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But women and reason were never allies;</p> +<p class="i2">The rule of a mother is logic of thumb;</p> +<p>The trouble concerns, she is quick to surmise,</p> +<p class="i4">His rum-ti-tiddily-um-ti-tum.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>O woman (though angel in moments of pain,</p> +<p class="i2">When angels of pity are most <i>à propos</i>),</p> +<p>Why, why won't you listen when husbands explain</p> +<p class="i2">The things they have thought and the knowledge they know?</p> +<p>And why do you smile when they beg to repeat?</p> +<p class="i2">And why are you bored when they make it all clear?</p> +<p>And why do you label their emphasis "heat,"</p> +<p class="i2">And bid them "Be careful; the servants may hear"?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The argument leaves me, though ever more sure,</p> +<p class="i2">Reproachful and angry and sullen and dumb:</p> +<p>It leaves her reforming my diet, to cure</p> +<p class="i6"><i>My</i> rum-ti-tiddily-um-ti-tum.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i32"><span class="sc">Henry.</span></p> + </div> </div> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page15" id="page15"></a>[pg 15]</span> + +<hr /> + +<h3>ANIMAL HELPS.</h3> + +<h4>(<i>By a Student of Domestic Economy.</i>)</h4> + +<p>Living in a remote country district, +where the difficulty of obtaining servants +is at present insurmountable—the +nearest "pictures" are twelve miles +off—I have been much impressed and +encouraged by two letters in recent +issues of <i>The Spectator</i>. One describes +a Bloomsbury grocer's cat that bought +her own cat's-meat; another recounts +the exploits of a spaniel belonging to +a house painter and glazier at Yarmouth +(Isle of Wight), which, if given a +penny, would immediately amble off to +a grocer's shop and purchase a cake.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:310px;"><a href="images/016-1000.png"><img src="images/016-460.png" width="310" height="460" alt="Visitor. 'How is Mrs. Brown to-day?'" /></a> + +<p><i>Visitor.</i> "<span class="sc">How is Mrs. Brown to-day?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Maid.</i> "<span class="sc">Well 'm, she ebbs and flows.</span>"</p></div> + +<p>Viewed in their true perspective, +these exhibitions of animal intelligence +seem to indicate fruitful possibilities of +the employment of our dumb friends +to assist us in these trying times. Many +years ago I remember reading of a +baboon which discharged the duties of +a railway porter at a station in Cape +Colony with great efficiency. I have +unfortunately mislaid the reference, but +so far as I can remember no mention +was made of wages or tips; consequently +the importation and employment of +skilled simian labour on a large scale +might go a long way towards reducing +the expenses of our railway system.</p> + +<p>But in view of certain obvious difficulties +it is perhaps better to restrict +our attention to the sphere of domestic +service and farm labour. And here I +would urge with all the power at my +command the employment of the elephant. +The greatest burden of household +work is the washing of plates, and +this is a task which elephants are peculiarly +well fitted to undertake; also the +cleaning of windows without the use +of a ladder. A well-trained and amiable +elephant, again, would enable parents +to dispense with a perambulator. +I admit that the initial outlay might +be considerable, but the longevity of +elephants is notorious, and it would +always be possible to hire them out to +travelling menageries.</p> + +<p>Another neglected asset is the well-known +aptitude shown by poodles for +digging out truffles, an accomplishment +of which I often read in my youth. If +truffles, why not potatoes?</p> + +<p>The extraordinary intelligence and +affectionate disposition of the runner +duck has often been commented on by +our serious weeklies, but so far little +attempt has been made to turn these +qualities to practical account. They +forage for themselves. Why should +they not be taught to do so for their +owners as well?</p> + +<p>One more point and I have done. +Greek and Latin are going or gone, but +a modicum of Mathematics seems to be +indispensable to the modern curriculum. +The domestic pig has on many occasions +shown a capacity for mastering simple +arithmetical processes, and we know +that the pupil always ends by bettering +his master. Under a more enlightened +and humane <i>régime</i> I confidently look +forward to the time when our children +will learn the Rule of Three, not from +highly-paid and incompetent governesses, +but from unsalaried porcine instructors, +trained in the best Montessorian +methods.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Our Plutocratic Sportsmen.</h4> + +<blockquote><p> +"A gold course is being laid out in Ryde +House Park, Isle of Wight."—<i>Sunday Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<h4>The New Rich.</h4> + +<blockquote><p> +"Working Man (36) requires Lodgings, full +or part board; car ride or convenient Rolls-Royce."—<i>Provincial +Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Lady requires gentleman Chauffeur, repair +and clean car; good dancer."—<i>Times.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>One who can "reverse," it is hoped.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Considering the greatness of the provocation, +Centralia, Wash., yesterday showed a +calmness worthy of an American community. +There were no farther attempts at lynching +after the hanging of the secretary of the +I.W.W. organisation on Tuesday night." +<i>American Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>Oh, my friends, let us strive to emulate +the calmness of Centralia, Wash.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page16" id="page16"></a>[pg 16]</span> + +<hr /> + +<h3>A LETTER TO THE BACK-BLOCKS.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Dear Ginger</span>,—A Merry Christmas +to you! A bit late, you say? On the +contrary, in plenty of time. It is next +Christmas I am referring to. Over +there, in your tropical land, when the +sun stings your skin through your shirt +and the sand blisters your feet through +your boot-soles, when you butter your +bread with a soup-ladle and the mercury +boils merrily in the barometer, +then, vainly pawing the air for mosquitoes +with one hand and reaching for +the siphon with the other, you gasp, +"Gad! it must be getting on for Christmas-time."</p> + +<p>But over here in England, where +the seasons wheel round without any +appreciable difference in temperature, +where, if it were not for the gentleman +who writes the calendars, nobody would +know whether to wear straw-hats or +snow-shoes, Christmas comes sneaking +up behind you and grabs you by +the pocket before you have time to +dodge. "Christmas Eve already!" you +exclaim. "Christmas Eve! and there's +dear old Tom in Penang and good old +Dick in Patagonia and poor old Harry +in Princetown, and I've not written a +word of cheer to any of them and now +have no time to do so." That's what +happened to me this year, anyhow; but +I'm determined it shall not occur again, +so—A Merry Christmas to you, Ginger.</p> + +<p>This my first Yule in the Old Country, +after many in foreign climes, was +not an unqualified success. On the +morning of Christmas Eve I went for +a walk and lost myself. After wading +through bog systems and bramble entanglements +for some hours I came out +behind a spinney and there spied a +small urchin with red cheeks and a red +woollen muffler standing beneath a +holly-tree. On sighting me he gave +vent to a loud and piteous howl. I +asked him where his pain was, and he +replied that he wanted some holly for +decorations, but was too short to reach +it. I thereupon swarmed the shrub, +plucked and tossed the richly berried +boughs to the poor little chap. In +return he showed me where I lived—which +indeed was not two hundred +yards distant, but concealed by the +thicket.</p> + +<p>Later in the day Edward came in to +tea, much annoyed. Bolshevism, he +declared, was within our gates. He had +been out to collect Christmas decorations +in his own private fenced spinney, +and confound it if some scoundrels +hadn't been and gone and stripped his +pet holly-tree of every twig! Anarchy +was yapping at the door.</p> + +<p>The Aunt soothed him, saying she +had that very afternoon purchased a +supply of splendid holly from a sweet +little boy who had come round hawking +it at sixpence a bough. I asked her if +by any chance the dear little fellow had +worn a red woollen comforter, and was +not surprised when I heard that he had.</p> + +<p>No sooner had I fallen asleep that +same night than I was aroused by an extraordinary +din. I lay there, comatose +and semi-conscious in the pitchy darkness, +and wondered what had happened. +Presently I distinguished the bray of +trumps, and I knew. "Golly!" I whispered +to myself, "I'm dead. Cheer-o!" +Then I recollected something I had +read concerning ye sports and customs +of ye Ancient British and decided it +must be "Waits." I crept to the +window and by a glow of lanterns +beheld the St. Gwithian Independent +Brass Band grouped round the porch, +blasting "Christians, awake!" through +their brazen fog-horns. I fumbled +about on the dressing-table, missed the +matches but found a half-crown. "Take +that and trot!" I snarled, hurling it at +them with all my strength. The coin +hit the trombone a glancing blow on the +snout, ricochetted off the bassoon and +bounded into the rockery.</p> + +<p>The music stopped abruptly as the +bandsmen swarmed in pursuit of fortune. +In half-an-hour's time they had +pulled all Edward's cherished sedums +and saxifrages up by the roots and +turned over most of the smaller rocks +without discovering the treasure. A +conference in loud idiomatic Cornish +then took place, with the result that two +musicians were despatched to a neighbouring +farm for picks, crow-bars and +more lanterns; the remainder squatted +on the flower-beds and whiled away the +time of waiting by blasting "Good +King Wenceslas" to the patient stars.</p> + +<p>In due course the messengers returned +and the quarrying of the rockery +began in earnest. By 4.15 <span class="sc">a.m.</span> they +had most of it littered over the drive, +but had struck some granite boulders +which defied even the crowbars. A +further conference was then held, but +at this point Edward made a dramatic +appearance, clad in lilac pyjamas, odd +boots and a kimono of the Aunt's, which +he had worn as King Alfred in some +charades the night before, and in the +darkness had donned in mistake for his +dressing-gown. His address was impassioned +and moving, but had no effect +on the Waits, who could only be persuaded +to abandon their silver mine at +the price of a second half-crown.</p> + +<p>A day or so before Christmas I began +to notice that everybody was getting +presents—everybody except me, that +is. This caused me pain. It gave the +impression that I was not appreciated. +I took thought for a space, then rode +into Penzance, bought several articles +I had been wanting for some time, +wrote a few affectionate notes in disguised +handwriting, such as "With +dearest love from Flossie," "With hugs +and kisses from Ermyntrude," etc., +enclosed them with the articles, addressed +and posted them to myself and +rode home again.</p> + +<p>On Christmas morning I opened them +in public with a vast flourish, and left +the touching little dedications lying carelessly +about where anybody could read +them. From the glances of wonder and +respect which flashed at me from all +sides I gathered that everybody did. +The sensation was both novel and pleasing. +One parcel, however, there was +which I had not sent myself. It had +been forwarded on by the "Punch" +Office, marked, "Please do not crush," +and carefully tied and sealed. My heart +leapt. "By Jove!" said I, "a genuine +Christmas present. Somebody loves me +after all. Perhaps a duchess has sent +me her tiara."</p> + +<p>With trembling fingers I unlaced the +strings. The household crowded about +me, panting with envy and excitement. +Reverently I folded the multitudinous +wrappings back and revealed a very old, +very dilapidated silk slipper, severely +busted at the toe and stuffed with sticky +sweets, a small female doll, and a note—"With +all best wishes to <span class="sc">Patlander</span> +for a happy Christmas, and many thanks +for useful hints contained in <i>Punch</i> +issue, December 10th, 1919."</p> + +<p>I may remind you that in the issue +mentioned was an epistle from me to +you recommending the Post as a means +of disposing of rubbish, with special +reference to worn-out foot-gear. I only +wish I knew who played this trick on +me, Ginger; I would like to give him +something in return—say an old footer-boot—with +my foot inside.</p> + + +<p class="right">Thine in sorrow,</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Patlander</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>New Golfing Records.</h4> + +<blockquote><p> +"Mr. —— then holed his fourth for a +three."—<i>Sunday Paper.</i></p> + +<p>"—— played very fine golf on the outward +journey and stood 5 up at the second hole."</p> + +<p class="right1"><i>Evening Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>We suppose that in each case the +player's opponent wasn't looking.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>From a sale catalogue:—</h4> + +<blockquote><p> +"Pretty Light Grey Georgette Jumper, +trimmed Grey Wool and Saxe Blue.</p> + +<p>Usually 5 gns. 6½ gns." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>No wonder they call it a jumper.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> + "ST. ——'S CHURCH.<br /> + 6.30 p.m.—Preacher: The Vicar.<br /> +7.45 p.m.—Bach's Church Cantata,<br /> + 'Sleepers, Wake.'"</p></blockquote> + +<p class="ind"><i>Provincial Paper.</i></p> + + +<p>We suspect the organist of being a bit +of a wag.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page17" id="page17"></a>[pg 17]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/018-1500.png"><img src="images/018-600.png" width="600" height="432" alt="Slightly deaf Footman (announcing each guest in character) 'Mr. Jones--the Last of the Bandies.'" /></a> +<p class="center"> +<i>Slightly deaf Footman (announcing each guest in character).</i> +"<span class="sc">Mr. Jones—the Last of the Bandies.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE WHAT-NOT.</h3> + +<p>"Look here," I said, "this is indeed +serious. The what-not's moulting."</p> + +<p>"It's been like that for a long time," +said Anna. "But I suppose it's getting +worse."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so. And we <i>must</i> have +something reliable," I said, "to stand +dishes and things on at meals. We +can't pile them all on the table at once +like a cairn. To tell you the truth," I +added, "I've had my eye on an old +oak dresser at Smalley's for a long time. +It would be a good investment—at a +price."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Anna; "but I suppose +the price would be the earth and the +fulness thereof."</p> + +<p>"That is precisely what I propose to +find out, and if they'll take anything +less than thirty pounds it's ours. In +the meantime," I added, "we'll dope +the poor old what-not with furniture +cream and see about driving it to +market."</p> + +<p>There are two accepted methods of +dealing at old furniture shops. The +first is to approach them, well-groomed, +be-ringed and perfumed, smoking a +jewelled gasper and entering the shop +with a circular movement of the arm +to expose the gold wrist-watch that +<i>will</i> crawl up the sleeve at wrong moments, +and to ask in a commanding +voice, "How much is the—ah—oak-dresser—what?"</p> + +<p>The presiding genius (and being a +dealer he is usually a genius), who had +really ticketed the article thirty pounds, +approaches it, removes the ticket by a +little sleight-of-hand and says, "Thirty-eight +guineas, Sir," without a blush +(the dealer who blushes is hounded from +the ring). This method of dealing is +direct action of the most dangerous +kind.</p> + +<p>The other method, and the one I +most usually adopt, I can best illustrate +by detailing my interview with the +proprietor of Smalley's on the occasion +when I went dressering.</p> + +<p>I sidled into the shop in garments +carefully selected from my pre-wardrobe +and wearing a vacant expression. +Picking up a piece of china I examined +it carefully, turning it upside down, as +though to search for a pottery mark, +which I probably should never have +recognised.</p> + +<p>"H'm, not bad," I said.</p> + +<p>"One of the best bits of Dresden +I've ever had," said the dealer. "I +want——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, German," I said, putting the +thing down hurriedly as though it +might be mined. "It may be a good +piece, but—what is the price of that +brass fender?"</p> + +<p>"Seven-ten, old Dutch and a bargain," +said the dealer laconically.</p> + +<p>"But probably wouldn't fit the fireplace +in my mind. Though," I added +to myself, "it might fit the one in our +dining-room."</p> + +<p>I thought it about time to notice the +dresser, not to attempt to buy it yet—oh +dear no, but merely to fire the first +shot in the campaign as it were.</p> + +<p>"What kind of a dresser do you call +this?" I said. "Slightly moth-eaten, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"That's nothing; merely age. It's +Welsh," he added, "and a beauty. I +wish I could get hold of more like it. +Look at those legs; I'll guarantee you +won't——Excuse me, Sir."</p> + +<p>An immaculately dressed individual +had entered the shop, and the gentleman +trading as Smalley called an assistant +to serve him. By the time he +returned to me I had wandered far into +the recesses of the emporium and was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page18" id="page18"></a>[pg 18]</span> +busily examining a walnut stool with a +woolwork seat.</p> + +<p>"You haven't one like this in oak, I +suppose? This one," I said, "would +hardly suite my suit. That sounds +wrong, but you apprehend my meaning."</p> + +<p>"I haven't," he said simply. I could +see that he was tiring rapidly, but +wasn't absolutely ripe for plucking.</p> + +<p>So I priced about a dozen pieces of +china, admired several pictures and +pieces of Stuart needlework, descanted +on the beauties of a set of wheatear +chairs, pulled a small rosewood table +about until its claw and ball feet nearly +dropped off from exhaustion, and finally +led him back to the Welsh dresser.</p> + +<p>"What's the price of +the Scotsman?" I said +easily, having seen thirty +guineas on the ticket +during the preliminary +examination.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-nine pounds +to you," he said wearily. +He evidently knew the +strict rules of the game.</p> + +<p>"But look at those +legs," I said. "They're +frightfully bent, aren't +they?"</p> + +<p>"That's one of the +best features about it," +he said. "Real Queen +Anne, those legs are."</p> + +<p>"Oh, were hers like +that? I didn't know," +I said. "Look here, I'll +give you twenty-eight +pounds, spot cash."</p> + +<p>"Very well," he said. +"I like to do business."</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon," said a +voice behind me, which, +in turning, I discovered +to belong to the assistant, "but that +dresser's sold. The gentleman who's +just left bought it."</p> + +<p>As I was looking for the ticket (which +had disappeared), I couldn't help overhearing +the assistant's aside to his +employer.</p> + +<p>"Thirty-five guineas cash," he said.</p> + +<p>There is something, after all, to be +said for direct action.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>"OLD FOLKS' TEA.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +On the day of the party the Chief Constable +has arranged for a staff of Special Constables +to escort home any person requiring assistance."—<i>Provincial +Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>This bears out what has recently appeared +about the terrible results of the +tea-drinking habit.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"<span class="sc">Wanted.</span>—Skates and Boots for Leghorn +Pullets."—<i>Advt. in Canadian Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>They need a lot of exercise in the cold +weather.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>AT THE PLAY.</h3> + +<h4><span class="sc">"Cinderella."</span></h4> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:300px;"><a href="images/019-1000.png"><img src="images/019-300.png" width="300" height="240" alt="A HORSE-SENSE OF HUMOUR." /></a> + +<h4>A HORSE-SENSE OF HUMOUR.</h4> + +<table summary="cast" align="left" border="0"> +<tr><td class="main"><i>Pipchin</i></td> <td class="main">Mr. <span class="sc">Stanley Lupino.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="main"><i>Baroness Beauxchamps</i></td> <td class="main">Mr. <span class="sc">Will Evans.</span></td></tr> +</table> + +</div> + +<p>It is a very delicate task that the +annual pantomime imposes upon Mr. +<span class="sc">Arthur Collins</span>. He has to "surpass +himself," but he must not do it once for +all or he would rob the critics of their +most cherished phrase. He reminds +me of the constructors of our Atlantic +"greyhounds," each longer by a yard or +two than the last, each swifter by a +fraction of a knot, each with a few more +tons displacement, all pronounced to +be the final word in scientific invention, +yet all reserving something for the next +time.</p> + +<p>Certainly the present year marks an +advance in one respect at least—that +the grotesque and the beautiful are kept +reasonably apart; the lovely colour-scheme, +for instance, of the garden in +Fairyland is undisturbed by any element +of buffoonery. There was a revival too +of topical allusiveness after the reticence +proper to war-time; and the <span class="sc">Geddes</span> +family must be justifiably flattered by +their admission to a choric refrain.</p> + +<p>The humour, of which Mr. <span class="sc">Stanley +Lupino</span> bore the brunt, was here and +there a little thin, and it is time that +somebody let the Management of Drury +Lane into the open secret that the pun, +as an instrument of mirth, has long been +a portion of the dreadful past. Mr.<span class="sc">Will +Evans</span>, as the <i>Baroness Beauxchamps</i>, +seldom let himself go, being no doubt +held in restraint by a consciousness of +his resemblance to Miss <span class="sc">Ellen Terry</span>. +Not enough chance was given to Miss +<span class="sc">Lily Long</span> (the <i>Elder Sister</i>), who has +a very nice sense of fun. As for Mr. +<span class="sc">Claff</span>, who played the operatic <i>Baron</i>, +his most humorous moment was when +he meant to be most serious. This was +in a song in praise of <i>Prince Charming</i>, +"featuring" H.R.H. in a portrait curiously +unlike the original.</p> + +<p>The two most effective incidents were +borrowed from the Circus and the Halls. +Mr. <span class="sc">Du Calion</span>, who had no other very +obvious claims to play the part of a +humorous courtier, did his famous +ladder-feat—a perfectly gratuitous performance, +for, though he was supposed +to be rescuing <i>Cinderella</i> through a top-storey +window, she had the good sense +to descend by the staircase, having ignored, +as is the way of Love, the locked +door that made this impossible.</p> + +<p>The other imported +business was the work of +a black horse, who preserved +an expression of +extreme gravity and detached +boredom during +the play of human wit +around his person, dissimulating +his own superior +gifts of humour +until called upon to illustrate +them with some excellent +circus-tricks.</p> + +<p>On the sentimental side, +Miss <span class="sc">Marie Blanche</span>, +obedient to the inexorable +tradition that a +young hero of pantomime +must be a woman, played +<i>Prince Charming</i> with +the right manners that +makyth man; and as <i>Cinderella</i> +Miss <span class="sc">Florence +Smithson</span> once more +breathed that air of innocence +which still remains +unstaled by years of steady addiction +to the heroine habit. Her vocal intrusions, +always well received, were not +always well timed; certainly it was an +error of judgment to insert a solo at +the cross-roads after she had told us +that she hadn't a moment to spare if +she was to get home from the ball +before the rest of the family. But here +again it was a matter of obedience to +some unwritten and inscrutable law of +pantomime which it is not for us, the +profane, to question.</p> + +<p>And in this spirit I tender a grateful +acknowledgment not only of the good +things that my intelligence could appreciate +in this lavish entertainment, +but also of the other things that I can +never hope to understand.</p> + + +<p class="author">O. S.</p> + + +<hr /> + +<h4>Commercial Candour.</h4> + +<p> +"Good Boots . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25/-<br /> + No Better . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37/6." +</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page19" id="page19"></a>[pg 19]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:700px;"><a href="images/020-1500.png"><img src="images/020-600.png" width="600" height="370" alt="Speaker (endeavouring to cultivate a patriotic spirit in the young). 'And now, children,...'" /></a> + +<p><i>Speaker (endeavouring to cultivate a patriotic spirit in the +young).</i> "<span class="sc">And now, children, if you saw our glorious flag waving +triumphantly over the battle-field, what would you think?</span> (<i>Prolonged +pause</i>) <span class="sc">Come, come, what would you —— Well, +my little man, what would you think?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Small Boy.</i> "<span class="sc">Please, Zur, the wind were blowin'.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h3> + +<h4>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.</i>)</h4> + +<p>"I remember, I remember...." Still on every side echoes +the poet's cry, while scarce a publisher but can prove that +the thoughts of age make long, long books. Certainly not +the shortest of these, but among the most readable, is +<i>A Medley of Memories</i> (<span class="sc">Arnold</span>), in which the Right Rev. +Sir <span class="sc">David Hunter-Blair</span> has embodied the recollections +of his very active career as Benedictine monk and a leading +figure in the world of British Catholicism. Eton, Oxford, +Rome, and (of course) his own famous monastery at Fort +Augustus, are the chief scenes of it; and about them all +Sir <span class="sc">David</span> talks vividly, even brilliantly. I am not saying +that all this pleasant garrulity would not have been the +better for the blue pencil, especially in those chapters in +which the writer's memory dwells almost to excess upon +the births, marriages, deaths and dinner-parties of the +orthodox Peerage. Elsewhere, however, Sir <span class="sc">David</span> finds +occasion in plenty for the exercise of a wit so dextrously +handled that often his thrust is delivered before you have +realized that the rapier has left its sheath. I had marked a +score of examples for quotation (and now have space for +none) and twice as many good stories. In the Oxford +recollections it was pleasant to renew my own lively +memories of a certain notorious lecture by Mr. <span class="sc">Walter +Walsh</span> on Ritualistic Societies, when violence was +narrowly averted by the tactful chairmanship of the +present <span class="sc">Lord Chancellor</span>—a lecture from which (as +Mr. <span class="sc">Belloc</span> observed at the time) "each member of the +large audience departed confirmed and strengthened in +whatever convictions he might previously have entertained." +I sincerely hope that Sir <span class="sc">David</span> has yet in store for us those +latter-day gleanings which he has been compelled to dismiss +for the present as being too recent for print.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">G. B. Stern</span> has set himself to study with sympathy +and a candour which extenuates nothing the Jew in England +in the circumstances of war, and in particular the Jew of +German origin completely loyal to the country of his +adoption, but suspected and persecuted by such simple folk +(and journals) as are content to put their faith in equally +simple proverbs about leopards and spots. I suppose if +<i>Children of No Man's Land</i> (<span class="sc">Duckworth</span>) has a hero and +heroine you will find them in <i>Richard Marcus</i> and his sister +<i>Deborah</i>. Young <i>Richard</i>, passionately English, with all +the simple unquestioning loyalty of the public-school boy, +counts the months to the day when he can testify to this by +bearing arms in his country's defence, but finds nothing open +but internment or (by much wangling) a possible niche in +a Labour battalion. <i>Deborah's</i> adventures are chiefly of +the heart, or what passes for the heart with a common type +of modern girl anxious to wring every sensation out of life +that playing with fire can give. It does not do to betray +one's age by expressing too confidently the idea that much +of all the goings-on of <i>Deborah</i> and her friends <i>Gillian</i> and +<i>Antonia</i> seems impossible. Mr. <span class="sc">Stern</span> certainly writes as +if he knew what he was writing about, and there is so rich an +exuberance in the way he crowds his canvas, and so much +humour expressed and repressed in his point of view, that I +found this a distinctly entertaining and instructive book.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>Living Bayonets: A Record of the Last Push</i> (<span class="sc">Lane</span>) is +a fourth of the enthusiastic and fiery war-books of that +eminently enthusiastic and inextinguishably fiery warrior-author, +Lieutenant <span class="sc">Coningsby Dawson</span>, of the Canadian +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page20" id="page20"></a>[pg 20]</span> +Field Artillery. If he evinces, blatantly at times, the motives +and perspective of the propagandist, he is justified by +the fact that he most ardently practised the Hun hatred +which he preaches. He states that he enjoyed the dangers +and discomforts of so doing, and his assertion is proved to be +a true one by his having returned again and again to the +fray, notwithstanding every excuse and temptation to leave +it. The book follows on after his <i>Khaki Courage</i>, and is +also in the form of letters to his people at home. It takes +up the narrative at April 14th, 1917, and carries it to the +triumphant end. When, by reason of his wounds, he had +to leave the Front and work in London and elsewhere, he +naturally lost touch with the real business of the battle; +even after his return to the Front in April, 1918, his letters +lack their original sense of actuality, and I, reading them, +began to wonder if he was ever going to recover his former +style. Happily he does so, and with his letter of July 11th +he gives a striking +picture of a terrible +incident of war, of +which I don't remember +to have read +before, but, as I read +it now, I seem to be +witnessing it myself. +From this point on he +steadily develops his +best, so that he ends +on a fitting climax to +all his writings of the +War in his long final +letter of October 6th—propaganda +unashamed. +The book +should be thrust under +the noses of those +pacifists who now +labour to minimise +the past and to magnify +the virtue and +the value of their personal +loving-kindness.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It has ever been my +misfortune that the +presence in a story of +two characters confusably +alike, or a setting +within drowning distance of a tide-race, will produce in me +an almost insuperable sense of its having been "made on +purpose." I had therefore a double stroke of bad luck in finding +both these elements present in <i>The Splendid Fairing</i> +(<span class="sc">Mills and Boon</span>). But the more credit to Miss <span class="sc">Constance +Holme</span> that, despite my increasing conviction that the +wrong prodigal would return, and that the powers of nature +were throughout almost visibly preparing to engulf him, +the gentle and unforced power of her story did hold my +attention till the final wave. Distinction shown in apparent +absence of effort would, I think, be my verdict on her +writing; she clearly knows her Northern farmer-folk with +the sympathy of intimate experience. I hope I have not +already suggested too much of the plot, a little tragedy of +the commonplace dealing with the relations between two +farming brothers, of whom the younger prospers while the +elder fails, and the life-long jealousies of their women. +Miss <span class="sc">Holme</span> works, one may say, on a minute scale; the +short but simple annals of the poor interest her to the extent +of providing an entire volume of three hundred odd +pages from the events of a single day. But though now +and then the old Northern counsel to "get eendways wi' +it" does hover in the background of one's mind I repeat +that sincerity carries the thing through. For all that, however, +<i>The Splendid Fairing</i> did but confirm me in a previous +impression that these Mary-call-the-cattle-home localities +must remain more convenient to the local colourist than +attractive to the inhabitants.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The publication, as a foreword, of a "Glossary of Native +Words" used in the text made me wonder whether I +should be bored or instructed, or both, by <i>The Death Drum</i> +(<span class="sc">Hurst and Blackett</span>). Most happily I was neither. +Miss <span class="sc">Margaret Peterson</span> has built her novel, perhaps a +trifle hastily, about a quite uncommon theme and given it, +in Uganda, a quite uncommon setting. It is the story of +a half-caste who marries a white girl in order to avenge, +in her degradation, his sister whom the English girl's +brother had betrayed. +I must not say that +<i>Tom Davis</i>, the half-caste, +is too much a +white man—for Miss +<span class="sc">Peterson</span>, to do her +justice, has distributed +goodness and badness +among her blacks and +whites with a quite +impartial hand—but +he is too fine a fellow +to carry out his own +plan, and, before he +has done any lasting +harm to the girl he +has come to love, he +takes himself, by way +of a native rising, to +a lotus-covered lake, +and so out of her life. +It seems a pity that +the happiness of the +story's end couldn't +include <i>Tom</i>, but his +ancestry effectually +barred the way, and +Miss <span class="sc">Peterson</span> has +had to rely upon a +very strong and not +quite silent Englishman +of the best type for her satisfactory finish.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Few authors have a shrewder idea than Mr. <span class="sc">P. G. Wodehouse</span> +of what the British and American public want in +the way of humour, and I do not know anyone more determined +to supply their requirements. He would be a dull +fellow indeed who did not appreciate the high spirits and +humorous situations to be found in <i>A Damsel in Distress</i> +(<span class="sc">Jenkins</span>). It is no small feat to maintain a riot of irresponsible +fun for more than three hundred pages, but Mr. +<span class="sc">Wodehouse</span> gets going at once, and keeps up the pace to +the end without even a pause to get his second wind. If +some of the characters—a ridiculous peer, his more ridiculous +sister and his most ridiculous butler—are of the "stock" +variety, Mr. <span class="sc">Wodehouse's</span> way of treating them is always +fresh and amusing. But in his next frolic I beseech him to +give golf and its tiresome lingo a complete rest.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:700px;"><a href="images/021-1000.png"><img src="images/021-600.png" width="600" height="466" alt="Customer. 'May I look at that twelve-guinea suit in the window?'" /></a> +<p> +Customer. "<span class="sc">May I look at that twelve-guinea suit in +the window?</span> (<i>Catching +sight of ticket</i>) <span class="sc">Good gracious! It's twelve pounds thirteen now.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Tailor.</i> "<span class="sc">Yessir—a bright little notion of ours, if I may say so. A +ticker attached, like those things in the taxicabs, to keep the price +up-to-date.</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"Straying.—Wm. ——, for allowing three houses to stray on the +highway, was fined 20s."—<i>Local Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p>In these days landlords cannot be too careful.</p> + + +<hr class="full" /> + +<table align="center" summary="note" style="margin-top: 5em;"> +<tr><td class="note"> +<h4>Transcriber's Note:</h4> + +<p>The correction is indicated by a dotted line under the correction.</p> +<p style="margin-top:-1em;">Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> + + +</td></tr></table> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +CLVIII, January 7, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH-CHARIVARI, JANUARY 7, 1920 *** + +***** This file should be named 30593-h.htm or 30593-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/5/9/30593/ + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Jonathan Ingram 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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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. CLVIII, January 7, 1920 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Owen Seaman + +Release Date: December 3, 2009 [EBook #30593] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH-CHARIVARI, JANUARY 7, 1920 *** + + + + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Jonathan Ingram and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOLUME 158, JANUARY 7, 1920 + +[Illustration: Punch. Vol. CLVIII.] + + LONDON: + PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICE, 10, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C.4. + 1920. + + + Bradbury, Agnew & Co., Ltd., + Printers, + Whitefriars, London, E.C.4. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: VOLUME CLVIII.] + + * * * * * + +NEW WELLS FOR OLD. + +Over the top of Part II. of _The Outline of History_ I caught the +smiling glance of the man in the opposite corner of the compartment. + +"Good stuff that," he said, indicating the History with a jerk of his +head. + +"Quite," I agreed, maintaining my distance. + +"Immense," he continued. "And it means the dawn of a new life for +me. I'm WELLS'S hero. Every time I've appeared in his half-yearly +masterpiece, ever since _Tono Bungay_. And look at the mess he's made +of my life. Often I've had to start it under the cloud of mysterious +parentage. Invariably I have been endowed with a Mind (capital M). +Think of those uphill fights of mine against adverse conditions. +And my unhappy marriages. He has led me into every variation of +infidelity. When I _did_ hit it off with my wife for once, he sent us +to the Arctic regions as a punishment. In the depth of winter, too. + +But, now he's taken up this History, I'm free. The dam has burst and +strange things come floating down ..." + +He sprang to his feet in his excitement. He was wearing a +loose-fitting suit and what his master might call a lower middle-class +hat. + +"And now I'm going to do all the things I've always wanted to do. A +happy marriage; well-ordered life in the suburbs; warm slippers in the +fender, and all that that stands for; kinemas, perhaps, and bowls. An +allotment ..." + +"But," I objected, "this History won't occupy him for ever. There +should be only about sixteen more parts. He'll have you out again next +autumn." + +"But WELLS is getting the Suburban idea too." He was standing right +over me, glaring horribly with excitement. The train had entered a +tunnel and he was shouting bravely against the din. "Look in Part +I. He acknowledges the help he has received from Mrs. WELLS. And her +watchful criticism. That from _him_! I tell you I am free--free!" + +He was shaking me by the shoulders now, his face close to mine. "I +shall have my allotment. Prize parsnips--giant marrows!" + +"Don't be too sure," I yelled--the tunnel seemed endless. "Remember +poor old _Sherlock_. DOYLE raised _him_ from the dead. And you"--my +voice rising to a scream--"he'll have you out--out--OUT!" + + * * * * * + +As I came to I heard my dentist remark to the doctor that I always had +been a bad patient under gas. + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH ON SILK STOCKINGS. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Your article about Christmas presents was a great +success. I took your advice about the silk stockings, and sent the +following verses with them, which some of your married readers may +care to cut out and keep for future use:-- + + Your stockings once, on Christmas Eve, + Would hang, your cot adorning, + And Father Christmas, we believe, + Would fill them ere the morning; + But since he spied your dainty toes + To exchange the parts he's willing: + He thinks it's his to send the hose + And yours to find the filling. + He lays his offerings at your feet + And hopes you won't deride them, + For he has nothing half so neat + As you to put inside them. + +There! I can only repeat that the results were excellent, and express +my gratitude to you for the same. + + Yours obediently, + GRATEFUL HUSBAND. + +P.S.--The ties I got this time were quite all right; she too must have +read your article. + + * * * * * + +NATURE AND ART. + +_To Betty, who can afford to defy the laws of symmetry._ + + [Being reflections on the old theory, recently developed + before the Hellenic Society by Mr. JAY HAMBRIDGE, that certain + formulae of proportions found in nature--notably in the normal + ratio between a man's height and the span of his outstretched + arms (2: [**square root] 5)--constituted the basis of symmetry + in the art of the Greeks and, earlier, of the Egyptians.] + + Betty, I fear you don't conform + Precisely to the female norm + From dainty foot to charming noddle, + But, closely measured, span by span, + Seem built upon a private plan + Not found in ANNIE KELLERMAN + Or in the well-known Melos model. + + If you compare your width and height-- + Arms horizontal, left and right-- + With ancient types of pure perfection, + The ratio may not, it's true, + Be as the root of 5 to 2, + But what, my dear, has that to do + With laws of natural selection? + + Let Mr. HAMBRIDGE to your shape + Apply his T-square and his tape, + And wish that you were more archaic; + Why should I care? I love you best + For what no compasses can test, + For graces not to be expressed + In terms however algebraic. + + I love you for the lips and eyes + That none may hope to standardize + On any system known to Hellas; + And what I like about your smile + Has no relation to the style + Of any pyramid of Nile + Figured by mathematic fellahs. + + Though your proportions mayn't agree + With FECHNER'S pedant formulae, + I don't complain of such disparity; + Too flawless that perfection shows; + For me a larger comfort flows + From human failings (take your nose-- + I like its quaint irregularity). + + Indeed I love you best of all + For those defects by which you fall + Short of the pattern you should follow; + As I would fain be loved for mine, + Speaking as one whose own design + Lacks something of the perfect line + Affected by the young Apollo. + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +HOW TO GAIN A JOURNALISTIC POSITION. + +Young aspirants are always endeavouring to secure posts on our leading +newspapers, and complain bitterly that their letters of application +are ignored by obtuse editors. To help them in this sad ambition Mr. +Punch has composed a series of letters to divers editors which he +guarantees will prove eminently satisfactory. + +_To the Editor of "The Daily News."_ + +SIR,--I regard the insufferable LLOYD GEORGE as the most dangerous, +the most malignant, the most incompetent politician who has ever +attempted to misrule this country. The iniquity of the Coalition will +make enlightened rulers like LENIN and TROTSKY blush for the human +race. I feel with you that till the real Liberal party returns to +power England will never know peace and prosperity. Then and then only +will brotherly friendship between England and Germany be renewed. Then +and then only shall we see cheap milk, cheap coal, abundant housing, +the Free Breakfast Table and the Large Cocoa Cup. To show my devotion +to the cause you so nobly advocate I may say that I have actually +read every article contributed by Mr. MASTERMAN to your paper. I am +strongly in favour of an _entente_ with Labour, by which Labour should +agree not to contest any seats where the true Asquithians stand a +chance. I enclose as a specimen of my work the first of a series +of articles on "How LLOYD GEORGE lost the War," which I am sure +will be invaluable at by-elections. + +_To the Editor of "The Daily Mail."_ + +SIR,--I am young and, if possible, growing younger daily. My motto +is "Hustle and Bustle" and not "Dilly and Dally." I live on standard +bread, in a wooden hut embowered, when feasible, with sweet peas. My +ear is always close to the ground, and I can confidently predict what +the man in the street will be thinking about the day after tomorrow. +Politically, I am opposed to the Wastrels, the Wee Frees and the +Bolsheviks, and am not prepared as yet to back Labour unreservedly. +I can express myself brightly and briefly on any topical subject. +Herewith I send specimen articles (length three hundred words) +on "Poker Bridge," "Are we having Wetter Washdays?" and "The +Woggle-Wiggle Dance." Should there be no vacancy on your staff +I should be prepared to accept one on any other of your +publications--_The Weekly Dispatch_, _The Times_ or _The Rainbow_. + +_To the Editor of "The Manchester Guardian."_ + +SIR,--I was a Conscientious Objector during the War. I conscientiously +object to everything still, including the Peace Treaty. I speak and +write fifteen languages and dialects, including Oxford English. I have +a comprehensive knowledge of social and political life in Continental +Europe, Asia, Africa, America and Polynesia. I have also resided +in England. I have a deep conviction that under all conditions, +everywhere and at all times, England is invariably and absolutely +in the wrong. In home politics I am resolutely opposed to all the +Coalition has done, is doing or will do. It is my firm opinion that +the actions of England would become less deplorable, less criminal if +Mr. ASQUITH returned to power. I enclose as specimens of my mentality +two intensely human articles which I doubt not will find a home in +your columns: "Proportional Representation in Jugo-Slavia" (length +four thousand five hundred words) and "Futurism under TROTSKY" (length +five thousand words). + +_To the Editor of "The Spectator."_ + +SIR,--In offering my services to you I may point out how happily my +up-bringing and mental training have fitted me for a post on your +staff. The child of an Archdeacon (who was also honorary chaplain to a +rifle club), I was born in a house with earth-filled walls and brought +up in intimate association with a large number of most intelligent +animals. If desired I am prepared to relate anecdotes of the family +bull-dog and a pet she-goat which will verify my description. I feel +with you that England can only be saved by relying on a Free-Trading, +Non-Socialist, Church Establishment. I loathe alike Mr. ASQUITH and +Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, and think that the intellect of England, which +blossoms so luxuriously in country rectories and deaneries, finds +its best expression in Lord HUGH CECIL. As a specimen of my literary +ability I enclose a middle article on "The Sense of Obligation in +Tom-Cats." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A "POSITIVELY LAST" APPEARANCE. + +MR. PUNCH. "ACCEPT THIS POOR TRIBUTE IN RECOGNITION OF MUCH GOOD +ENTERTAINMENT IN THE PAST. I DON'T KNOW WHAT MY ARTISTS WOULD HAVE +DONE WITHOUT YOU." + +[The recent withdrawal of horsed cabs from certain ranks in the London +district foreshadows the final extinction of this venerable type.]] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Club Grouser._ "WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS?" + +_Waiter._ "THAT'S GAME PIE, SIR." + +_Club Grouser._ "UMPH! THINK I MUST HAVE GOT A BIT OF THE FOOTBALL."] + + * * * * * + +CHARIVARIA. + +It is rumoured that Professor PORTA has sent a message to Mr. LLOYD +GEORGE, wishing him a Happy New World. + +* * * + +Mr. Justice ROWLATT has decided that photography is not a profession. +With some actresses, of course, it is just a disease. + +* * * + +The gentleman who drew 1920 in a fifty-pound sweepstake as the date +of the ex-Kaiser's trial is now prepared to sell his chance for +sixpence-halfpenny. + +* * * + +"He is not a politician," says Mr. R. HARCOURT in _The Times_, +referring to Sir AUCKLAND GEDDES. It will be interesting to see how +Sir AUCKLAND accepts this compliment. + +* * * + +A letter posted at Hull for Odessa in July, 1914, has just been +returned to the sender. The postal authorities are thought to take the +view that the sender should be given an opportunity of adding a few +seasonable observations to his previous remarks. + +* * * + +It is all nonsense to say that there can be no change in the present +high prices. They can always go higher. + +* * * + +Owing to the strike of cabmen in Glasgow a number of people had to +walk home on New Year's Eve. It is not said how the others got home, +but we have made a guess. + +* * * + +On enquiry about the erection of huge new premises in the Strand by +the American Bush Terminal Company, we gather that London is not to be +removed, but will be allowed to remain next door. + +* * * + +Inspector MOSS of the Great Eastern Railway Police has just had his +pocket picked and thirty pounds stolen. It is only fair to say that +he was in plain clothes and the thief did not know he was a police +officer. + +* * * + +A history of the Ministry of Munitions is to be compiled at a cost +of L9,648. To keep the expense down to this modest sum by economy in +printing Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL will be referred to throughout as "X." + +* * * + +A man has been charged with damaging a London omnibus. He pleaded that +the vehicle pushed him first. + +* * * + +Mrs. PAYNE, the only woman mouse-trap-maker in London, has retired +from the business. It is said that a number of mice hope to arrange a +farewell cheese. + +* * * + +At a recent meeting of the Peace Conference it was decided that +the troubles in Egypt and India should in future be referred to as +Honorary Wars. + +* * * + +The Indians much appreciate CHARLIE CHAPLIN, says _The Weekly +Dispatch_. We felt confident that this film comedian would come into +his own some day. + +* * * + +Only two minor railway accidents were reported in December, but a +South Coast train which started that month is reported to have run +into the New Year. + +* * * + +It is estimated that _The Outline of History_ by Mr. H. G. WELLS +will be concluded this year. It would be a pleasing compliment to the +author if at the end of that time Parliament made it illegal for any +more history to happen. + +* * * + +The Thames angler who was asked in the Club at night if he had had any +luck that day, and replied that he had not had a bite, is thought to +be an impostor. + +* * * + +An Insurance official states that thin people live longer than stout. +This is probably due to the fact that when thin people stand sideways +the motor-car doesn't get a real chance. + +* * * + +"It is just twenty months since we experienced the last hostile +air-raid," states an evening paper. Should this indiscreet statement +reach the ears of certain Government Officials it is feared that one +or two of our picturesque anti-aircraft stations may be dismantled. + +* * * + +According to an American paper, a lawyer has left New York for Mexico, +in order to try to explain to the inhabitants the meaning of Peace +and the benefits to be derived from joining the League of Nations. We +understand he has made full arrangements for leaving a widow and two +young children. + +* * * + +Our heart goes out to the tenant of an experimental paper-house who +discovered, on going up-stairs, that his two-year-old son in a fit of +ungovernable passion had torn up his nursery. + +* * * + +A man has written to _The Daily Mail_ advocating the alteration of +the calendar to thirteen months of twenty-eight days each, _with two +Christmas Days in Leap Year_. The writer--to do him justice--did not +sign himself "Paterfamilias." + +* * * + +The New Poor Dance Club, which has opened in the West End, is having +its vicissitudes. Last week, it is reported, a distinguished stranger +mistook a waiter for one of the members, and the waiters have +threatened to strike if it occurs again. + +* * * + +Los Angeles, California, says a New York cable, is suffering from an +unprecedented crime wave. A proposal by President CARRANZA to draw a +_cordon sanitaire_ round the place has not yet reached Washington. + +* * * + +"Are dark people cleverer than fair?" asks a contemporary. These +clumsy attempts to destroy the Coalition spirit are too transparent to +be successful. + +* * * + +Intending visitors to the Zoological Gardens in Ph[oe]nix Park, +Dublin, are now required to get a permit from the military +authorities. A daring attempt by a Sinn Feiner to approach the +Viceregal Lodge under cover of a cassowary is said to be responsible +for the order. + +* * * + +The ex-Kaiser, it is stated, has asked the Prussian Government +if there would be any objection to his settling in Peru as a +cattle-raiser. The probability that the Crown Prince will settle in +France for a spell as a watch-lifter is thought to have fired the +ex-Imperial imagination. + +* * * + +A report from Chicago states that, as a result of the prevailing +taste for wood-alcohol, a number of citizens successfully revived the +ancient custom of seeing the Aurora Borealis in. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "HURRY UP, JOHNSON--WHAT A TIME YOU TAKE!" + +"I CAN'T GET THROUGH THESE BEASTLY TROOPS."] + + * * * * * + + "The charm of a pleasing figure depends upon an uneasy fitting + corset." + + _Advt. in Canadian Paper._ + +_Il faut souffrir pour etre belle._ + + * * * * * + + "There would also be great competition for carniferous timber + from other countries." + + _Scotch Paper._ + +Not so much now that the meat-shortage is over. + + * * * * * + + "Dundee leads the way in Scotland in a new phase of sport for + ladies. + + The innovation was created by the City Magistrates to-day, + when an application for a billiard-room license in the new + City Hall was granted. + + Under the license ladies will be permitted to cross cues with + gentlemen partners in a public billiard-room."--_Local Paper._ + +It is supposed that their worships were under the impression that +billiards was a new form of shinty. + + * * * * * + +THE TUBE CURE. + + [It has been observed that employees in the Tubes never catch + cold while at work, and doctors, questioned by an evening + paper, have said that "the Tube atmosphere should be quite + likely to cure a cold if breathed long enough--say for an hour + at a stretch."] + + To-day, when I acquire a cold + (Rude Boreas having blustered), + I do not, as in times of old, + Immerse my feet in mustard; + I put a penny in a slot + At some Tube railway station + And draw a ticket for a not + Far distant destination. + + I shun the crowded lifts, although + They're right enough in their way, + And make my calm, unruffled, slow + Descension by the stairway; + 'Tis there a man can be alone, + Immune from all intrusion; + I doubt if there was ever known + Its equal for seclusion. + + Where no invading footsteps fall + I quaff the healthy vapours, + While glancing at my ease through all + The illustrated papers; + And since I've found the bottom stair + A place they don't upholster, + I always take when going there + A small pneumatic bolster. + + Not till an hour or twain have gone, + Thus pleasantly expended, + Do I proceed to carry on, + And, when my journey's ended, + I find all dread bacilli slain-- + No germ shows his (or her) face-- + And so, my cherry self again, + Come blithely to the surface. + + * * * * * + +A BUNCH OF POETS. + +Mr. Obadiah Geek has broken his long silence to some purpose. Those +who remember his pre-war achievements in the field of polychromatic +romanticism will hardly be prepared for his present development, which +lifts him at a bound from the overcrowded ranks of lyric-writers to +the uncongested heights whereon recline the great masters of epic +poetry. And yet it was perhaps inevitable. The thunder and the reek of +war (the last two years of which, we believe, were spent by Mr. Geek +in the Egg Control Department) could scarcely have failed to imprint +their mark on the author of _Eros in Eruption_; and so he has given +us a real epic, whose very title, _Ad Astra_, is symbolic of the +high altitudes in which he so triumphantly and so securely navigates. +Outwardly it is a story of the War, but there is little difficulty in +probing the allegory; and those who follow the hero's vicissitudes +as a private in the Gasoliers, right through to his victorious +advancement to the rank of Acting Lance-Corporal, unpaid (and there is +a symbolism even in the "unpaid"), will readily supply the application +to the affairs of everyday life. + +The ten thousand odd lines of this inspired poem are liberally +enlivened with those characteristic flashes which Mr. Geek's previous +efforts have led us to expect. Nothing could be happier than +the following, descriptive of the hero's early days on the +barrack-square:-- + + The Sergeant rolled his eyes toward the azure + And called down curses on my bloody head... + "You buzz about," his peroration ran, + "Like a bluebottle in a sugar-bowl. + Thank God we have a Navy!" and my feet, + Turned outward, as they had been drilled to turn, + At forty-five degrees or thereabouts, + Itched to join issue with his swollen paunch; + But I refrained. + +Or again:-- + + Fame, the skyscraper, hath a thousand floors; + And some toil slowly upward, stair by stair, + And stagger and halt and faint upon the way; + Others, more fortunate, achieve the top + At one swift elevation, by the lift. + +Mr. Geek, whatever his method of progression may have been, has +certainly "achieved the top"--if indeed he has not gone over it. + + * * * * * + +In _Throbs_, Miss Gramercy Gingham-Potts reveals a depth of feeling +and delicacy of expression that should secure her the right of entry +to every art-calendar and birthday-book. Her Muse is, perhaps, a +trifle anaemic, but to many none the less interesting on that account; +its very fragility, in fact, constitutes its chief appeal. She has an +engaging gift of definition that, combined with a keen appreciation +of the obvious, makes her verses particularly susceptible to quotation. +For instance:-- + + The maiden asked, "What is a kiss?" + The poet wrote: + "Kisses are stamps that frank with bliss + Love's contract-note." + +While for effectively studied simplicity it would be difficult to +match the lyrical gem to which Miss Gingham-Potts has given the +arresting title, "Farewell":-- + + The birds sing sweet in Summer; + The daisies hear their song; + But Winter's come, and they are dumb + So long. + + I told my love in Summer, + So pure and brave and strong; + But frosts came on; my love is gone; + So long! + + * * * * * + +A new volume by the author of _Swings and Roundabouts_ is something +of an event; and in _Bottles and Jugs_ Mr. Ughtred Biggs makes another +fascinating raid on the garbage-bins of London's underworld. Mr. Biggs +is a stark realist, and his unminced meat may prove too strong for +some stomachs; but those who can digest the fare he offers will +find it wonderfully sustaining. Here is no condiment of verbiage, no +dressing of the picturesque. Life is served up high, and almost raw. +By way of illustration we cannot do better than quote from the opening +poem, "Bill's Wife," in which the calculated roughness of the rhythm +is redolent of the pervading atmosphere:-- + + At the corner of the street + Stands the Blue-faced Pig; + Outside a barrel-organ is playing + And the people are dancing a jig. + + A woman waits there grimly; + Her eyes are set and her lips drawn thin; + For Bill, her man, is in the public, + Soaking his soul in gin. + +Students of sociology might do worse than devote careful attention to +these gaunt chronicles of Slumland. + + * * * * * + +The following stanzas, taken from a poem entitled "Reconstruction," +are a favourable example of Mr. Thor Pinmoney's somewhat unequal +genius:-- + + By strife we live, but boredom slays; + My mind from out this office strays + And takes me back to the spacious days + When I counted socks in Ordnance. + + I hate my pen; I hate my stool; + What am I but a nerveless tool? + But we did not work by rote or rule + When I counted socks in Ordnance.... + + There are times even now when it really seems + I'm back in a suburb of shell-shocked Rheims; + But the office echoes my waking screams + When I find it was only in my dreams + I was counting socks in Ordnance. + +Unfortunately, all Mr. Pinmoney's efforts do not come up to this +standard, and we should be almost inclined to wonder whether the +writer has not after all mistaken his vocation, were it not for the +really brilliant piece of work which brings the volume (_Pegasus Comes +Home_) to a close. We make no apology for reproducing this masterpiece +in full:-- + + Man comes + And goes. + What then? + Who knows? + +Here we have the whole philosophy of life and the life hereafter +summed up. If he never writes another line Mr. Pinmoney is by this +assured of a permanent place in the anthology of post-bellum poetry. + + * * * * * + + "Replying to the toast of his health, Mr. Lloyd George said it + was a great boon that a large industrial community should have + been founded amongst these lovely surroundings, a boon not + only for the workers, but also for their little children, who + would have the advantage of being reared in georgeous mountain + air."--_Daily Paper._ + +Lloyd-Georgeous, in fact. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MANNERS AND MODES. + +HORRIBLE NIGHTMARE OF A LADY WHO DREAMS THAT SHE HAS GONE TO A BALL IN +HER NIGHT-GOWN AND FOUND HERSELF SHOCKINGLY OVERDRESSED.] + + * * * * * + +THE "FIRST HUNDRED" OF LOEB. + + [The Loeb Classical Library, founded by a munificent American + millionaire, Mr. JAMES LOEB (_prononcez_ "Lobe"), and edited + by Dr. E. CAPPS, Mr. T. E. PAGE and Dr. W. H. D. ROUSE, has + now reached its hundredth volume.] + + When ways are foul and days are damp, + When agitators rage and ramp, + And SMILLIE, with the aid of CRAMP, + Threatens to rend the globe; + When margarine is scarce, or beef, + And drinks are dear and few and brief, + I find refreshment and relief + And comfort in my LOEB. + + Good print, good company, a text + By no vain annotations vexed + Which call from students sore perplexed + The patience of a Job; + And, page by page, a first-rate crib, + Neither too faithful nor too glib-- + That, without fulsomeness or fib, + Is what we get in LOEB. + + Let scientists on various fronts + Indulge in their atomic stunts, + Or harness to our prams and punts + The puissant radiobe; + Me rather it delights to roam + Across the salt AEgean foam + With old Odysseus, far from home, + And bless the name of LOEB. + + To soar with PLATO to the heights; + To find in PLUTARCH'S kings and knights + The human touch that more delights + Than crown or regal robe; + To taste the fresh Pierian springs, + To see CATULLUS scorch his wings + With the fierce flame that sears and stings-- + For this I thank thee, LOEB. + + I've made no fortune out of beer; + I'm not a plutocrat or peer, + Nor yet a bloated profiteer, + An OM or e'en an OBE; + But if I'd thirty pounds to spare + I'd go and blow them then and there + Upon the Hundred Books that bear + The sign and seal of LOEB. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND. + +_The Rescuer._ "I'M NOT A VERY GRACEFUL DIVER, YOU KNOW. WHAT ABOUT +EMPLOYING A PROFESSIONAL SWIMMER FOR THIS PART OF THE SHOW?"] + + * * * * * + +A NEWSPAPER SCOOP. + +(_With the British Army in France._) + +"I spotted him by the fountain-pen stains on his vest and the +thunderbolts sticking out of his pockets," said Frederick. "So I went +up to him and said, 'You are Wuffle of _The Daily Hooter_, the man who +wiped-up Whitehall and is now engaged in freezing-out France?" + +"What did he say?" asked Percival. + +"Whipped out a note-book and asked me to tell him all about it. I said +I was pining for the white cliffs of Albion and that the call of +the counting-house and cash-box was ringing in my ears, but that I +couldn't get demobilised because the Colonel's pet Pomeranian had +conceived a fancy for me and wouldn't take its underdone chop from +anyone else. I also hinted that I and a few friends could tell him +things that would make his biggest journalistic scoops look like +paragraphs in a parish magazine, so he invited me to bring you round +this afternoon to split an infinitive with him." + +"Wuffle?" said Binnie. "That's the man who wrote about 'gilded +subalterns loafing luxuriously in cushioned cars in a giddy round of +useless and pampered ease'?" + +"Well, I won't say he wrote it, but he signed it. No single man living +could write all the stuff Wuffle signs. It's turned out as they +turn out cheap motor-cars. One man roughs it out, passes it to the +adjective department, thence to the punctuation-room, where they +sprinkle it with commas and exclamation marks, and then Wuffle touches +it up, fits it with headlines and signs it. Oh, I forgot. Before it +goes to press the libel expert looks it over to see that it isn't +actionable." + +"Anyway, he's the responsible party," said Binnie, "and I would fain +have converse with the Wuffle. That 'gilded subaltern' bit was ringing +in my head like a dirge the other night when I was wearily trudging +the seven kilometres from St. Denis camp because there was no one to +give me a lift." + +That afternoon Frederick introduced his friends to Wuffle. + +"Sorry we're late," he said, "but Percival and Binnie here have +been engaged with the Pioneer-Sergeant discussing the best method of +converting a whippet-tank into a roller for the tennis-courts." + +At that moment a motor-lorry rumbled by, and Binnie, recollecting a +passage in Wuffle's latest article about "motor-lorries rushing madly +about with apparently no purpose in view," jumped excitedly to the +door. + +"'Magneto Maggie' leading," he shouted, "and 'The Sparking Spitfire' +is just behind. Care to double your bet on 'Maggie' at evens, +Percival?" + +"Not yet," replied Percival cautiously. "It's only the first lap yet, +and 'Maggie' sometimes jibs a bit when she passes the Remount Depot." + +Wuffle had his fountain-pen at the alert and looked inquiringly at +Frederick. + +"I suppose it _is_ another example of deliberate waste," said the +latter. "But we've got the lorries eating their heads off in the +garages and the petrol is simply aching to be evaporated, so we give +the drivers exercise and ourselves some excitement over organising +these Area Circuit Steeplechases." + +"Why not trans-ship the lorries?" suggested Wuffle. + +"That would never do, old prune," said Frederick. "The troops would +have nothing to guard." + +"Send the men home," persisted Wuffle. + +"Come, my willowy asparagus," replied Frederick in horrified tones, +"we must have troops to find us work to do. Of course it's sometimes +difficult to keep the men employed, and then we have to make dumps of +empty biscuit tins and things for them to guard." + +"I fixed up a real beauty at Le Glaxo, not ten kilometres from here," +chipped in Percival. "If you'd like to see it there's a train going in +about twenty minutes." + +Wuffle jumped up with alacrity. + +"I'd be awfully glad to get a snapshot of it," said he, disappearing +in search of his hat and coat. + +Frederick took the opportunity to make a few scathing remarks to +Percival. + +"It's just like you, you mouldy old citron," he said. "I start a +little experiment in _tirage de jambe_, and you put your heavy hoof +in and spoil the whole business. You know jolly well that Le Glaxo was +completely closed down months ago." + +"Oh, put another penny in your brain-meter and try to realise that +you aren't the only one who's grown up," replied Percival impatiently. +"Your brain-waves move about as quick as G.P.O. telegraph messages. +I'd got the scheme worked out while you were putting over your old +musical-comedy gags." + +Since the departure of the British, Le Glaxo's only excitement is the +arrival of its one train per day. Ignoring the sensation caused by +the detraining of four persons simultaneously, Percival led his party +along a muddy rough lane. + +"The dump is about four kilometres away and the road gets rather bad +towards the end," he said, maliciously edging Wuffle into a bit of +swamp. "Sorry; I was going to warn you about that." + +Wuffle scraped mud from his trousers and followed the leader over a +rough wall into a hidden ditch. A breathless climb up a hill and a +steady trudge over plough-land found Wuffle still game, but, after +he had got his camera ready for action on the cheerful assurance that +they were nearing their quarry, a disappointed cry from the leader +dashed his hopes. + +"Hang it!" said Percival, "I forgot. The dump was moved to Pont +Antoine last Tuesday. Come along; it's only three kilometres away." + +Strangely enough, Pont Antoine was also a blank. Binnie suggested +trying Monceau, two kilometres further on; but when they arrived +there, fatigued and dirty, a thin drizzle was falling and it was +almost dark. Percival confessed himself baffled. + +"I'm awfully sorry," said he to Wuffle; "I can't find it now, and +the point is how are we going to get back? There isn't a railway for +miles." + +"Don't any of our lorries or cars pass here?" asked Wuffle. + +"Oh, yes. But they won't give _you_ a lift. The orders are dead strict +against civilians riding in W.D. vehicles." + +"It's the result of the articles in the papers about waste," said +Frederick sympathetically. "But I don't suppose there would be any +objection to your hanging on and running behind." + +Wuffle looked round disconsolately. In the gloom the lighted windows +of the tiny Hotel de l'Univers blinked invitingly. + +"I think I'll stop here for the night," he said, "and telephone for a +car to fetch me to-morrow." + +"Right-o!" said Percival. "And when it's thoroughly light you +might--you _might_ be able to find the dump. So long." + +As they rumbled uncomfortably home on a fortuitous three-ton lorry, +Percival looked round for applause. + +"_C'est bien fait, mon vieux_," chuckled Binnie. "I'll bet the Wuffle +won't go dump-hunting again in a hurry. And he won't be able to do any +damage from that little estaminet for a day or two." + + * * * * * + +The well-advertised series of articles in _The Daily Hooter_ commenced +a few days later. The conspirators studied them diligently in gleeful +anticipation of finding their contribution to journalistic enterprise. +It came at the end, in a brief paragraph. + +"When I had collected my material for this powerful indictment, etc., +etc." (ran the article), "I met a party of irresponsible subalterns +bent on the old, old army pastime of leg-pulling. For the sake of +exercise and amusement I permitted them to conduct me on a wild-goose +chase after an imaginary dump, which luckily led me to a sequestered +little hotel where I was able to write my articles in peace and +quietude. But to return to the main question. I unhesitatingly +affirm..." + +Percival, who was reading aloud, let the paper fall limply from his +hand. + +"Frederick," he said, "put your biggest boots on and kick me. The +word-merchant was laughing at us all the time." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: COMMERCIAL CONSCIENTIOUSNESS. + +TRAPPING IMITATION ERMINE.] + + * * * * * + + "The letter about the Bloomsbury cat that bought her own cat's + meat in your issue of December 6th is interesting." + + _A Correspondent in "The Spectator."_ + +The cat would, however, have shown more regard for the feelings of our +justly-esteemed contemporary if it had wrapped up its purchase in some +other publication. + + * * * * * + + "In his defence, ---- said that he had really intended + marrying the girl, but that he came to the realization that + she was extremely ejaljoujs, hence his bjreach. + + jThe court found that this was sufficient ground to justify + jjjustify jujjjj jstjijfjy his breach of promise."--_Canadian + Paper._ + +It is evident, however, that the Court did not arrive at this decision +without considerable hesitation. + + * * * * * + +More Headaches for Historians. + + "The revellers passed the time in dancing and singing until + St. Paul's clock struck midnight. Then 'Auld Lang Syne' was + sung with enthusiasm and, after repeated cheers, the crowd + dispersed."--_Times._ + + "It was typical of the largest crowd that has watched round + the cathedral the passing of the year that at the moment when + midnight struck it should be engaged in one tremendous jostle + and push, rough and tumble, and that no one thought to strike + up the tune--traditional to the occasion--of 'Auld Lang + Syne.'"--_Star._ + + "The gigantic Hindenburg figure of Militarism in the centre of + the room melted away with the appearance of the Peace Angel, + reputed to be the fairest lady in Chelsea, who had climbed a + ladder within his leviathan bulk."--_Times._ + + "When twelve o'clock struck The God of War _should_ have + collapsed gracefully to give place to the most beautiful + artist's model in Chelsea, draped as the Goddess of Peace. + But something went wrong with the ropes, and the God of War + floated a yard or two into the air, just sufficiently high to + show us the feet and knees of the Goddess of Peace."--_Evening + Standard._ + + * * * * * + + "The famous flood-test of the Parisian, the stone ouave on + the Bridge of Alma, is in water up to his waist."--_Provincial + Paper._ + +Surely an understatement. The "ouave" seems to have had his Z washed +away. + + * * * * * + +From a _feuilleton_:-- + + "James put his cold hands in his pockets and buttoned up his + coat collar before turning out to his work."--_Weekly Paper._ + +This is not so easy as it sounds. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Teuton (released after internment for the duration, to +old business friend who is trying to avoid him)._ "WELL, MINE FRIENT, +AND WHERE HAF YOU PEEN HIDING YOURSELF THE LAST FOUR OR FIFE YEARS?"] + + * * * * * + +WORDS OF WISDOM. + + "Come, all you young seamen, take heed now to me, + A hard-case old sailorman bred to the sea, + As sailed the seas over afore you was born, + An' learned 'em by heart from the Hook to the Horn. + + "Don't hold by the ratlines when going aloft + (Which I've told you afore but can't tell you too oft), + Or you'll strike one that's rotten as sure as you live, + And it's too late to learn when you've once felt it give; + If you don't hit the bulwarks you'll sure hit the sea, + For them rotten ratlines--they're the devil," says he. + + "Now if you should see, as you like enough may, + When tramping the docks for a ship some fine day, + A spanking full-rigger just ready for sea, + And think she's just all that a hooker should be, + Take 'eed you don't ship with a skipper that drinks-- + You'd better by half play at fan-tan with Chinks!-- + For that'll mean nothing but muddle an' mess, + It may be much more and it can't be much less, + What with wrangling and jangling to drive a man daft, + And rank bad dis-cip-line both forrard and aft, + A ship that's ill-found and a crew out of 'and, + And a touch-and-go chance she may never reach land, + But go down in a squall or broach to in a sea, + For them drunken skippers--they're the devil," says he. + + "And if you go further and pause to admire + A ship that's as neat as your heart could desire, + As smart as a frigate aloft and alow, + Her brasswork like gold and her planking like snow, + Look round for a mate by whose twang it is plain + That his home port is somewhere round Boston or Maine, + With a jaw that's the cut of a square block of wood, + And beat it, my son, while the going is good! + There'll be scraping and scouring from morning till night + To keep that brass shiny and keep them decks white, + And belaying-pin soup both for dinner and tea, + For them smart down-easters--they're the devil," says he. + + "But if by good fortune you chance for to get + A ship that ain't hungry or wicked or wet, + That answers her hellum both a-weather and lee, + Goes well on a bowline and well running free, + A skipper that's neither a fool nor a brute, + And mates not too free with the toe of their boot, + A sails and a bo'sun that's bred to their trade, + And a slush with a notion how vittles is made, + And a crowd that ain't half of 'em Dagoes or Dutch, + Or Mexican greasers or niggers or such, + You stick to her close as you would to your wife, + She's the sort that you only find once in your life; + And ships is like women, you take it from me, + That, if they _are_ bad 'uns, they're the devil," says he. + + C. F. S. + + * * * * * + + "With regard to prison labour, it is stated that the + manufacture of war stories had continued to employ every + available inmate." + + _Christian Science Monitor._ + +We had wondered where some of them came from. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: SOUNDING THE "ALL CLEAR." + +WITH GRATEFUL COMPLIMENTS TO THE GALLANT VOLUNTEERS OF THE BRITISH +MINE CLEARANCE FORCE.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "HULLO, GEORGE! AND WHEN'S THE WAR GOING TO BE OVER, +EH?"] + + * * * * * + +THE QUESTIONABLE ALIEN. + +William, my hitherto unventuresome friend William, is going abroad. I +cannot be certain why. Perhaps he no longer feels his heroism equal +to the strain of living in a country fit for heroes. It may be that +he has unwittingly incubated a bacillus which figures in novels as the +"Call of the Wild." Anyhow, William is going abroad--so much so that, +if he went any farther, he would be on his way home again. + +I need not say that I felt called upon to help William through this +trying period, and our preparations proceeded satisfactorily until the +clever geographers who arrange these things nowadays discovered that +William could fetch the Far East by way of the Far West. Then the +international complications set in. First, William's passport--a +healthy enough document at the start--had to be carried round the +diplomatic quarter of London until it broke out into a thick rash of +supplementary _visas_. Next we sought out the moneychangers in their +dens, to transmute William's viaticum bit by bit into four foreign +currencies. Then a Great Power through whose territory William will +have to pass apparently was nervous of his approach and instituted +a grand inquisition into the status and antecedents of the Alien +(William). + +We unfolded the paper on our table and stared at it aghast. Its area +was rather less than a square yard; in colour it favoured the yolk of +bad eggs; while all over its broad expanse were ruled compartments, +half of them filled with questions that no gentleman would ask +another, the other half left blank for William's indignant replies. We +managed with great difficulty to squeeze into the panel provided all +his baptismal titles--there are four of these besides "William"--and +then attacked the first real poser:-- + +_Are you in possession of 100 dollars, or less? If less, by how much?_ + +William groaned. "Reach me down Todhunter's Arithmetic, will you?" +said he. + +I did so, and turned up the Money Market page of our daily paper. +Nothing was heard for the next five minutes but grunts and sighs of +despair. We then gave it up on the understanding that William must +make a point of winning heavily at bridge--or would it be euchre?--on +the way across. + +_Have you ever been in the territory of the Great Power before?_ + +"No," breathed William devoutly, "and, please Heaven, it shan't occur +again!" + +_What is your reason for coming now?_ + +"I suppose I'd better tell the truth," he said; "they'll never +believe me if I say I've come to put DEMPSEY up to that right drive of +CARPENTIER'S." + +_Were you ever in prison, an almshouse, or an institution for the +treatment of the insane? If so, which?_ + +"Take your time, William," I said; "think carefully." + +He gave a bitter laugh. "Do they want to know _all_ the gaols and +asylums I've been in," he asked, "or only the more recent?" + +_Are you a polygamist?_ + +William turned deathly pale. He then fixed me with a terrible stare of +accusation and reproach. + +"No, no, William," I protested frantically, "I assure you on my honour +that _I_ haven't been talking." + +This assurance calmed him somewhat. Bit by bit the colour came back to +his cheeks and at length he was able to remark more hopefully: "Well, +there's this to be said for it, most of my wives are sportswomen. I +don't _think_ they'll give me away." + +_Are you an anarchist?_ + +"No," answered William frankly, "but I possess a brother-in-law who +has leanings towards Rosicrucianism. Next, please." + +The next was a very searching, legally-worded inquiry. It demanded at +great length to be informed whether William was a person who advocated +the overthrow by force or violence of the Government of the +Great Power, or all forms of Law, or believed in the propriety of +assassinating any or every officer of the Great Power because of his +official character. + +William took up the paper-knife with an expression of sheer animal +ferocity. "Yes," he hissed, "the whole lot. Torturing them, too!"--and +fell back into his chair with peal upon peal of maniacal laughter. + + * * * * * * * + +William was practically a wreck before the inquisition came to an end. +He had not even sufficient spirit left to fly at me for entering +his distinguishing marks as "a general air of honesty, tempered by a +slight inward squint." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Runner._ "BEAUTIFUL SCENT IN COVER TO-DAY, SIR." + +_Post-War Sportsman._ "OH--ER--IS THERE? I HAVEN'T NOTICED IT, BUT +I'VE GOT A COLD IN MY HEAD."] + + * * * * * + + "The Board of Trade have awarded a silver cup to Mr. John + Bruce, D.S.C., skipper of the steam drifter _Pansy_, of Wick, + in recognition of the promptitude and ability with which + he rescued the domestic servant, Strawberry Bank, Hardgate, + pleaded guilty to having bemusic, stolen a gold safety pin, + a fountain pen, two pairs of gloves, two blouses and several + other articles of clothing."--_Fishing News._ + +We never believe these fishing stories. + + * * * * * + +SONGS OF THE HOME. + +II.--THE DIAGNOSIS. + + When Jimmy, our small but significant son, + Is prey of a temper capricious and hot, + And tires of a project as soon as begun, + And wants what he hasn't, and hates what he's got, + A dutiful father, I ponder and brood, + Essaying by reason and logic to find + The radical cause of the juvenile mood + In the intricate growth of the juvenile mind. + + But women and reason were never allies; + The rule of a mother is logic of thumb; + The trouble concerns, she is quick to surmise, + His rum-ti-tiddily-um-ti-tum. + + O woman (though angel in moments of pain, + When angels of pity are most _a propos_), + Why, why won't you listen when husbands explain + The things they have thought and the knowledge they know? + And why do you smile when they beg to repeat? + And why are you bored when they make it all clear? + And why do you label their emphasis "heat," + And bid them "Be careful; the servants may hear"? + + The argument leaves me, though ever more sure, + Reproachful and angry and sullen and dumb: + It leaves her reforming my diet, to cure + _My_ rum-ti-tiddily-um-ti-tum. + + HENRY. + + * * * * * + +ANIMAL HELPS. + +(_By a Student of Domestic Economy._) + +Living in a remote country district, where the difficulty of obtaining +servants is at present insurmountable--the nearest "pictures" are +twelve miles off--I have been much impressed and encouraged by +two letters in recent issues of _The Spectator_. One describes a +Bloomsbury grocer's cat that bought her own cat's-meat; another +recounts the exploits of a spaniel belonging to a house painter and +glazier at Yarmouth (Isle of Wight), which, if given a penny, would +immediately amble off to a grocer's shop and purchase a cake. + +Viewed in their true perspective, these exhibitions of animal +intelligence seem to indicate fruitful possibilities of the employment +of our dumb friends to assist us in these trying times. Many years +ago I remember reading of a baboon which discharged the duties of a +railway porter at a station in Cape Colony with great efficiency. I +have unfortunately mislaid the reference, but so far as I can remember +no mention was made of wages or tips; consequently the importation and +employment of skilled simian labour on a large scale might go a long +way towards reducing the expenses of our railway system. + +But in view of certain obvious difficulties it is perhaps better to +restrict our attention to the sphere of domestic service and farm +labour. And here I would urge with all the power at my command the +employment of the elephant. The greatest burden of household work +is the washing of plates, and this is a task which elephants are +peculiarly well fitted to undertake; also the cleaning of windows +without the use of a ladder. A well-trained and amiable elephant, +again, would enable parents to dispense with a perambulator. I admit +that the initial outlay might be considerable, but the longevity of +elephants is notorious, and it would always be possible to hire them +out to travelling menageries. + +Another neglected asset is the well-known aptitude shown by poodles +for digging out truffles, an accomplishment of which I often read in +my youth. If truffles, why not potatoes? + +The extraordinary intelligence and affectionate disposition of the +runner duck has often been commented on by our serious weeklies, +but so far little attempt has been made to turn these qualities to +practical account. They forage for themselves. Why should they not be +taught to do so for their owners as well? + +One more point and I have done. Greek and Latin are going or gone, +but a modicum of Mathematics seems to be indispensable to the modern +curriculum. The domestic pig has on many occasions shown a capacity +for mastering simple arithmetical processes, and we know that the +pupil always ends by bettering his master. Under a more enlightened +and humane _regime_ I confidently look forward to the time when +our children will learn the Rule of Three, not from highly-paid and +incompetent governesses, but from unsalaried porcine instructors, +trained in the best Montessorian methods. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Visitor._ "HOW IS MRS. BROWN TO-DAY?" + +_Maid._ "WELL 'M, SHE EBBS AND FLOWS."] + + * * * * * + +Our Plutocratic Sportsmen. + + "A gold course is being laid out in Ryde House Park, Isle of + Wight."--_Sunday Paper._ + + * * * * * + +The New Rich. + + "Working Man (36) requires Lodgings, full or part board; car + ride or convenient Rolls-Royce."--_Provincial Paper._ + + * * * * * + + "Lady requires gentleman Chauffeur, repair and clean car; good + dancer."--_Times._ + +One who can "reverse," it is hoped. + + * * * * * + + "Considering the greatness of the provocation, Centralia, + Wash., yesterday showed a calmness worthy of an American + community. There were no farther attempts at lynching after + the hanging of the secretary of the I.W.W. organisation on + Tuesday night." _American Paper._ + +Oh, my friends, let us strive to emulate the calmness of Centralia, +Wash. + + * * * * * + +A LETTER TO THE BACK-BLOCKS. + +DEAR GINGER,--A Merry Christmas to you! A bit late, you say? On the +contrary, in plenty of time. It is next Christmas I am referring +to. Over there, in your tropical land, when the sun stings your +skin through your shirt and the sand blisters your feet through your +boot-soles, when you butter your bread with a soup-ladle and the +mercury boils merrily in the barometer, then, vainly pawing the air +for mosquitoes with one hand and reaching for the siphon with the +other, you gasp, "Gad! it must be getting on for Christmas-time." + +But over here in England, where the seasons wheel round without any +appreciable difference in temperature, where, if it were not for the +gentleman who writes the calendars, nobody would know whether to wear +straw-hats or snow-shoes, Christmas comes sneaking up behind you and +grabs you by the pocket before you have time to dodge. "Christmas Eve +already!" you exclaim. "Christmas Eve! and there's dear old Tom +in Penang and good old Dick in Patagonia and poor old Harry in +Princetown, and I've not written a word of cheer to any of them and +now have no time to do so." That's what happened to me this year, +anyhow; but I'm determined it shall not occur again, so--A Merry +Christmas to you, Ginger. + +This my first Yule in the Old Country, after many in foreign climes, +was not an unqualified success. On the morning of Christmas Eve I +went for a walk and lost myself. After wading through bog systems and +bramble entanglements for some hours I came out behind a spinney and +there spied a small urchin with red cheeks and a red woollen muffler +standing beneath a holly-tree. On sighting me he gave vent to a loud +and piteous howl. I asked him where his pain was, and he replied that +he wanted some holly for decorations, but was too short to reach it. +I thereupon swarmed the shrub, plucked and tossed the richly berried +boughs to the poor little chap. In return he showed me where I +lived--which indeed was not two hundred yards distant, but concealed +by the thicket. + +Later in the day Edward came in to tea, much annoyed. Bolshevism, he +declared, was within our gates. He had been out to collect Christmas +decorations in his own private fenced spinney, and confound it if some +scoundrels hadn't been and gone and stripped his pet holly-tree of +every twig! Anarchy was yapping at the door. + +The Aunt soothed him, saying she had that very afternoon purchased a +supply of splendid holly from a sweet little boy who had come round +hawking it at sixpence a bough. I asked her if by any chance the dear +little fellow had worn a red woollen comforter, and was not surprised +when I heard that he had. + +No sooner had I fallen asleep that same night than I was aroused by +an extraordinary din. I lay there, comatose and semi-conscious in +the pitchy darkness, and wondered what had happened. Presently I +distinguished the bray of trumps, and I knew. "Golly!" I whispered to +myself, "I'm dead. Cheer-o!" Then I recollected something I had read +concerning ye sports and customs of ye Ancient British and decided +it must be "Waits." I crept to the window and by a glow of lanterns +beheld the St. Gwithian Independent Brass Band grouped round the +porch, blasting "Christians, awake!" through their brazen fog-horns. +I fumbled about on the dressing-table, missed the matches but found a +half-crown. "Take that and trot!" I snarled, hurling it at them with +all my strength. The coin hit the trombone a glancing blow on the +snout, ricochetted off the bassoon and bounded into the rockery. + +The music stopped abruptly as the bandsmen swarmed in pursuit of +fortune. In half-an-hour's time they had pulled all Edward's cherished +sedums and saxifrages up by the roots and turned over most of the +smaller rocks without discovering the treasure. A conference in loud +idiomatic Cornish then took place, with the result that two musicians +were despatched to a neighbouring farm for picks, crow-bars and more +lanterns; the remainder squatted on the flower-beds and whiled away +the time of waiting by blasting "Good King Wenceslas" to the patient +stars. + +In due course the messengers returned and the quarrying of the rockery +began in earnest. By 4.15 A.M. they had most of it littered over the +drive, but had struck some granite boulders which defied even the +crowbars. A further conference was then held, but at this point Edward +made a dramatic appearance, clad in lilac pyjamas, odd boots and +a kimono of the Aunt's, which he had worn as King Alfred in some +charades the night before, and in the darkness had donned in mistake +for his dressing-gown. His address was impassioned and moving, but had +no effect on the Waits, who could only be persuaded to abandon their +silver mine at the price of a second half-crown. + +A day or so before Christmas I began to notice that everybody was +getting presents--everybody except me, that is. This caused me pain. +It gave the impression that I was not appreciated. I took thought for +a space, then rode into Penzance, bought several articles I had been +wanting for some time, wrote a few affectionate notes in disguised +handwriting, such as "With dearest love from Flossie," "With hugs +and kisses from Ermyntrude," etc., enclosed them with the articles, +addressed and posted them to myself and rode home again. + +On Christmas morning I opened them in public with a vast flourish, +and left the touching little dedications lying carelessly about where +anybody could read them. From the glances of wonder and respect +which flashed at me from all sides I gathered that everybody did. The +sensation was both novel and pleasing. One parcel, however, there was +which I had not sent myself. It had been forwarded on by the "Punch" +Office, marked, "Please do not crush," and carefully tied and sealed. +My heart leapt. "By Jove!" said I, "a genuine Christmas present. +Somebody loves me after all. Perhaps a duchess has sent me her tiara." + +With trembling fingers I unlaced the strings. The household crowded +about me, panting with envy and excitement. Reverently I folded the +multitudinous wrappings back and revealed a very old, very dilapidated +silk slipper, severely busted at the toe and stuffed with sticky +sweets, a small female doll, and a note--"With all best wishes to +PATLANDER for a happy Christmas, and many thanks for useful hints +contained in _Punch_ issue, December 10th, 1919." + +I may remind you that in the issue mentioned was an epistle from me +to you recommending the Post as a means of disposing of rubbish, with +special reference to worn-out foot-gear. I only wish I knew who +played this trick on me, Ginger; I would like to give him something in +return--say an old footer-boot--with my foot inside. + + Thine in sorrow, + + PATLANDER + + * * * * * + +New Golfing Records. + + "Mr. ---- then holed his fourth for a three."--_Sunday Paper._ + + "---- played very fine golf on the outward journey and stood 5 + up at the second hole." + + _Evening Paper._ + +We suppose that in each case the player's opponent wasn't looking. + + * * * * * + +From a sale catalogue:-- + + "Pretty Light Grey Georgette Jumper, trimmed Grey Wool and + Saxe Blue. + + Usually 5 gns. 6-1/2 gns." + +No wonder they call it a jumper. + + * * * * * + + "ST. ----'S CHURCH. + 6.30 p.m.--Preacher: The Vicar. + 7.45 p.m.--Bach's Church Cantata, + 'Sleepers, Wake.'" + + _Provincial Paper._ + +We suspect the organist of being a bit of a wag. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Slightly deaf Footman (announcing each guest in +character)._ "MR. JONES--THE LAST OF THE BANDIES."] + + * * * * * + +THE WHAT-NOT. + +"Look here," I said, "this is indeed serious. The what-not's +moulting." + +"It's been like that for a long time," said Anna. "But I suppose it's +getting worse." + +"I'm afraid so. And we _must_ have something reliable," I said, "to +stand dishes and things on at meals. We can't pile them all on the +table at once like a cairn. To tell you the truth," I added, "I've had +my eye on an old oak dresser at Smalley's for a long time. It would be +a good investment--at a price." + +"Yes," said Anna; "but I suppose the price would be the earth and the +fulness thereof." + +"That is precisely what I propose to find out, and if they'll take +anything less than thirty pounds it's ours. In the meantime," I added, +"we'll dope the poor old what-not with furniture cream and see about +driving it to market." + +There are two accepted methods of dealing at old furniture shops. +The first is to approach them, well-groomed, be-ringed and perfumed, +smoking a jewelled gasper and entering the shop with a circular +movement of the arm to expose the gold wrist-watch that _will_ crawl +up the sleeve at wrong moments, and to ask in a commanding voice, "How +much is the--ah--oak-dresser--what?" + +The presiding genius (and being a dealer he is usually a genius), who +had really ticketed the article thirty pounds, approaches it, removes +the ticket by a little sleight-of-hand and says, "Thirty-eight +guineas, Sir," without a blush (the dealer who blushes is hounded +from the ring). This method of dealing is direct action of the most +dangerous kind. + +The other method, and the one I most usually adopt, I can best +illustrate by detailing my interview with the proprietor of Smalley's +on the occasion when I went dressering. + +I sidled into the shop in garments carefully selected from my +pre-wardrobe and wearing a vacant expression. Picking up a piece of +china I examined it carefully, turning it upside down, as though +to search for a pottery mark, which I probably should never have +recognised. + +"H'm, not bad," I said. + +"One of the best bits of Dresden I've ever had," said the dealer. "I +want----" + +"Ah, German," I said, putting the thing down hurriedly as though it +might be mined. "It may be a good piece, but--what is the price of +that brass fender?" + +"Seven-ten, old Dutch and a bargain," said the dealer laconically. + +"But probably wouldn't fit the fireplace in my mind. Though," I added +to myself, "it might fit the one in our dining-room." + +I thought it about time to notice the dresser, not to attempt to buy +it yet--oh dear no, but merely to fire the first shot in the campaign +as it were. + +"What kind of a dresser do you call this?" I said. "Slightly +moth-eaten, isn't it?" + +"That's nothing; merely age. It's Welsh," he added, "and a beauty. +I wish I could get hold of more like it. Look at those legs; I'll +guarantee you won't----Excuse me, Sir." + +An immaculately dressed individual had entered the shop, and the +gentleman trading as Smalley called an assistant to serve him. By the +time he returned to me I had wandered far into the recesses of the +emporium and was busily examining a walnut stool with a woolwork seat. + +"You haven't one like this in oak, I suppose? This one," I said, +"would hardly suite my suit. That sounds wrong, but you apprehend my +meaning." + +"I haven't," he said simply. I could see that he was tiring rapidly, +but wasn't absolutely ripe for plucking. + +So I priced about a dozen pieces of china, admired several pictures +and pieces of Stuart needlework, descanted on the beauties of a set +of wheatear chairs, pulled a small rosewood table about until its claw +and ball feet nearly dropped off from exhaustion, and finally led him +back to the Welsh dresser. + +"What's the price of the Scotsman?" I said easily, having seen thirty +guineas on the ticket during the preliminary examination. + +"Twenty-nine pounds to you," he said wearily. He evidently knew the +strict rules of the game. + +"But look at those legs," I said. "They're frightfully bent, aren't +they?" + +"That's one of the best features about it," he said. "Real Queen Anne, +those legs are." + +"Oh, were hers like that? I didn't know," I said. "Look here, I'll +give you twenty-eight pounds, spot cash." + +"Very well," he said. "I like to do business." + +"I beg pardon," said a voice behind me, which, in turning, I +discovered to belong to the assistant, "but that dresser's sold. The +gentleman who's just left bought it." + +As I was looking for the ticket (which had disappeared), I couldn't +help overhearing the assistant's aside to his employer. + +"Thirty-five guineas cash," he said. + +There is something, after all, to be said for direct action. + + * * * * * + +"OLD FOLKS' TEA. + + On the day of the party the Chief Constable has arranged for + a staff of Special Constables to escort home any person + requiring assistance."--_Provincial Paper._ + +This bears out what has recently appeared about the terrible results +of the tea-drinking habit. + + * * * * * + + "WANTED.--Skates and Boots for Leghorn Pullets."--_Advt. in + Canadian Paper._ + +They need a lot of exercise in the cold weather. + + * * * * * + +AT THE PLAY. + +"CINDERELLA." + +[Illustration: A HORSE-SENSE OF HUMOUR. + +_Pipchin_. . . . . . . . . . . Mr. STANLEY LUPINO. +_Baroness Beauxchamps_ . . . . Mr. WILL EVANS. + +] + +It is a very delicate task that the annual pantomime imposes upon Mr. +ARTHUR COLLINS. He has to "surpass himself," but he must not do it +once for all or he would rob the critics of their most cherished +phrase. He reminds me of the constructors of our Atlantic +"greyhounds," each longer by a yard or two than the last, each swifter +by a fraction of a knot, each with a few more tons displacement, +all pronounced to be the final word in scientific invention, yet all +reserving something for the next time. + +Certainly the present year marks an advance in one respect at +least--that the grotesque and the beautiful are kept reasonably apart; +the lovely colour-scheme, for instance, of the garden in Fairyland is +undisturbed by any element of buffoonery. There was a revival too of +topical allusiveness after the reticence proper to war-time; and the +GEDDES family must be justifiably flattered by their admission to a +choric refrain. + +The humour, of which Mr. STANLEY LUPINO bore the brunt, was here and +there a little thin, and it is time that somebody let the Management +of Drury Lane into the open secret that the pun, as an instrument of +mirth, has long been a portion of the dreadful past. Mr. WILL EVANS, +as the _Baroness Beauxchamps_, seldom let himself go, being no doubt +held in restraint by a consciousness of his resemblance to Miss ELLEN +TERRY. Not enough chance was given to Miss LILY LONG (the _Elder +Sister_), who has a very nice sense of fun. As for Mr. CLAFF, who +played the operatic _Baron_, his most humorous moment was when he +meant to be most serious. This was in a song in praise of _Prince +Charming_, "featuring" H.R.H. in a portrait curiously unlike the +original. + +The two most effective incidents were borrowed from the Circus and the +Halls. Mr. DU CALION, who had no other very obvious claims to play the +part of a humorous courtier, did his famous ladder-feat--a perfectly +gratuitous performance, for, though he was supposed to be rescuing +_Cinderella_ through a top-storey window, she had the good sense to +descend by the staircase, having ignored, as is the way of Love, the +locked door that made this impossible. + +The other imported business was the work of a black horse, who +preserved an expression of extreme gravity and detached boredom +during the play of human wit around his person, dissimulating his own +superior gifts of humour until called upon to illustrate them with +some excellent circus-tricks. + +On the sentimental side, Miss MARIE BLANCHE, obedient to the +inexorable tradition that a young hero of pantomime must be a woman, +played _Prince Charming_ with the right manners that makyth man; and +as _Cinderella_ Miss FLORENCE SMITHSON once more breathed that air of +innocence which still remains unstaled by years of steady addiction +to the heroine habit. Her vocal intrusions, always well received, were +not always well timed; certainly it was an error of judgment to insert +a solo at the cross-roads after she had told us that she hadn't a +moment to spare if she was to get home from the ball before the rest +of the family. But here again it was a matter of obedience to some +unwritten and inscrutable law of pantomime which it is not for us, the +profane, to question. + +And in this spirit I tender a grateful acknowledgment not only of +the good things that my intelligence could appreciate in this lavish +entertainment, but also of the other things that I can never hope to +understand. + + O. S. + + * * * * * + +Commercial Candour. + +"Good Boots . . . . . . 25/- + No Better. . . . . . . 37/6." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Speaker (endeavouring to cultivate a patriotic spirit +in the young)._ "AND NOW, CHILDREN, IF YOU SAW OUR GLORIOUS FLAG +WAVING TRIUMPHANTLY OVER THE BATTLE-FIELD, WHAT WOULD YOU THINK? +(_Prolonged pause_) COME, COME, WHAT WOULD YOU ---- WELL, MY LITTLE +MAN, WHAT WOULD YOU THINK?" + +_Small Boy._ "PLEASE, ZUR, THE WIND WERE BLOWIN'."] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._) + +"I remember, I remember...." Still on every side echoes the poet's +cry, while scarce a publisher but can prove that the thoughts of age +make long, long books. Certainly not the shortest of these, but among +the most readable, is _A Medley of Memories_ (ARNOLD), in which the +Right Rev. Sir DAVID HUNTER-BLAIR has embodied the recollections of +his very active career as Benedictine monk and a leading figure in the +world of British Catholicism. Eton, Oxford, Rome, and (of course) his +own famous monastery at Fort Augustus, are the chief scenes of it; +and about them all Sir DAVID talks vividly, even brilliantly. I am not +saying that all this pleasant garrulity would not have been the +better for the blue pencil, especially in those chapters in which the +writer's memory dwells almost to excess upon the births, marriages, +deaths and dinner-parties of the orthodox Peerage. Elsewhere, however, +Sir DAVID finds occasion in plenty for the exercise of a wit so +dextrously handled that often his thrust is delivered before you have +realized that the rapier has left its sheath. I had marked a score of +examples for quotation (and now have space for none) and twice as many +good stories. In the Oxford recollections it was pleasant to renew my +own lively memories of a certain notorious lecture by Mr. WALTER WALSH +on Ritualistic Societies, when violence was narrowly averted by the +tactful chairmanship of the present LORD CHANCELLOR--a lecture from +which (as Mr. BELLOC observed at the time) "each member of the large +audience departed confirmed and strengthened in whatever convictions +he might previously have entertained." I sincerely hope that Sir DAVID +has yet in store for us those latter-day gleanings which he has been +compelled to dismiss for the present as being too recent for print. + + * * * * * + +Mr. G. B. STERN has set himself to study with sympathy and a candour +which extenuates nothing the Jew in England in the circumstances of +war, and in particular the Jew of German origin completely loyal to +the country of his adoption, but suspected and persecuted by such +simple folk (and journals) as are content to put their faith in +equally simple proverbs about leopards and spots. I suppose if +_Children of No Man's Land_ (DUCKWORTH) has a hero and heroine you +will find them in _Richard Marcus_ and his sister _Deborah_. Young +_Richard_, passionately English, with all the simple unquestioning +loyalty of the public-school boy, counts the months to the day when +he can testify to this by bearing arms in his country's defence, but +finds nothing open but internment or (by much wangling) a possible +niche in a Labour battalion. _Deborah's_ adventures are chiefly of the +heart, or what passes for the heart with a common type of modern girl +anxious to wring every sensation out of life that playing with +fire can give. It does not do to betray one's age by expressing too +confidently the idea that much of all the goings-on of _Deborah_ +and her friends _Gillian_ and _Antonia_ seems impossible. Mr. STERN +certainly writes as if he knew what he was writing about, and there +is so rich an exuberance in the way he crowds his canvas, and so much +humour expressed and repressed in his point of view, that I found this +a distinctly entertaining and instructive book. + + * * * * * + +_Living Bayonets: A Record of the Last Push_ (LANE) is a fourth of the +enthusiastic and fiery war-books of that eminently enthusiastic and +inextinguishably fiery warrior-author, Lieutenant CONINGSBY DAWSON, of +the Canadian Field Artillery. If he evinces, blatantly at times, the +motives and perspective of the propagandist, he is justified by the +fact that he most ardently practised the Hun hatred which he preaches. +He states that he enjoyed the dangers and discomforts of so doing, and +his assertion is proved to be a true one by his having returned again +and again to the fray, notwithstanding every excuse and temptation to +leave it. The book follows on after his _Khaki Courage_, and is +also in the form of letters to his people at home. It takes up the +narrative at April 14th, 1917, and carries it to the triumphant end. +When, by reason of his wounds, he had to leave the Front and work in +London and elsewhere, he naturally lost touch with the real business +of the battle; even after his return to the Front in April, 1918, his +letters lack their original sense of actuality, and I, reading them, +began to wonder if he was ever going to recover his former style. +Happily he does so, and with his letter of July 11th he gives a +striking picture of a terrible incident of war, of which I don't +remember to have read before, but, as I read it now, I seem to be +witnessing it myself. From this point on he steadily develops his +best, so that he ends on a fitting climax to all his writings of the +War in his long final letter of October 6th--propaganda unashamed. +The book should be thrust under the noses of those pacifists who now +labour to minimise the past and to magnify the virtue and the value of +their personal loving-kindness. + + * * * * * + +It has ever been my misfortune that the presence in a story of two +characters confusably alike, or a setting within drowning distance +of a tide-race, will produce in me an almost insuperable sense of its +having been "made on purpose." I had therefore a double stroke of bad +luck in finding both these elements present in _The Splendid Fairing_ +(MILLS AND BOON). But the more credit to Miss CONSTANCE HOLME that, +despite my increasing conviction that the wrong prodigal would return, +and that the powers of nature were throughout almost visibly preparing +to engulf him, the gentle and unforced power of her story did hold my +attention till the final wave. Distinction shown in apparent absence +of effort would, I think, be my verdict on her writing; she clearly +knows her Northern farmer-folk with the sympathy of intimate +experience. I hope I have not already suggested too much of the plot, +a little tragedy of the commonplace dealing with the relations between +two farming brothers, of whom the younger prospers while the elder +fails, and the life-long jealousies of their women. Miss HOLME works, +one may say, on a minute scale; the short but simple annals of the +poor interest her to the extent of providing an entire volume of three +hundred odd pages from the events of a single day. But though now and +then the old Northern counsel to "get eendways wi' it" does hover in +the background of one's mind I repeat that sincerity carries the thing +through. For all that, however, _The Splendid Fairing_ did but confirm +me in a previous impression that these Mary-call-the-cattle-home +localities must remain more convenient to the local colourist than +attractive to the inhabitants. + + * * * * * + +The publication, as a foreword, of a "Glossary of Native Words" used +in the text made me wonder whether I should be bored or instructed, +or both, by _The Death Drum_ (HURST AND BLACKETT). Most happily I was +neither. Miss MARGARET PETERSON has built her novel, perhaps a trifle +hastily, about a quite uncommon theme and given it, in Uganda, a quite +uncommon setting. It is the story of a half-caste who marries a white +girl in order to avenge, in her degradation, his sister whom the +English girl's brother had betrayed. I must not say that _Tom Davis_, +the half-caste, is too much a white man--for Miss PETERSON, to do her +justice, has distributed goodness and badness among her blacks and +whites with a quite impartial hand--but he is too fine a fellow to +carry out his own plan, and, before he has done any lasting harm to +the girl he has come to love, he takes himself, by way of a native +rising, to a lotus-covered lake, and so out of her life. It seems a +pity that the happiness of the story's end couldn't include _Tom_, but +his ancestry effectually barred the way, and Miss PETERSON has had to +rely upon a very strong and not quite silent Englishman of the best +type for her satisfactory finish. + + * * * * * + +Few authors have a shrewder idea than Mr. P. G. WODEHOUSE of what the +British and American public want in the way of humour, and I do not +know anyone more determined to supply their requirements. He would +be a dull fellow indeed who did not appreciate the high spirits and +humorous situations to be found in _A Damsel in Distress_ (JENKINS). +It is no small feat to maintain a riot of irresponsible fun for more +than three hundred pages, but Mr. WODEHOUSE gets going at once, and +keeps up the pace to the end without even a pause to get his +second wind. If some of the characters--a ridiculous peer, his more +ridiculous sister and his most ridiculous butler--are of the "stock" +variety, Mr. WODEHOUSE'S way of treating them is always fresh and +amusing. But in his next frolic I beseech him to give golf and its +tiresome lingo a complete rest. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Customer._ "MAY I LOOK AT THAT TWELVE-GUINEA SUIT IN +THE WINDOW? (_Catching sight of ticket_) GOOD GRACIOUS! IT'S TWELVE +POUNDS THIRTEEN NOW." + +_Tailor._ "YESSIR--A BRIGHT LITTLE NOTION OF OURS, IF I MAY SAY SO. A +TICKER ATTACHED, LIKE THOSE THINGS IN THE TAXICABS, TO KEEP THE PRICE +UP-TO-DATE."] + + * * * * * + + "Straying.--Wm. ----, for allowing three houses to stray on + the highway, was fined 20s."--_Local Paper._ + +In these days landlords cannot be too careful. + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Note: + +Errata: + +Page 6: 'particlarly' corrected to 'particularly'. +["... makes her verses particularly susceptible to quotation."] + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +CLVIII, January 7, 1920, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH-CHARIVARI, JANUARY 7, 1920 *** + +***** This file should be named 30593.txt or 30593.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/5/9/30593/ + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Jonathan Ingram 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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